{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends","title":"Troubled Thoughts","subtitle":"and the self-esteem to match","author":{"name":"all_depends"},"link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"service.feed","type":"application\/x.atom+xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom","title":"Troubled Thoughts"}}],"updated":"2013-07-22T06:17:20Z","entry":[{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:8716","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/8716.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=8716"}}],"title":"If I Could Drown Your Gold","published":"2012-01-01T07:51:45Z","updated":"2012-01-07T03:53:36Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"angst"}}],"content":"Title:<\/b> If I Could Drown Your Gold
Author:<\/b> <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Rating:<\/b> R
Warning:<\/b> Rape, death, teenage angst, Sarah Orzechowski, makes little to no sense at all
Pairing:<\/b> Ryden, Brendah
POV:<\/b> First, Brendon's
Summary:<\/b> None of this makes any sense, but looking into Ryan’s eyes, or as much as I can see anyway, I know in my heart he would never do anything wrong. Never has and never again.<\/i>
Disclaimer:<\/b> This didn't happen and could never happen. Words are mine, characters aren't.
Beta:<\/b> <\/a>youignorantfool<\/b><\/a><\/span>



If there is one thing I thank my parents for, it is the day they bought some water guns for the family to play with. Maybe that sounds shallow and insignificant, but those water guns lead to something greater that would shape my life into something that can’t be named. I still remember that spring, one that seemed so rich with flowers and singing birds. My parents and I would shoot each other in our front yard with the water guns, then head inside for dinner and a regular family night. It’s hard to imagine how I never noticed anything past my perfect family, past my perfect house. But those water gun days opened my eyes to the latter. Spending so much time outside made me realize I had a neighbor who was about my age, and he would usually step outside right before dusk to read.

I’d never had a neighbor whom I could hang out with; I had my friends at school, but sometimes, when you watch too much TV, you notice how every movie neighborhood has those “friends” that meet when they’re still learning to read and ride their bikes together and grow up to become inseparable. I wanted that, even if it sounds cheesy or cliché. When I saw that boy, I thought he could be my inseparable other, and that we could meet each other’s parents and walk into each other’s houses like it was just an extension of our own.<\/p>

It took me a while to speak to him for the first time. I didn’t know what to say without sounding weird. He was always so busy with his book, and I felt like it was a private activity that I would be intruding upon. But one day I just went for it. I walked to the very edge of my front yard, my toes barely reaching into the sidewalk, and I shouted his way. He looked up at me, and I said hi, waving awkwardly. He said hi back, and small talk evolved. It wasn’t much; I learned his name, the name of his book, and why he liked to read outside at this hour. With that, I went back inside.<\/p>

The next day I invited him to the arcade, and he said yes. We got along just fine, even though we knew very little about each other, and those play dates became regular. Very soon we were so close that even our parents were friends. And at the beginning of that winter, I fell in love.<\/p>

~~~<\/p>

Ryan likes to follow me wherever I go. Or, at least I like to take him wherever I go. I like to surf occasionally, and Ryan’s usually there to watch me ride the waves while the only waves he bathes in are the sun’s light waves. When I step out of the water and into the sand, I notice it’s hotter than it was when we arrived at the beach. I see Ryan lying on a towel and closing his eyes at the sky. When he hears me walking his way, he opens his eyes, squinting. I tell him to put on some sunscreen and he does, obviously too careless to have done it on his own. I suggest buying ice-cream cones, and he accepts, so I leave and return some minutes later with one strawberry cone in each hand.<\/p>

I tell Ryan I’m going to the restroom and leave him to eat the rest of his cone. I come back no more than five minutes later and find Ryan’s cone spilled and melting on the sand. Ryan calls after me and waves in my direction from inside the water. I wave back and smile in acknowledgement, watching as the sea waves sway him around. He’s so far away I can barely see him. He looks small and fragile compared to the vast ocean.<\/p>

I lay down on my towel and the sun instantly hits my eyes. I shut them as a reflex, but then open them to stare at the sun for a few moments. I look the other way and I’m blinded for a second, just like I expected. Still, it’s tempting to look at the sun occasionally, especially when everyone warns you not to. Then I close my eyes for good and let myself drowse off to the sound of the waves crashing.<\/p>

When I wake up, I don’t know how long it’s been. The sun has hardly moved at all, so it can’t have been more than a couple of minutes. But when I look around me, my surfboard’s not where I left it. I think someone must have stolen it, but then I think of something worse, and I hope to God I’m wrong. But I’m not. So I run, yelling for Ryan to get out because he can’t surf and he can’t swim and he should know better than that. He knows better than that.<\/p>

There’s a wave, a pretty rough one, and Ryan’s out of my sight. I dive into the wild ocean in search for him. I need to get him out as soon as possible but I can’t find him anywhere. I see a hand trying to grasp the air above him and I swim in his direction. I grab onto him and he grabs onto me, pulling me down and making us both struggle as if we were drowning in quicksand. I swallow some water and breathe some in through my nostrils so that now I’m panicking to the point that I don’t know if we’ll get out of here alive.<\/p>

I’m able to rise up and breathe in air, and then I get a firm grip on Ryan. We make it to the shore, where Ryan and I cough out the water in our lungs. I look at him and ask him what in the hell was going through his mind. I demand an explanation as to why he thought this was in any okay for him to do. I want to scream and hate him and prohibit him from ever setting foot near the sea again, but instead, all I can do is laugh. Ryan doesn’t seem to understand what’s so funny right away, but soon he starts laughing, too. We’re sitting on rough sand, still soaking wet, choking on salt water, and yet we still laugh because it’s over.<\/p>

We decide we want to leave already and just go home. On our way to our apartment, Ryan tells me he’ll never be able to drink another drop of water in his life, and we laugh nervously about it. He doesn’t say anything else and neither do I, though I’m afraid that silence only leaves space for thoughts, and thoughts can sometimes be more dangerous than words. At home, I turn on the TV for sound and take a shower. When I come out, I find Ryan in the kitchen, gulping down a water bottle like he’s been in a desert. I wonder if he sees the irony or if he simply has a terrible memory.<\/p>

~~~<\/p>

Ryan is all I have. When I realized my parents were the cause of all my suffering, I moved out. That may sound bratty and rebellious, but it was the hardest decision I’ve made in my life. I loved my parents, but living inside their house was almost dangerous for me, so all I have left now is Ryan. But I’m not complaining because Ryan is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and all that matters to me is his happiness and his wellbeing. He is my life and I love him so much and I think he’s as close to perfect as it gets. He thinks I say that because he’s my boyfriend, but I swear I’m not.<\/p>

He’s everything I have never been. He is so much better than me in every way, and that doesn’t bother me at all; in fact, it makes me proud. He’s smart, fun, beautiful, and kind. He’s the nicest person I know. And that might just be what I love about him the most: his pureness, his generosity, his honesty, his innocence. Every time I look at him I see that boy sitting in his front yard reading a book, flipping the pages oh-so-collectedly. So serene. That’s my Ryan, the one I see in front of me watching cartoons and reposing on the couch.<\/p>

Sometimes I just glance over at him and I see those beautiful eyes of his and just feel the need to tell him how perfect he is. I stay in my lazy position and blurt out that I love him. He glances at me for just a second and smiles. He says jokingly that he loves himself, too, and something about it being a selfcest, narcissistic kind of love. He says it with such a passion that I almost believe him.<\/p>

~~~<\/p>

All this going to the roof at night soaking wet is giving Ryan a cold. I asked him about it one day when I found him on his back, staring at the sky while beads of water streamed down his strands of hair. He said he’d just taken a shower and just wanted to look at the stars. But for some reason he keeps doing it, even though I tell him it’s bad for him.<\/p>

He’s been doing a lot of eccentric things lately, like the time I found him staring at himself in the mirror without me knowing; he wasn’t doing anything, just watching his reflection and making bitter gestures as though he were communicating with someone through body language. So instead of questioning I simply let him be, just as long as I make sure he’s okay.<\/p>

This time I lie down with him and observe the shining dots above us. He comments on how it’s astounding to him how every star is light-years away, yet we’re still able to see that vicious fire as a tiny speck of light. He mentions that he’d like to be an astronaut, which kind of makes him sound like a ten-year-old. The moon, that’s where he’d like to go. He asks me that if he ever went to the moon and were stuck in there forever, would I look up at the moon and feel him close to me, even though he’s so far away. I tell him that even though I could always know where he is, I’d still miss him terribly, more than I could bear. He thinks about it as he looks at the stars.<\/p>

He goes back into the house and I follow closely behind. That’s the last time he goes on the roof, though he still likes to peek through the window.<\/p>

~~~<\/p>

In only a couple of weeks it’ll be Ryan’s birthday. Nobody’s brought it up yet, so I ask him what he wants to do just in case we need time to make preparations for a party or a trip or whatever he’s planned. It’s not like we have a lot of money, but we’ve been saving for a while and if others are willing to cooperate, maybe we can allow ourselves some spending for the occasion. But he shrugs and says not to worry about it. If he doesn’t want anything big, I might as well buy him an ideal gift. He insists he doesn’t want anything, nothing at all. He tells me he just wants it to be like any other day.<\/p>

I know Ryan, and I know he’s not the type to make any big arrangements or ask for expensive presents, but I know he still likes to have fun and be pampered from time to time. Besides, he’s very symbolic, so treating a birthday like any other day doesn’t suit him very well. I just love to see and make Ryan happy, so I organize a small surprise party. It’s nothing special, really—just a cake enough for two and a music album entitled Say Anything by a band with the same name.<\/p>

Before I left that evening, I kissed Ryan goodbye without mentioning his birthday or where I was going. Now, with the cake and wrapped present in one arm, I open the door to surprise Ryan with his unexpected celebration. But even though I expected a smile and a thank-you, he stands up from the living room couch with fire in his eyes and goes to lock himself in the room.<\/p>

I leave the things I bought in the kitchen and walk over to the room to see what’s wrong. He’s angry and his eyes threaten to cry. I start to ask what the matter with him is, when he yells at me. He tells me that he specified he wanted nothing for his birthday, yet I completely ignored his wish. I try to reason with him by explaining my good intentions, but he can’t seem to understand or appreciate my gesture. He blames me for something. It’s my fault, he says. I ask him what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t know.<\/p>

I’m as confused or more than he is, so I touch his shoulder to try to get him to cool down. That moment, everything stops, from my breathing to my thoughts. Next thing I know, I’m pinned to the wall with Ryan pressing the heel of his palm so far into my chest, I fear it might break. I close my eyes and pretend that I’m being mugged by a stranger on the street because any other scenario is better than knowing Ryan is actually hurting me. Maybe it’s the fear or the dizziness from all the blood rushing through my brain, but I soon start to believe my own imagination. Ryan’s hand feels larger, stronger. His voice as he exhales is thicker and rougher than usual. This isn’t Ryan.<\/p>

It’s when a sob escapes from me that he retracts, slowly. I open my eyes and Ryan is looking at me terrified, as if I were the mugger and not him. He comes closer to me again and I try to take a step backward regardless of the wall that is immediately behind me. However, Ryan only traps me in a hug. I can’t hear him cry, but his body jerks abruptly between my arms and chest.<\/p>

Later that night, we’re sitting in the dark with only two candles that make our faces glow faintly. Ryan closes his eyes, and for a moment everything is surreally quiet and still. When he finally makes a wish, he opens his eyes and blows on the candles, turning the room into a densely dark area of nothingness. Everything comes back to life once Ryan flicks on the light switch. He loves the chocolate cake, loves the CD, loves absolutely everything. It’s his birthday and he’s happy, and that’s all I ever asked for.<\/p>

~~~<\/p>

Sometime in the middle of the night, I wake up thanks to noises of footsteps and nylon jackets, and they’re all coming from Ryan. I ask him where he’s going, and he gets startled because he wasn’t expecting me to be awake. At first he doesn’t respond, but he ends up saying he’s just going out for a bit. I ask where, but he gets offended by the question and tells me to stop worrying about it. I tell him I want to go with him, and he stops inches away from the door to think about it. He doesn’t sound very convinced, but he lets me join him and waits for me to get ready, too.<\/p>

We don’t have any sort of light with us, so it’s hard to see where we’re going, but Ryan seems to know the way. We finally stop at the front door of a house I’ve never seen before, and before going on he grabs my shoulders and looks deep into my eyes. He only says four words, clear and concise, Do you trust me?<\/i><\/p>

I have no idea where we are. It’s the middle of the night, a quarter past 4 AM, and everything is pitch-dark without a single star in the sky. None of this makes any sense, but looking into Ryan’s eyes, or as much as I can see anyway, I know in my heart he would never do anything wrong. Never has and never again.<\/p>

I nod my head, which is enough for him to open the door to the house. It isn’t locked, and he opens it as though he already knew it would be this easy. We take every step with caution all the way down the hallway and to a bedroom big enough for one. On the bed there is a lump that rises and drops gently; I can tell only because the window is open and the moon is bright enough to do me the favor.<\/p>

Ryan gets on the bed and crawls his way over to the unfamiliar person. I ask him what he’s doing in a whisper that’s almost too loud. He ignores me and asks me to get on the bed, too, so I do as he requests. I ask who this person is, but my whispering must have woken up the sleeping body this time because it tosses on the bed and makes a whining noise which I recognize as male.<\/p>

Ryan moves one knee over him so that the boy or man is trapped between his legs. His hands fly toward the other’s mouth in an attempt to silence his howling. I don’t know what to do, so I jump out of the bed in one swift movement, but Ryan only orders me to go back and help him control the guy. He’s squirming and yelling under Ryan’s grasp and I’m just so scared to go anywhere near him. But Ryan hisses at me, so I climb onto the bed and awkwardly try to get my hands on the person.<\/p>

Ryan tells me to sit with my back to the wall as he drags the boy in his hands to me. So now I’m sitting with a stranger leaning his back on me as I secure his torso with my arm. He seems to have the body of a teenage boy, although I still have no idea who he is. I press my hand tightly against his mouth so he won’t scream, and Ryan tells me to grab on to him as strongly as I can. I nod and watch him pull the covers aside, clearing any barrier between him and this unknown boy.<\/p>

His attempts to escape become almost impossible to stop once we both realize that Ryan is pulling down his pants. My heart starts racing even faster than before and I ask Ryan frantically what the hell he thinks he’s doing. He tells me to be quiet and hold the guy steady. Soon the person between my arms is pantless, too, and Ryan struggles to set his legs ready for intercourse.<\/p>

Between all the darkness and body parts, I’m able to hear the first cry of pain, and I dart my eyes away to avoid witnessing the act. No matter where I look, I can still sense the harsh movements from the corner of my eyes, and shutting them only lets me focus on the horrifying noises taking place. So instead I find my haven, a place I always go to for comfort—Ryan’s eyes. I focus on the tiny bit I can see of his eyes and forget about everything. I pretend there is no one else here, just me and those eyes.<\/p>

Then I notice Ryan leaning closer and putting his hands on the boy’s throat, and I hear him struggling for breath. I want to let go so desperately, but I remember Ryan’s words and focus on his eyes again, enraged and lustful but still my eyes. The thrusts have become urgently violent, but all I can think of is Ryan and a book and a dull exchange of words.<\/p>

I hear Ryan come and feel him slow down his thrusts, and I just now realize that the boy I’m holding is perfectly still except for Ryan’s jerking movements. I let go of his chest with my left arm to feel the pulse of his wrist but fail to find one. Exhausted, Ryan drops his head and supports himself on the bed with both hands. I know I’m holding a corpse, but I’m afraid to move.<\/p>

Ryan looks up at me, still breathing heavily through his nose. He instructs me to stay where I am and wait for him to come back. A minute later, he’s back in the room with a plastic trash bag that we use to put the dead boy in. We manage to escape with the body without drawing any attention to ourselves.<\/p>

Ryan guides me through a more familiar path, and soon we’re at the beach. The waves roar as we walk unnoticed toward them. We carry the bag into the freezing-cold water with no hesitation and let the waves finish the job for us.<\/p>

By the time we reach our home, the sun has already risen and the birds are already chirping. We don’t bother changing or washing up; instead we lie on the ground and let the filth sink into the core of our souls. I want to go to sleep and wake up and realize—or at least pretend—that it was all a nightmare. But first Ryan turns to me and makes me look directly into his eyes. I don’t know if I can do that anymore. He lets me know that none of this is my fault whatsoever. Then he makes me swear that I love him, and I do. He swears that he loves me more than anything, more than himself. He kisses me and holds my hand until we both fall asleep.<\/p>

~~~<\/p>

I wake up later that morning without Ryan by my side. I want to assume that he’s sleeping comfortably on the bed while I suffered a serious case of sleep-walking last night. I check the room but he’s not there. I call his cell phone but it rings somewhere in the living room. There is no note or any way for me to know where he’s gone.<\/p>

I sit down to think about where he could be, but my thoughts keep going back to last night. Could it all have been a terrible nightmare? Everything is so real and so vividly present in my memory, though. The way that boy jolted and begged to be released while Ryan pressed his fingers around his neck.<\/p>

It’s one of those things that you know you’ll probably regret and feel more scared about afterward, but I have to know if it really happened. I take my car and head to the beach once again. There’s hardly any people there, but even just one witness is enough to have me sent to prison for the rest of my life. I could lie. I could say I just found something and it seemed suspicious.<\/p>

I throw myself into the water in search of something that might be miles into the ocean by now. But after a couple of minutes, I catch a glimpse of a black plastic bag a few meters off the reach of the waves. I swim my way out and run toward the filled-up garbage bag. When I try to get it open, my hands make it impossible to untie the knot due to how violently they’re shaking. I press my face against the palm of my hands and take a deep, long breath.<\/p>

A little more relaxed but still just as emotionally disturbed, I pull the straps and see damp hair first. I don’t know whether I can get myself to open the bag all the way, but something in me urges me to go on. I expand the opening of the bag and see a half-naked body, just like we had left it last night. I can’t make myself see his face; picturing his expression is horrifying enough. I dig my hand into the bag and reach for his hand just like I did last night, hoping for a pulse as if there were any chance that this boy could still be alive.<\/p>

But before I can settle my thumb on a major artery, I notice a striking familiarity about his hand. I’ve seen these fingers many times in my life before, and I hurry to turn the boy’s face toward me. Seeing Ryan lying dead in a plastic bag in front of me is almost too impossible, to ghastly for me to accept it. I keep looking away and back into the bag hoping for a different outcome, but it’s always the same: Ryan, with a face as lifeless as a doll and eyes as empty as my heart.<\/p>

A man’s voice suddenly startles me from behind, his tone sounding more accusing than it probably is. I don’t know what to do when he asks what’s in the bag. I try to work up a lie, but my mind and my mouth betray me. Before I can help it, the older guy is already sneaking around inside the bag, and to my surprise he doesn’t exclaim in shock or bombard me with compromising questions. I dare to turn around and look at the bag, but it’s filled with old coins. I make an effort not to seem confused, and then the man tells me I’ve got an impressive collection before walking away.<\/p>

I wait for him to walk a few more steps before I search hysterically through all the coins, but there is no sign of Ryan. Instead, I find coin after coin, every single one a different size and color, as if they were from different time periods and different countries.<\/p>

Just as I begin to question my sanity and sobriety, I stand up and look at the coins before me. I drag the bag through the sand, leaving a trail that will soon be erased by the wind, the waves, and footsteps. I dump the bag into the sea and walk away without turning back.<\/p>

I come home with a sort of pain in my chest. When I open the door, I find Sarah inside, who receives me with a beautiful smile. She must see I’m hurting because right away her expression changes and she comes to comfort me. She says I look like I’ve been crying, but I tell her I’m fine, that I don’t even remember what was distressing me. She kisses me anyway and tells me she loves me. I answer I love her back, more than anything in the world.<\/p><\/a>

<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:8566","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/8566.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=8566"}}],"title":"Forever Your Most Vivid Dream","published":"2011-02-22T05:42:35Z","updated":"2012-04-24T04:11:12Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fluff"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"angst"}}],"content":"Title: <\/strong>Forever Your Most Vivid Dream<\/a>
Author: <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> <\/strong>
Rating: <\/b>PG
Pairing: <\/b>Any pairing will work, but in my mind Brendon is speaking to Ryan.
POV: <\/b>First
Summary:<\/b> After years of being your best friend, I have to say that I enjoyed every minute of it, and I'm glad I met you.<\/em>
Disclaimer: <\/strong>This all came from my mind. I own no one.
Beta: <\/a>youignorantfool<\/b><\/a><\/span> <\/b>
Author Notes: <\/strong>I started writing down whatever came to mind, and this happened.

You’re right here lying on the roof, gazing at the stars and staring at the moon. I know you’re trying as hard as you can to look past all the black and the dots of white. You don’t have to. Frankly, you won’t see anything. Eyes provide vision by seeking superficial light. If you want to see more than combinations from the color spectrum, you have to look within yourself. Close your eyes, even, and you just might see more clearly what you’re looking for.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

That time, when I said I loved you, I meant it. And I might be making this up, but I could swear you said it back in a whisper that barely reached my ears. Actions speak louder than words, which reassures me that you truly felt something for me, that my love wasn’t unrequited. Still, I would have wanted to ask you to speak up, just once. It would have been nice to hear it.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

I’m not sure you know this, but you made me cry more than once. It sounds selfish putting it that way, because really, I made myself cry. If you ever heard me say sorry, you can bet I was reproaching myself just moments before. Knowing I’d hurt you would consequently boomerang on me. It was confusing and frustrating because I never knew if I should or shouldn’t be mad at you for something. Even when you did something that would upset me, I would question my negative reaction, because I didn’t want to instill guilt on you. I don’t know if that was normal.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

I remember you telling me I was your guardian angel. I felt like your guardian angel, always looking out for you. Waking up in a hospital room was a bit scary, I must admit, but it’s okay. I would have done it again. It was painful and the recovery was slow, but that’s just part of the job. I’m glad it happened the way it happened, if it had to happen at all. If I had seen you lying on that hospital bed with bruises I knew I could’ve taken from you, I would’ve had a hard time forgiving myself. The only thing I feel bad about is that you probably felt that way, being at the other end. We can never be satisfied. I still think it was worth it.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

And for you that feeling was amplified a year later, when destiny decided to keep us apart. I know you’re hurt, but you have to know that it wasn’t your fault, that you don’t have to live with that guilt.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

After years of being your best friend, I have to say that I enjoyed every minute of it, and I’m glad I met you. I’m not sure of the ending, though. I know my feelings, although I’m still uncertain of yours, but I’m sure we were going somewhere. Gosh, it ended so soon, just there when I felt myself growing closer to you and you growing closer to me. I never even had a chance to kiss your lips. Tonight I’ll do just that, touch your lips for the first time and seal my love for once and for all. I love you. I hope this counts, even if it’s one-sided. No—it’s not one-sided; you’re thinking of me, and that makes it count. So I’ll pretend you can hear me sitting here by you. And I’ll keep talking and watch you gaze, watch you remember, watch you sleep. And remember to look within yourself. I’m not out there among the stars. I’m in your memory, in your heart. Now it’s almost time for me to go, so I have to say goodbye. Close your eyes, and when you remember my smile and the sound of my voice, and that tear starts progressing out your eyelid and toward your cheek, I’ll lean down and kiss you goodbye. Ready? One… Two…<\/span><\/span><\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:8177","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/8177.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=8177"}}],"title":"What Halloween Means to Me","published":"2010-11-01T05:22:03Z","updated":"2010-11-01T05:40:45Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"horror"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"other bands\/characters"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"holiday"}}],"content":"Title: <\/strong>What Halloween Means to Me
Author: <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> <\/strong>
Rating: <\/b>R
Pairing: <\/b>Rydon
POV: <\/b>Third
Summary:<\/b> Ryan and Brendon are in for a surprise at the Lynch residence.
Disclaimer: <\/strong>This is all fiction, nobody belongs to me, and it's all part of my own imagination.
Beta: <\/a>youignorantfool<\/b><\/a><\/span> <\/b>
Author Notes: <\/strong>I have this curse of being late forever and always. Sorry. I wrote this just today. I was planning on writing a chaptered Halloween special kind of thing, but I didn't have enough time, so you guys are gonna have to wait a whole year for that =] A special thanks to the wonderful Stephen Lynch for being so awesome. And creepy. Happy Halloween!



The night was cold and breezy. Dusk had long been gone by now, but many still roamed the streets, hunting candy and a good scare. Two boys spent part of their Halloween night inside a cemetery, where the dead took their eternal naps.<\/p>

Ryan—manmade blood leaving his hair and covering much of his face and his white and scratched t-shirt—had suggested the cemetery to add some terror to their night. "It's not abandoned. How can there be an abandoned graveyard? Unless the bodies were taken away."<\/p>

"Hmm, I guess you're right," said Brendon. Black boots, a black eye patch, a red and white bandana, and a fake sword formed part of his pirate costume.<\/p>

The two boys kept walking among the graves of the deceased, reading some of them and skipping others. They decided to stop and sit down on the dirty ground somewhere.<\/p>

"Are you tired?" Brendon asked him. "For the night."<\/p>

"I don't mind leaving or staying," Ryan replied. "But I have to admit this place is giving me something close to the creeps. And the chills."<\/p>

"Hah, you're such a scary cat," scorned Brendon. Then he felt a soft and peculiar sensation tickling his arm. He looked down to his right and saw a spider crawling up his sleeve. Standing up in one jump, he frantically tried to get the insect off his arm.<\/p>

"Nice one," said Ryan.<\/p>

"Hey, spiders bite!" Brendon protested defensively. "I don't wanna die from spider poison or something."<\/p>

"Uh-huh."<\/p>

Brendon shot Ryan an indignant look and asked him if he wanted to go trick-or-treating some more.<\/p>

Just as Brendon stopped speaking, a distant, muffled cry took away the silence of the cemetery. The voice seemed to come from a tortured woman letting out her pain. Ryan and Brendon looked at each other wide-eyed and contained the air inside their lungs.<\/p>

"What was that?" Ryan asked as he got up next to Brendon.<\/p>

Once again, a voice was heard. This time it was a male whispering the word "No."<\/p>

Ryan and Brendon grasped each other's hands and ran out of the place, running out of breath once they were out.<\/p>

"Bren, let's go home," Ryan told him, unwilling to stay there any longer.<\/p>

"Ry, it's okay," he said. "It's probably some other kids trying to scare us. Let's go get some candy, yeah?"<\/p>

Ryan didn't want to get any more candy at all. He tried to tell Brendon to reconsider, but Brendon ignored him and took him back to the streets. Out there, many kids and teens and parents traveled on the sidewalks, stopping at every door. From ghosts to giant phones, there were all kinds of cute, scary, and creative costumes.<\/p>

Down the street, Brendon saw a house fully decorated with Halloween ornaments. Scattered pumpkins, Jack-O-Lanterns, human skulls, a black coffin, and even a seemingly dead body hanging from the roof got Brendon's attention and interest. "Let's go there," he told Ryan.<\/p>

"Okay," he agreed, though still reluctant to being outside.<\/p>

When they reached the doorstep of the house, Brendon pressed the doorbell button and waited for an answer. After a few seconds, the door handle turned and the door opened merely by a crack. Looking out was a pair of blue-green eyes, glancing at Ryan and Brendon back and forth to study them.<\/p>

"Yes?" asked a voice, the man behind the door.<\/p>

"Uh, trick or treat?" answered Brendon, thinking it was fairly obvious what they wanted.<\/p>

The man carefully opened the door wider, revealing his whole figure to the boys. Probably in his late thirties, he was a white male with a shaved face and short, brown hair styled carelessly with some gel. He grinned at the boys and said, "Of course, you want some treats." Brendon and Ryan looked at each other confused while the man looked through his pumpkin basket on the counter. "I'm afraid I don't have enough for the both of you," he said, a look of despair on his face. Suddenly, his expression brightened. "Oh, I just remembered I have more candy in my basement. Would you two boys like to come in and wait for me to come back?"<\/p>

The boys silently agreed to comply and did as the man suggested.<\/p>

The man grinned wide again. He said, "I won't take long," and left the two boys alone in his living room.<\/p>

Ryan looked around the house while he waited. It was a nice home, with decent furniture, and very organized. He then spotted the clock and realized it was way past their bedtime. "We should go home after this," he said to Brendon, pointing to the clock on the wall.<\/p>

"All right, then."<\/p>

"You're not just saying that, right? I'll get killed if I'm not home soon."<\/p>

Brendon took Ryan's head with his hand and planted a kiss on his hair. "Yes, we're heading home after this."<\/p>

When the man finally came back, his orange bucket was filled to the point that the candy was almost spilling out from it. He asked the guys to take whatever they wanted, as much as they wanted. Holding the bucket, the two of them looked through it for anything that looked appetizing while the man walked around them.<\/p>

As fast as the blink of an eye, the man caged the boys in his arms, clasping their mouths and noses with some towels. Brendon and Ryan tried desperately to free themselves from the man's grasp, but soon they were falling unconscious onto the floor.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

Upon awakening, Ryan and Brendon found themselves taped to a chair each, with duct tape securing their wrists and ankles to the chairs and sealing their mouths shut. They were in an obscure room, no windows or lights except for a red glow emitted from inside a colored light bulb on the ceiling. They looked to their side to find each other, exchanging looks and growls of fear. They couldn't see clearly, but they were able to make out a tall, large table a few feet away from them. On the wall opposite to them was a collection of knives, saws, ropes, and other tools they didn't even recognize.<\/p>

Then they heard a door open; it was the door leading to the basement. For a moment the boys could see bright light as the man entered and went down to accompany them.<\/p>

"You're awake now," he pointed out.<\/p>

The boys tried to scream, but the man ignored their pleas. Instead, he headed for the tools and grabbed a large kitchen knife. He rubbed his fingers against it, testing its sharpness. Then he walked over to where the boys were, always tilting his head slightly to the right and raising his left eyebrow and, of course, giving that daunting smirk he wore so much. He approached Ryan and caressed his hair, kneeling down a bit to talk into his ear. "Don't be afraid, little boy," he said. "I don't like my meat hard and tense.”<\/p>

Ryan let out woeful whimpers and closed his eyes in terror.<\/p>

The man turned to Brendon next, changing positions to stand by him. "What about you? Are you scared?"<\/p>

Brendon was trembling with fear, and his eyes gave it away. Still, he did not reply.<\/p>

"Aww, it's okay, young one. You know what? I'll let you go! In fact, I'll let you both go! What do you say to that?" He looked at both of them with a grin so wide and his whole face so filled with joy.<\/p>

Brendon and Ryan seemed confused and didn't know what to make of it. But their hopes improved when the man cut the tape tying the boys to the chairs. In a few moments, they were completely free.<\/p>

"There! You're free to go!" he said, gesturing to the door with his arm.<\/p>

The boys hesitated momentarily but then started running for the door. When they reached it, it was locked from the outside, so there was no way to open it.<\/p>

"Haha! Just kidding! You should've seen your faces; you were so happy," he mocked.<\/p>

Brendon left his fear aside and was struck with anger now. He ran toward the man and tried to attack him, but a taser stopped him immediately and sent him to the ground.<\/p>

"Who wants to eat?!" the man asked before grabbing Brendon and struggling to tie him to the table against his will. When he was almost done, Ryan came from behind him and surrounded his neck with his arm, trying to strangle him. The man was restricted of air, but he still managed to get ahold of Ryan and handcuffed him to a pole. "Please, don't fight."<\/p>

The man then proceeded to take a chainsaw from his wall. He turned it on, exclaiming, "Yes! Roar for poppa!"<\/p>

"No! Please! No!" pleaded Brendon. But it was useless, for his blood then splattered and stained the man's shirt and face. Ryan watched horrified as Brendon was being mutilated in half and his guts found their way out.<\/p>

"Mwahahaha!" laughed the man maniacally. He put his chainsaw down and grabbed a knife and fork, carving inside Brendon's body for his internal organs. After he had added various human ingredients to his stew, he addressed Ryan. "Want to try some?"<\/p>

"Go to Hell!" he yelled at him, tears streaming down his face.<\/p>

"Your loss," he said. "Anyway, you're next." He moved Brendon's remains to the side and got Ryan on the table, his body facing down. This time, he held a machete knife in his hand. "Okay, ready?" Ryan tightened his eyes and held his breath, every inch of him shaking.<\/p>

"One, two..." Before the man could say three, Ryan's head was rolling on the table while his body expulsed a puddle of blood that matched the one on his costume.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

Several minutes later, while the man hummed a little tune and prepared his dinner in the basement, another couple of kids rang the doorbell.<\/p>

One of them, Jon, was dressed as a slice of Swiss cheese. The other one, Spencer, was disguised as a round pumpkin pie.<\/p>

"There's nobody. Let's go, Jon."<\/p>

The boys stood there a second and started walking back. Before they could leave, the door opened lightly, and they returned. "Trick or treat," said Jon.<\/p>

"Hi there, kids. You want a treat? I think you'll be my<\/i> treat because you guys look so delicious."<\/p>

"Uh, thanks," said Spencer.<\/p>

The man looked at them both and smirked. "No, thank you<\/em>."


Y fin.<\/p>
<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:7839","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/7839.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=7839"}}],"title":"The Three or Four Times Ryan Tries to Kill Himself (And the One Time He Kind of Does)","published":"2010-09-12T05:52:35Z","updated":"2010-09-12T06:16:05Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"medical condition"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"angst"}}],"content":"Title: <\/strong>The Three or Four Times Ryan Tries to Kill Himself (And the One Time He Kind of Does)
<\/strong>Author: <\/b><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/b>PG-13
Pairing: <\/b>Rydon
POV: <\/b>Second, Ryan's
Summary:<\/b> Because Ryan fails at life. And death.
Disclaimer: <\/strong>Um, no, this didn't happen. I don't own these guys, duh. And yeah, the story's mine.
Beta: <\/b><\/a>youignorantfool<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Author Notes: <\/strong>I wrote this like in four hours the other day when I was feeling kind of depressed. Again. And yes, I wrote about death. Again. Oh well, uh... enjoy.



You grab a notebook and pen, the first one you find, which happens to be purple in ink. You tear out a lined piece of paper, leaving a messy residue at the edge of the page from the holes the spirals go into. You sit on your chair, place your utensils on your desk, and begin to write. The words flow with great ease directly from your mind to your hand to the paper. You let out emotions, apathetic of who reads or what they think. This time, it's just you letting the world know what really haunts your mind.<\/p>

And so you write—<\/p>

 <\/p>

To my friends and family and anyone who cares<\/i><\/p>

I'm sorry I'm doing this but<\/s><\/i><\/p>

I know you might hate me for this<\/s><\/i><\/p>

Regardless of<\/s><\/i><\/p>

after thinking for so long I think I'm doing whats right. Im tired of living, i just dont find the motivasion to live anymore. All my days are the same always boring and gray and to depressed to see any happiness in this world. I'm sorry if I'm hurting you, but if you love me you will acept<\/s> accept my decision of killing myself because i'm sure you dont want to see me in this much pain all the fucking time. so please don't judge me. Everyday I find a new reason to hate my life and the world and i just see that its not worth it because theres nothing beutiful enough or nothin that's really worth it cuz everything sucks.<\/i><\/p>

I'm leaving and never comin back<\/s><\/i><\/p>

This is my last goodbye I'll miss you<\/s><\/i><\/p>

Everyone take care, and please forgive me if you can<\/i><\/p>

Ryan Ross<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

When you've written your signature and think you're done with your letter, you put the pen down and carelessly fold the paper in half, then in half again so that it now resembles a square.<\/p>

You stand up with confidence and then check outside the door. No one's home, so you step back inside and gather all the stuff you've accumulated and planned on using to carry out your mission. You tuck the note inside your back pocket and head for the back door leading to your backyard.<\/p>

Once outside, you approach the tree that's planted there, tall and decent-looking. You hope what you have is enough to get the job done, although you're well aware that cheap comes with a price. Still, you take the microphone that came with your karaoke machine and tie one end to the trunk of the tree, securing it with duct tape. You take the other end, the one with the mic, and throw it over one of the branches. The mic makes it across and falls, hanging upside down. You extend the chair you were sitting on just minutes ago and place it just below the mic. The chair successfully supports you, but you're not sure about the tree branch. You pull the black cord connected to the microphone as a test, and the branch moves a little more than you expected. You want to make sure it's strong enough to hold all your weight, so you jump and hold on to it with your arms, falling hard on your butt after swinging there for a few seconds. You stay on the ground and wait for your butt to recover, but soon that's not the problem anymore.<\/p>

There's a crack. Then it's dark.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

You go for the pills next time. Easy. Practical.<\/p>

You open the kitchen cabinet and all you find is Advil. You take the package and sit on the dining table, looking in front of you at the box of pills, a full glass of water, and the not-so-neatly folded letter you wrote.<\/p>

You open the rectangular package, drop a pill on your palm, and pinch it with your thumb and index finger. You throw your head back and pull out your tongue as far as possible, hurting your throat just a bit. You lead your fingers to the opening of your mouth and hesitate one or two seconds before letting go of the big, blue pill. Instead of going straight down your throat, it sticks somewhere on your tongue where it's not far enough to swallow. You spit it out and try again, thinking it's unbelievable you still have trouble swallowing a fucking pill at sixteen.<\/p>

You try again and this time it actually makes it far down enough so that you swallow it with a drink of your water. Now it's time for the next pill, so you repeat the whole process again. The second pill makes it as well, but you begin to choke and you don't know if it's because of the pill or your own saliva or a combination of the two.<\/p>

After coughing repeatedly and feeling your eyes water and struggling for dear life, the pill slides up your throat and into your mouth. You spit it out and immediately drink more of your water, having trouble breathing and drinking and coughing all at the same time.<\/p>

Maybe you're not meant to die by OD.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

You had to think more seriously about this one, but you finally made up your mind.<\/p>

You found a nice bridge that you can easily jump from and hopefully you’ll drown at the bottom of it. Actually, you pray the impact will kill you before dying a slow, agonizing death underwater.<\/p>

You stand right in the middle, facing outward. You take a brief moment to take the whole view and situation in, let it sink in your mind and get used to it. You take the note from your back pocket and leave it on the ground, putting a rock on top of it to keep it from flying away with the air. Then you breathe in and let it out slowly before climbing to the outside of the rail. You look down and see the water moving, slight waves giving it some texture. The fall is far, and suddenly your palms are sweaty and your wrists get those tickling bubbles in your blood. Your body asks you not to let go and jump, and your foresight advises you the same, but you're here and you can't turn back now. You've made up your mind and you have to end it one way or another.<\/p>

Intruding your thoughts, a loud ring comes from the cell phone in your pocket. Your fists clench tighter and you shut your eyes as a reaction to the scare the phone gave you. You carefully retrieve the phone from your pants and answer the call without checking the number.<\/p>

"Hello?"<\/p>

"Ryan, where are you?" It's Jon.<\/p>

"I'm… Uh… What do you want?" you protest.<\/p>

"I need a favor."<\/p>

You sigh loudly into the phone. "Now?"<\/p>

"Yes, now."<\/p>

"What do you need?"<\/p>

"I need you to help me write my book report."<\/p>

You look at the phone as if trying to send Jon a look via the line. "Are you serious?! I'm kind of busy; can't you ask anyone else?!"<\/p>

"No, dude. Almost nobody I know did it, and those who did, did it without really reading the book. I know you did and all and I really, really need to pass this class!"<\/p>

The guilt gets to you but the irritation and need to proceed keep you where you are. "Jon…"<\/p>

"C'mon, Ry! You're my only hope! I can't afford to fail or cheat and get caught."<\/p>

You give in, of course, because Jon's your friend and because he leaves you no choice. You hesitate for a moment before answering, "Fine, I'll be there soon."<\/p>

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"<\/p>

"Whatever. Bye."<\/p>

You take the phone away from your ear and press the little, red button to hang up. While you're still holding your phone, though, it slips from your sweaty hand and falls straight into the water, making a small splash when it hits down there. You grunt because life is a bitch and then get yourself back on safe ground, making sure you don't slip and fall like your phone did.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

Guns are better. They're quick and easy and painless and guaranteed. After all, it's the most often used method for suicide.<\/p>

You call your old friend Brendon because he's the only one you know to own a gun. Well, he doesn't, but his parents do. It's a little awkward when he picks up the phone because you haven't talked to him in a while, and the last time you did was awkward on its own.<\/p>

"Hi, Brendon. It's Ryan."<\/p>

"Oh, um, hi," he says with nervous—or perhaps fake—delight.<\/p>

"Listen, um, could you… could you maybe let me go to your house? I need a favor, but I have to ask you when I'm there."<\/p>

"Yeah, sure," he responds.<\/p>

You and Brendon used to be best friends, but then you started to like him as more than a friend and decided to ask him out. He said no to you supposedly because he doesn't want to date anyone right now. You took that as a personal offense because everybody knows that nobody wants to stay single just because. Duh.<\/p>

Well, that was a few months ago, and you haven't talked to each other since, each of you avoiding the other. But seeing him again won't really matter that much since your life is pretty much about to be over, so you ignore the psychological discomfort.<\/p>

"Hi," you say with lips slightly curled up when Brendon opens the door.<\/p>

"Hi," he says back, letting you in. "So what is it that you needed?"<\/p>

"Um, are we alone?"<\/p>

Brendon seems to be taken by surprise with the question, so you rephrase.<\/p>

"I mean, I want to ask you something but I don't want your parents to know."<\/p>

"Uh, no, they're here, but we can go to my room if you want privacy."<\/p>

"Okay," you say.<\/p>

He leads you to his room, one which you've actually visited many times before. "Okay, so what is it?" he asks again.<\/p>

"Do your parents still have that gun?"<\/p>

Brendon seems to be surprised once again. "The one I showed you and we were always too afraid to touch?"<\/p>

"Yeah, that one," you say, thinking back at the memory.<\/p>

"Uh, yeah, why?" he asks confused.<\/p>

"I need it. If I could borrow it, that is," you clarify politely.<\/p>

"What for?"<\/p>

"Well, um, it's not easy to say and it's not easy to hear, but I kind of want to shoot myself."<\/p>

Brendon brings his eyebrows together and drops his mouth slightly open. "What?"<\/p>

"I'm thinking of killing myself. Actually, it's more of a decision…"<\/p>

"You can't kill yourself," he interrupts brusquely.<\/p>

"What? Why not?"<\/p>

"What do you mean, 'Why not?'? I'm not gonna let you commit suicide. You shouldn't. You can't just throw your life away just like that," he tries to reason.<\/p>

"It's my life. You have no right to tell me what to do with it," you argue back.<\/p>

"Yeah but you should think about it more carefully."<\/p>

"I have<\/i> thought about it carefully. I don't wanna live. It's that simple."<\/p>

"But think of what you can do if you do live. You can accomplish great things. C'mon, Ry, you're smart, good-looking, talented. You have many qualities that allow you to have a good life."<\/p>

"I don't care. I won't care when I'm dead. It's just easier."<\/p>

"What about those who love you? Don't you care about their feelings?"<\/p>

"Like who? Very few people will mourn my death, and they'll get over it soon."<\/p>

"How can you say that? How blind can you be to say that?"<\/p>

"Look, I didn't come here to argue. I think I should just leave since you're obviously not gonna help me." You walk toward the door but Brendon stands in front of it before you can get out.<\/p>

"No. You're just gonna go out there and find a way to do it. I won't let you."<\/p>

"Well then, I'll just sit here and die of boredom, I guess," you state discontent.<\/p>

Brendon sits next to you on the bed without saying a word. About a minute passes without either of you trying to speak at all until Brendon softly breaks the silence. "You know why I haven't dated in a long time?"<\/p>

"No and I don't care," you flatly declare, even though it's not entirely true.<\/p>

"I have HIV," he says, and the words shoot through your mind like the bullet that hasn't killed you yet. "I'm afraid, embarrassed—I don't know. But I think being single didn't bother me as much until I had to say no to you."<\/p>

You turn sharply to him, his expression serious and yours shocked. "So you liked me?"<\/p>

"I still do," he says.<\/p>

You turn your head to look ahead of you, staring at nothing, and just listen to the echo of his words while your heart pounds irregularly. You still like Brendon, a lot. Heck, sometimes you're pretty sure you love him despite of your young age. You feel a very strong affection for him. It's amazing to know he feels the same after all.<\/p>

"But I can't do that to you, or anyone," he continues. "I wish I could get a second chance and be more careful, but that's not gonna happen. Now my life is compromised. But you—yours isn't, yet you ask me to take it from you. It seems unfair."<\/p>

You ponder silently at the conflict and confusion between your life, his life, and his true feelings. "You know, it would be cool to die like that."<\/p>

Brendon drops his gaze and stares sadly at his lap.<\/p>

"I… I don't mean you. I mean me."<\/p>

He looks up at you, his innocent eyes still showing a sense of hopelessness. But they also show an understanding of what you mean and ask for more of what you have to say.<\/p>

You become shy and look away from him. "I mean, if you like me, and I like you too, then maybe we should… you know. I mean, I don't care about my life, and you can't do this with anyone." You wait for his answer but don't look at him, fearful of what he might say or think.<\/p>

"I told you, I can't do that to you."<\/p>

"Brendon, I'm gonna try to die one way or another. I'd like no other way than this one."<\/p>

"But this isn't quick and it doesn't free you like you want."<\/p>

"Maybe, but if I'm gonna die, I might as well let it happen slowly and enjoy the little time I have left. After all, I have something I want to look forward to."<\/p>

After moments of mere silence, Brendon speaks up when he's made up his mind. "I guess I want to look forward to that, too."<\/p>

You give Brendon a light smile, so vague that a magnifying glass would be necessary to clearly identify it. He smiles back at you, and you lean in to him, kissing him.<\/p>

When the moment comes for both of you to move in the darkness and sweat on the sheets, you join Brendon's club as he gives you his curse as a gift for you to cultivate. Your membership is taken for granted and is more reliable than your written goodbye to life, torn and crumbled somewhere in the garbage can by now. Even if this death is more prolonged than you initially wanted, you don't mind the wait, because you have something worth cherishing in the meantime. Purpose is what you were lacking the most. Now that you have it, maybe it's not ending your life what you embrace about death so much right now as it is your will to die for the fact of not letting die alone.


Y fin.<\/p><\/a>
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<\/a><\/center>
Welcome to my journal. Here you will find bandom fanfiction. Slash, to be precise. Panic! slash, actually. Most, if not all, of my stories are Ryden. You will not find any personal entries here since this is exclusively for fics.

Well, feel free to read or simply walk away. You can use this entry to leave general comments, fic requests, life philosophies, random quotes, troll comments, or whatever the heck you want. Remember that you can still leave comments anonymously if you don't have a LJ account.

Well, enough for this introduction; let's move on with our lives.

----------

Update (Jul. 21, 2013):<\/b> I rarely log on to LiveJournal anymore, but I still get notifications sent to my email, so don't be afraid to leave a comment or send me a message. Those are always nice."},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:7290","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/7290.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=7290"}}],"title":"Burning Ambush, Hot Debris","published":"2010-08-24T01:05:01Z","updated":"2011-08-12T08:25:03Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fluff"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"angst"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"other bands\/characters"}}],"content":"Title:<\/strong> Burning Ambush, Hot Debris
Author: <\/strong><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/strong>PG-13
Warning:<\/strong> If you're allergic to sadness, you might not want to read this.
Pairing:<\/strong> Rydon
POV: <\/strong>Second, Ryan
Summary: <\/strong>Ryan is eager to have a family. He and Brendon decide it's time to have a baby.
Disclaimer: <\/strong>This came from my mind, hence it's mine and it didn't happen. I don't own the people or anything.
Beta: <\/strong><\/a>melody_so_sweet<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Author Notes: <\/strong><\/a>forbiddenverses<\/b><\/a><\/span>  said she would read this, so she better do it if you don't want my little heart to suffer. No pressure ;) On another note, this story was so fun and easy to write. I know it's probably not as great to read it as it was for me to write it, but as the author, I will dearly hold this piece of writing close to my heart regardless of how many or what kind of comments it gets. Thank you. That said--enjoy =)
 

 <\/p>



You always wanted a big family. Your own family wasn't all that full, neither by members nor by great loving memories. Being an only child, you often felt the need for a sibling to play with, to fight with, to just be there for you. Sometimes you felt lonesome, or worse—lonely. Thankfully you had friends, and they usually made up for the hole you kept perceiving throughout your childhood and adolescence.<\/p>

Your friends were also supportive when you were depressed because of your parents. It's true that they were not exactly the loving couple most children want, but you were strong enough to live through it.<\/p>

You don't want any of this in your new family. You want to be different, to be a better parent, and provide your children with lots of affection and company.<\/p>

You're still young and new to the whole independence concept, but you've already taken baby steps toward forming your brand new family, and your relationship with Brendon is the foundation. He's sweet, funny, talented, and most definitely good-looking. You've known him for years, and dated him for almost as long. He's a great candidate for a father, and you know it—not just because of all the experience you've had with him, but because you see it in his eyes. It might be love's blindfold, but when you see him you get a strong feeling in your gut that tells you how much you love him, how much he loves you, and how much he will love your children.<\/p>

Tonight, he takes you to dinner. He hasn't done so in a long time, but he says he wants to "reinvent your love," whatever that means. You sit at the table, a white tablecloth on top of a longer maroon one. Brendon asks for wine, beautifully matching the table and the rose placed in a glass vase between the two of you. It's all far too corny, you think, but you still like it. You keep thinking there's going to be sex tonight, but you wonder whether it's part of your treat or if this whole night out is a scheme to get what he wants in bed.<\/p>

"Ryan," he says. "Tonight's for you—for us." That only makes you think your second theory is the right one.<\/p>

"Thanks, baby. I love the place, the food, everything."<\/p>

"I love you<\/i>," he says smiling.<\/p>

"Aw, don't be so cheesy," you joke.<\/p>

"But it's true! I just want you to know you're the love of my life, and I wouldn't mind spending the rest of it with you."<\/p>

You smile at him, and you think you may be blushing.<\/p>

After you both eat your dinner and chat about anything and everything, Brendon asks you for the waiter's location.<\/p>

"I don't know," you say, looking around for him.<\/p>

He looks behind him, too, but to no avail. "Oh well," he declares, looking at you, and he doesn't stop staring or smirking, an evil little smile that's both sweet and mystifying.<\/p>

"What is it?" you ask. He doesn't answer and instead keeps looking at you and displaying his front teeth. You start to think you have something on your face, but then he leans closer to you, supporting himself with his hands on the table. You get the hint and similarly lean toward him and his sealed lips. You offer a quick peck, since PDA isn't your thing. But Brendon makes sure to hold your head with both his hands, and he doesn't let go. Soon, the kiss turns into a baiser<\/i>, and you enjoy the metaphorically sweet taste of his mouth.<\/p>

In the middle of the kiss, you feel something loose and solid, and for a millisecond you think Brendon just lost a tooth. However, you realize it feels and tastes like metal, and your tongue begins to understand the shape of the object—round and hollow. You pull away, spit out the small circle onto your palm, and see the wet, golden ring, plain and thick. You're surprised and don't remember whether you knew what it was before you saw it or not, but it doesn't really matter. The look on Brendon's face when you look up at him is almost the same as it was before the kiss, and you know yours is much more expressive now.<\/p>

"Bren?" you question.<\/p>

"Will you marry me?" he whispers, and your world just lost the meaning of time.<\/p>

You take a moment of hesitation, and not because you're not sure—oh God, you're sure<\/i>—but because you get that feeling you get right after you wake up, when your brain tries to adjust to what is real and what isn't.<\/p>

"Yes!" you reply.<\/p>

Brendon sits back down and so do you. He takes the ring from your hand and puts the piece of jewelry on your left ring finger—the emblem for a taken hand, a taken man. You are Brendon's. Brendon is yours.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

You both chose a Sunday for your ceremony. Everyone's busy, running up and down, taking care of this and that. And you two look magnificent with your black tuxedos over cream-colored shirts.<\/p>

It's your day, finally the day you expose yourselves to the world as a merged single unit. You two have longed for the symbolic celebration forever, and now you savor the moment as much as you hope to savor your life as Brendon's life companion.<\/p>

From the kitchen comes Spencer, well dressed also, of course, and he takes your shoulder. "Ryan, I am so<\/i>, so happy for you." His smile is welcomed with another one from you.<\/p>

"Thank you. I'm glad you made it. I would've been devastated if you hadn't," you say with a playful laugh.<\/p>

"I wouldn't miss the day my man became someone else's man! Although, when I put it that way, I kind of don't like the idea." You both laugh. He draws you closer and hugs you, tapping your back. He keeps you there to say, "I wish you the best." You can hear the weakness in his voice, even though he's always said he's not a sissy, the kind that cries at weddings.<\/p>

"Thanks," you answer. And that's exactly what you want: the best. But you're almost certain neither you nor Brendon will get this one wrong.<\/p>

At the room where the big event is to take place, all guests are seated and watching as the officiant gives you and Brendon instructions. You stand up, both of you, and repeat word by word what you're told. Then each of you put the rings on the other, and as you do, you struggle a little with Brendon's ring. You suck in air to exhale your nerves and slide the ring fully into his finger, then you look at him, and he's smiling. You smile, partly to mimic him, partly because you're nervous. You know he's nervous, too, but his eyes shine at you, because of you.<\/p>

Brendon takes the pen from the woman and signs the document in front of him, his written 'I do.' You follow after him, signing Ryan Ross<\/i> next to Brendon's signature, and as you run the pen across the line, you think, This is it<\/i>. The witnesses sign the paper and so does the lady officiant, and it's done. It's official.<\/p>

Now you're asked to kiss, and you make the final signature with your lips. Now<\/i> it's official.<\/p>

The guests clap, happy for your newly established domestic partnership. They're given time to hug you and take pictures. You go around the room, laughing, joking, seeing red eyes everywhere. The last red eyes you see are Brendon's, and you're teary too. You don't cry even though you want to, instead kissing Brendon once again and wiping one of his tears with your finger. What finally pushes a tear out your eye are his words, "Love you, babe."<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

Things with Brendon have been harsh these past few weeks. Somehow everything got out of hand, and now you constantly fight. Money, jealousy—any little thing can get to you, and most of the time you're either screaming at or not talking to each other.<\/p>

But you didn't want this. Yes, you knew and still know that all couples fight, but it seems never-ending this time. You want it to end because you love him so much. You want it to end because you always thought you could make it, could have a happy life with him, and still hope you will.<\/p>

He talks to you today, sits down with you on the kitchen table, and you talk like you hadn't in months. There's a lot to say, but most importantly, you're willing to listen. And you do.<\/p>

More weeks come ahead, and the world on your shoulders just lost a ton's worth of weight. Your lungs breathe out relief as the days go on.<\/p>

He cuddles with you on the couch at last.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

You wake up one day, and it comes to you. You're sure of what you're thinking; something tells you it's right, as if you were getting hints about a dream you don't remember.<\/p>

The thought has haunted you for ages, and you've pondered long and hard. But decisions like these are difficult to make, even when you think you've analyzed every aspect of it. There's always something you're waiting for, something within you to give you the green light. But today you feel it, and you're going to tell Brendon.<\/p>

And so you ask him later during the day, when you've both had breakfast so that your metabolism is working correctly and your brain doesn't miss any piece of information vital to the subject.<\/p>

"Bren," you start. "I've been thinking, an' I, um…"<\/p>

"What?" he asks.<\/p>

"I wanna have a baby."<\/p>

He looks at you a little surprised, but then his face settles. "Really? You sure?"<\/p>

"Yeah," you affirm with conviction.<\/p>

"I've thought about it, too. I kind of want one as well."<\/p>

"So… are we?"<\/p>

He delays his answer, looking into the air to think. "I think we could."<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

After a couple of failed tries, the agency suggests Greta, and she's great. She meets the requirements you have agreed upon, and you're charmed by her lovable personality, making her the perfect candidate. The interview turned quickly into a friendly conversation, exchanging ideas, experiences, opinions, and more. It feels like talking to a good neighbor. She seems to share your enthusiasm; she seems to care about you as a couple, as future parents.<\/p>

You and Brendon agree that she's the one, and you qualify her as the best option for your baby.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

Brendon's searching through an online catalog, looking for clothes, furniture, and all the things they will need for your newborn. "Oh, this is nice," he says from across the room. You're watching TV as he does the supply hunt.<\/p>

"Lemme see?" The screen shows a room full of baby items, and it looks like it was flooded with blue paint. "Yeah, that looks nice."<\/p>

"I like the color for the walls."<\/p>

"Yeah, but we can't buy the paint until we know what it's gonna be," you reason. You stay next to Brendon but turn back to the TV.<\/p>

"Hey, look at this one," he says, looking at a room with green and yellow walls.<\/p>

"Yeah, that's pretty."<\/p>

"Maybe something like that, oh and some wallpaper along the bottom edges. It'll look nice. Watch, Imma do the work myself and it's gonna be totally rad, man!" he says grinning.<\/p>

"Rad? What the heck?"<\/p>

"Great, awesome, babylicious—whatever you wanna call it. Now that I’m gonna be a dad I have to keep up with the youngsters."<\/p>

“Yeah, you’re pretty fly for a parent.”<\/p>

Brendon clicks the mouse and keeps looking through the webpage. After a while the typing and clicking have stopped, and Brendon is just staring blankly at the glowing screen. He speaks again a few moments later, this time putting the jokes aside and using a more serious tone of voice. "Ry, I think you should provide the sperm."<\/p>

You turn to him to examine him and try to decipher his attitude toward the matter. "Are you sure?"<\/p>

"Positive."<\/p>

"Why? I mean, it doesn’t have to be me, and you know it. It’s okay; we could also get the sperm from a donor. Or, you know, just keep it a surprise…"<\/p>

He reaches for your hand, a polite way to beckon you to shut up. "Ryan, it’s all right. I always see how happy you get when we talk about the baby, and I know it would mean the world to you to be the biological father."<\/p>

You hesitate for a second. "What about you?"<\/p>

He looks at you straight in the eyes and says, "I don't mind, honey. I want to have your<\/i> baby."<\/p>

Your<\/i> baby. "Bren, thank you." You hug him and sweetly kiss his temple.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

"How's my favorite pregnant woman?" asks Brendon.<\/p>

Greta hugs him before hugging you too and leads you into her house. "I'm great! Thank you! What about you?"<\/p>

"Oh, we're so excited!" he responds.<\/p>

"How's the baby?" you ask.<\/p>

"It's doing pretty well. I haven't had any problems with it; the doctor says it's healthy. Everything going well."<\/p>

"And you?" Brendon asks as both of you sit down.<\/p>

Greta heads to the kitchen, where the delicious smells and sounds make the boys hungry. "Well, you know, the pregnancy's hard, but nothing too bad. I get nauseous with any little smell, and it seems like sometimes I don't want to eat anything that's humanly edible. And my back's been hurting recently. Normal things like that."<\/p>

"Gee, Greta, you make us feel guilty," Brendon says for the both of you.<\/p>

"Nah, it's okay. It's not the first time I've been a mother or<\/i> a surrogate mother. I'm totally okay with this."<\/p>

"Well, as long as we have that in writing, it's all okay," he jokes.<\/p>

"Sure will. You guys want to stay for dinner?"<\/p>

"Sure!" you both say.<\/p>

"Great. So what's new? Have you thought of a name yet?"<\/p>

"No," you answer. "We wanted to know if you had an idea."<\/p>

You all stay quiet for a few seconds.<\/p>

"Ooh, what about Olivia?" Brendon says, nearly jumping in his seat.<\/p>

"That's a good one," says Greta. "How 'bout Emily?"<\/p>

You and Brendon gaze at each other. "I like Emily," you agree.<\/p>

"Or also Abigail," she says.<\/p>

You think a little and try to come up with a name of your own. "I think Samantha's nice," you add. "Sammy. Sam," you say, testing out the name variations.<\/p>

Brendon begins to speak softly to himself. "Emily, Emmy, Emm. L, M, N..."<\/p>

You hear his curious comparison between names and letters and repeat after him. "L, M. Ellem. Ellen."<\/p>

"Ooh, Ellen!" says Brendon.<\/p>

"Or Elena," suggests Greta.<\/p>

"I like Elena better," Brendon says.<\/p>

You say it a couple hundred times out loud and agree that you also like Elena better than Ellen.<\/p>

"So, Elena?" Brendon asks you.<\/p>

"Yeah, I guess Elena."<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

"Ryan, look at this!"<\/p>

You walk to where Brendon is standing and look at what he's holding. It's a pink baby romper with the image of a cute, black and white cow sewn onto the middle, and it even comes with a matching beanie. It's adorable, and soft to the touch. You imagine what your baby girl would look like in it, and it makes you aww in your mind. "Take it," you tell Brendon, and he adds it to your cart.<\/p>

Minutes later at the register, your heart fills with joy when you look at your cart and see that you've grabbed nothing but baby clothes, pacifiers, bibs, bottles, diapers, a stroller, a baby car seat, and everything else you could find for your soon-to-be newborn.<\/p>

The girl at the register looks at your mountain of baby supplies and smiles at you. "Is it yours?"<\/p>

"Yeah. Both of us," you tell her proudly, grabbing Brendon by the waist.<\/p>

She keeps smiling as she passes the items over the scanner in front of her. "Congratulations," she says.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

"Okay, Mr. Teddy Bear," Brendon says as he places down the stuffed animal on the bed. "You and I are gonna have a little fun time. Now, stay still."<\/p>

You watch from the door, but he's unaware of it.<\/p>

He holds the bear's legs up as he pulls out a moist baby wipe from its white box. He wipes the animal's behind as if it were a real baby, and then throws the wipe toward the garbage can, missing it by an inch. "Dammit!" he curses. "Sorry, Teddy, you weren't supposed to hear that."<\/p>

You smile wider than you were doing before, but you hold back a giggle.<\/p>

Brendon then grabs a diaper and places part of it under the teddy bear, folding up the rest of it over its crotch. He takes one of the sticky sides and tries to tape it to the diaper, but he accidentally gets it stuck on the fake bear's fur. "Oh… noodles," he complains, watching his language.<\/p>

You sneak in behind him and say, "What are you doing?"<\/p>

He jerks a little and turns his head around. "God, Ross, you startled me! I'm practicing being a daddy. Look," he says, and the bear finally has the diaper properly on.<\/p>

"Yeah, that's impressive. I wanna see you doing that with the actual baby."<\/p>

"Well, it's not like you're a pro, either."<\/p>

"You know what? You're right. You obviously have practice, so you can take care of changing diapers from now on."<\/p>

"No, wait, that's not…" But you cut him off with a kiss.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

You stand next to Greta and grasp her hand while Brendon stands on the other side, letting her do the same with his hand. You're both sweating, but not nearly as much as she is.<\/p>

She's having your baby.<\/p>

"C'mon, you can do it," you whisper.<\/p>

The doctor is standing between Greta's legs, helping her get the baby out. "You're doing great," she encourages. "Give me another push."<\/p>

Greta tightens her whole face and body as she tries her best to push the baby out. The push isn't enough yet, and she gasps for breath, her face red and her muscles hurting.<\/p>

You look at Brendon, who's as tense as you. He looks at you back and bites his lower lip.<\/p>

"You're almost there. Keep going."<\/p>

Greta groans as she begins her new push, and from her vagina you can see a dark and bloody head peeking out. Greta stops pushing and breathes heavily. She lets out a small whine, and you lean down to her and caress her forehead. "Be strong. You're almost there."<\/p>

"Push!" says the doctor.<\/p>

Greta makes a last, mighty effort, and the baby bursts out, relieving her from the tormenting pain. You grin wide as you look at your baby covered in blood and surrounded by the umbilical cord. The doctor unwraps the long, pink cord from her body and wipes the baby with a blue towel. Then you hear the miraculous cry of your newborn.<\/p>

"Greta, you made it!" you say.<\/p>

Brendon still seems to be a little in shock, but he manages to rub Greta's hand with his free one while glancing back and forth between her and the little one.<\/p>

The doctor gives the crying baby to Greta, laying her on her torso. Greta looks down at her, running her thumb across her head, and you and Brendon observe with awe.<\/p>

"Look at our girl," you say.<\/p>

"She's beautiful," Brendon says softly finally after minutes of silence.<\/p>

The doctor offers you two the scissors to cut the umbilical cord, and you insert your fingers into the holes and let Brendon situate his hand over yours. He applies pressure on your fingers, closing the scissors and rupturing the connection between Greta and the baby.<\/p>

Hours later, while Greta sleeps on the hospital bed behind you, Brendon and you contemplate your new baby girl resting peacefully in your arms. The little light you have from a lamp is just enough to see her in the darkness. She's soft and wrinkly and everything you imagined her to be, but never quite with this much amazement.<\/p>

Brendon reaches out from his seat and touches her ear, then her hand covered by mittens. "My Elena," he says, merely a whisper to keep her and Greta from waking up. "I can't believe this is our little piece of heaven, our bundle of joy." He pauses a moment. "I think she has your eyes."<\/p>

"How do you know? She's sleeping, you idiot."<\/p>

"Yeah, I know, but when I first saw her, her eyes were honey brown like yours."<\/p>

"Really?" you ask, flattered by nature's favor.<\/p>

"Well… I think so," he says, giving it a second thought.<\/p>

You look at her and notice her other features. Her skin still looks reddish in some parts, and her ears are a little misshapen. But you know this is normal and that she's perfectly healthy, and you just keep watching and appreciating the tiny human you're carrying.<\/p>

You've waited so long for this moment, saw it so close for nine months, and at last have in your hands what you have desperately longed for. You can’t wait to hear her first words, to walk her to class on her first day of school, to stutter when she asks you where babies come from. But at the same time, you never want her to grow up, and you want her to always retain her smooth and gentle skin and bones and to always be this defenseless and dependent on you.<\/p>

You're eternally grateful for what Greta's done for you.<\/p>

You love your daughter.<\/p>

You love your family.<\/p>

Your family.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

Turns out, she does have your eyes.<\/p>

In fact, as the weeks go by, you think she looks a little bit like you. Some things obviously don't come from your genes, such as her skin, which is darker than yours or Brendon's. And you absolutely adore the tiny birthmark on her leg, which resembles a comma. You assume most of the foreign traits come from the mother. And of course, being born from a gestational surrogacy, she doesn't resemble Greta. She said herself she'd rather not have biological similarities with the baby because she was afraid she'd grow too fond of it. So you got donor eggs, and now your daughter inherited characteristics from a strange woman.<\/p>

But that's okay. You don't mind, as long as she's yours, and you don't mean from your own blood.<\/p>

You love Elena just the way she is. You love to play with her and make her laugh. You often grab her above your head and blow playfully on her belly, and you love that high-pitched giggle she makes.<\/p>

And her smile. When she smiles at you, whether intentionally or not, it's like you love her all over again. Her smile is so pure and innocent, no masks or fake gestures. It's just her being happy, and that makes you happy.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

The appointment with the doctor is going well, according to professional norm. But to you, it’s a bad dream you can’t wake up from. Elena’s crying in your arms, and you would probably pull away if a needle weren’t injected inside her flesh. Since you entered the office, the doctor gave you emotionless instructions for you and the baby. Then he clenched your daughter’s arm, and from then she began to act uneasily. Once the needle entered her sharply, she started to cry.<\/p>

“Ely, don’t cry. It’s okay, daddy’s here,” you try to reassure. But neither your voice nor your consoling strokes are enough to calm her anguish.<\/p>

The doctor fills up a whole tube of blood, and then you have to wait for him to change it and fill up one more.<\/p>

You kiss the back of Elena’s head, trying to serene her as much as you’re trying to serene yourself.<\/p>

The doctor finally releases his grip on Elena, and you shake your lap at a continuous pace to calm her down.<\/p>

All the way from the hospital to your parking space, you pat her back and make gentle shushing sounds. If you weren’t feeling pity for her right now, you’d be really ticked off by her nonstop weeping.<\/p>

As soon as you get to the car, you put Elena in her seat and wiggle a rattle in front of her face. The peculiar noise and flashy colors of the small balls inside the main sphere soothe her crying, and her red face begins to relax.<\/p>

“Pretty, huh? Play with it,” you tell her, handing the toy over to her.<\/p>

As she extends her hand to grab the rattle, her fingers rub your own, and you’re tempted to touch the softness of her skin. She keeps her eyes on the stick with the transparent ball, but her free hand grips your finger as a reflex all babies are born with. You always liked that, but it’s far more beautiful when it comes from your daughter.<\/p>

She lets the rattle fall onto the seat, uninterested in it anymore, and instead goes for your face. Her eyes curiously study your chin, mouth, and her hand rises up to your nose. You get closer so that it’s easier for her to reach. You practically rub your forehead against hers, and her mouth opens, trying to suck on your nose. You pull away after a lick so she won’t get any weird infections—you did<\/i> just come from the doctor, and it wasn’t a pretty experience—but you can’t help but smile and giggle.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

You have a balloon you got from the store the other day, since you thought Elena would like it. It's lost its helium, so now you play with it by grabbing it by the ribbon and bouncing it against your fist. It makes a repetitive bumping sound, missing the beat only occasionally when you miss your hand, but it's still rhythmic.<\/p>

Elena turns to you from her crib, belly upside-down, and she starts to move with the rhythm. She jiggles her body, as if she wanted to jump or fly from her stomach, and she throws her arms and legs in the air.<\/p>

You watch curiously how cute she dances to such a lifeless sound.<\/p>

An idea enters your mind, and you call Brendon to come from wherever he is. You take Elena from her crib, bring along a blanket, and take her to the garage.<\/p>

Brendon arrives soon after. "What is it?"<\/p>

"I want us to play a song for Elena," you tell him.<\/p>

"Huh? Why?"<\/p>

"She's gonna like it! She likes to dance and she looks so adorable when she does."<\/p>

So Brendon sits behind the drum set while you sit on a stool and grab your guitar. You remind Brendon not to get too excited and to play softly, but you're still afraid he won't listen. You begin to play an upbeat song, "Goodbye" by The Garlics, and Brendon starts out soft. Eventually the song gains volume, but it's not so bad.<\/p>

You both watch as Elena rocks from the ground to your playing and Brendon's singing, both wild and energetic. She's dancing and laughing excitedly, and it's really one of the cutest things you've ever seen.<\/p>

When night comes along, you take Elena in your arms and sit on the rocking chair in her room. You sing her a lullaby, and your voice is slightly resonant, harsh and relaxing, like ocean waves crashing down, and it helps her drift asleep. You swing back and forth, just the way her sleepy eyes close midway and open again, hesitating to close completely. You begin to get sleepy yourself, then you realize she's asleep and put her in her wooden crib, body facing up. You stay there for a second and observe her peacefulness as she sleeps like—well, like a baby. She's your little angel.<\/p>

You go to bed with Brendon and fall into a deep sleep.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

You check on Elena the next morning. You go into her room and walk toward the crib where she's still sleeping. You watch her sleep and lightly caress her dark-haired head. After a second your sleepy senses start to process more carefully every image, every touch. Elena’s rather cold, you can’t deny it, and her skin is pale instead of her light caramel skin. Connecting the dots, you also realize she's awfully still, and you begin to notice that she's not moving at all. Her chest isn't rising, and she's not breathing.<\/p>

You call out for Brendon, and he comes into the room. He stands next to you, unknowing of what intrigues you. He looks at your face and immediately knows that something’s very wrong. He puts it all in context, and he soon gets caught up with the scene.<\/p>

A sole tear falls from your eye, fast and thick.<\/p>

Brendon swallows so hard it’s audible, evidence of a knot in his throat.<\/p>

Neither of you say a word. The only sounds are the occasional weeps from either of you. Your eyes are fixed on your daughter, and you command them to change reality and see what you want them to see. But they never do. You can't take it anymore and cage Brendon in your arms as he returns the gesture.<\/p>

"She's dead!" you yell, your voice subdued from hiding your face in his shoulder.<\/p>

Brendon shakes his head desperately, begging you to not say that.<\/p>

You move back and clutch his upper arms. "She's dead, dammit! She was too good to be true!" you scream in his face, then push him off.<\/p>

"God, Ryan, it hurts me, too!" he yells back.<\/p>

You take Elena from her crib and put her head on your shoulder. You breathe in her scent, and it's just too goddamn painful to know she's not there anymore. You sit on the floor and against the wall, rocking back and forth, lulling a dead body.<\/p>

Brendon sits by you and leans on you, eyes burning with salt.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

SIDS.<\/p>

She didn't choke, she didn't suffer. She just stopped breathing for no perfectly good reason. The fact that it was a peaceful crib death relieves a fragment of your pain, but knowing that there is no valid explanation for the tragedy frustrates and enrages you.<\/p>

But neither good news nor bad news can make up for Elena's death. You want her back in your arms, laughing and playing, crying and calling for you.<\/p>

But she's gone and the only thing you can do is wish a Heaven exists, even though it's hard to do so after what just took place. But you hope that there's a God, and that baby Elena is happy in Paradise. After all, she was<\/i> your angel.<\/p>

All you wanted was a family to love and love you back. Brendon is the foundation, and he still remains after the house fell apart, after you fell apart. Building it up again seems exhausting and pointless to you right now. How could you ever want another child, when that child will never be Elena?<\/p>

It's hard to stand back up when your world has crumbled down, but you struggle enough to find that deep inside you, a little light of hope still glimmers and something tells you that you'll make it, that things will turn out for the best, and that your life has only come to a sharp pause—a comma rather than a final period.<\/p><\/a>

 <\/p>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:6624","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/6624.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=6624"}}],"title":"Mothersoccer","published":"2010-07-12T05:01:31Z","updated":"2010-07-14T03:26:22Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}}],"content":"Title:<\/strong> Mothersoccer
Author: <\/strong><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/strong>PG
Warning:<\/strong> Soccer\/football
Pairing:<\/strong> Rydon
POV: <\/strong>First, Ryan's
Summary: <\/strong>Whenever he's in the living room watching a bunch of guys kicking the ball back and forth and back and forth, I usually stay in the room or go out. But hearing or seeing the game on doesn't bother me as much as Brendon himself.<\/em>
Disclaimer: <\/strong>Fake, not real, never happened. The story is mine, not the boys or anything else mentioned.
Beta:<\/strong> <\/a>youignorantfool<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Author Notes:<\/strong> I'm very sorry if this story sucks. Spain ftw literally.



 <\/div>
 <\/div>

It's fair to say that Brendon has a habit of reaching a high level of annoyance. But not always do I want to choke him as much as I do right now.<\/p>

Lately he's had this need to stay glued to the TV set for a couple of hours, and it's all because of the goddamn World Cup that started exactly one month ago. Whenever he's in the living room watching a bunch of guys kicking the ball back and forth and back and forth, I usually stay in the room or go out. But hearing or seeing the game on doesn't bother me as much as Brendon himself. He talks and complains to the TV as if the players could hear him, which is not so bad, I guess. But sometimes he starts talking to me and asking, "Did you see that?!" or "Was that fucked up or what? I almost feel sorry for the English team. Nah, not really. U.S.A.! U.S.A.!"<\/p>

He also insists that I call it 'football' instead of 'soccer,' and when there's a Latin country playing, he likes to call it 'futbol,' stressing the word maybe a little too much. But I don't think there's anything more obnoxious than the freaking vuvuzela app he found for his iPhone just recently. That fucking buzzing sound makes me want to throw the damn phone to the freaking wall. But I've put up with it and every little thing Brendon does because I've been told that that's what you have to do when you love someone. And, unfortunately, I love Brendon. It's times like these when I'm not so sure whether that applies the other way around.<\/p>

This Sunday morning would be like any other, except it's not, because now I'm sitting here in front of the TV at 11:30 AM, waiting for Brendon to join in to watch the game. But I'm not watching it because it's the final—I don't even want to be here. I'm watching it because Brendon wanted me so badly to understand his passion and to spend quality time with him. Well, since I'm such a loving boyfriend, I conceded. Okay, there is also a bet involved, which is pretty much the only thing I'm looking forward to.<\/p>

I skim through the channels and find the one with the soccer game. The monotonous tone of the guys speaking stands out from the muffled sounds of the stadium, and it almost feels as though I'm watching golf. Soon the quietness dies and scares the hell out of me when I hear a loud noise somewhere behind me that sounds like death getting raped. I turn around startled and see Brendon with a real life vuvuzela.<\/p>

"Where in hell did you get that?!"<\/p>

"I bought it!" he says, followed by more buzzing.<\/p>

He comes and sits next to me, a wide grin on his face. Then he takes the remote from the table and changes the channel to a Spanish-speaking one.<\/p>

"Why did you change it?"<\/p>

"This one’s better! These guys have more energy!"<\/p>

And it makes sense, because to Brendon, being surrounded by energy is more important than understanding what is actually being said. Besides, he's right. These men are much more into it. They're also much louder, and the background is louder and clearer, too.<\/p>

The game starts, and Brendon gets more enthusiastic, yelling, "Go Netherlands! Woo!"<\/p>

I merely watch, arms crossed and body slouched. There is nothing more exciting than watching men run around with a ball and eternally waiting for someone to score. At least there's beer, and there's really no further description necessary when I say there's beer.<\/p>

It's half-time, and no one has scored.<\/p>

"Don't worry, Ry, we'll win. You'll see."<\/p>

"Really? Because Spain almost scored several times. I've got this."<\/p>

"Oh, yeah? You wanna bet?"<\/p>

"Brendon, we're already betting."<\/p>

"Oh, yeah."<\/p>

Brendon goes to the bathroom while I wait. I take a sip from my beer before noticing the vuvuzela. If I get rid of it, Brendon will obviously know it was me. But then again, it's better to ask for forgiveness than for permission. I take the Devil's trumpet and get up. My first thought is to throw it out, so I walk toward the door. For some weird reason, I remember a kink I saw in Cyanide and Happiness, and I change my mind. Maybe having this thing around for a while won't hurt.<\/p>

I sit back down quickly before Brendon sees me and wait for the game to start again. We watch for the rest of the game, and the score is still 0-0. I can tell that Brendon is tired, and I'm not all that overjoyed either. Fifteen minutes pass, and still nothing. But then, just minutes before they declare the end of it, something happens. I see it so close, and I think I dig my nails all the way into Brendon's thigh when Spain scores one point.<\/p>

"Oh shit, haha! Yes! Goal! Yes! Haha, you so lost, dude! I won! Yeah!"<\/p>

Brendon looks away from me, and I know he's mad—well, not really, considering it's Brendon.<\/p>

"Dude, c'mon, let's make you pretty."<\/p>

"No, wait, the game isn't over yet. We've got a few minutes left."<\/p>

"Okay, whatever you say," I say sarcastically, knowing this bet is all mine.<\/p>

I keep watching for the minutes remaining, eating my nails and praying to God that this is over already. I laugh nervously every time the Spaniards take the ball from Holland, and soon enough, my relief comes fully.<\/p>

I look at Brendon, who looks back at me, and I see that pout he loves to play on me.<\/p>

"Oh, no, that ain't working this time," I tell him. This is gonna be sweet.<\/p>

*!*<\/p>

"Ohmyshitmothersuckerahh!!!" Brendon yells, and he laughs from the pain.<\/p>

I smile because I'm evil.<\/p>

And that was the day I waxed Brendon's legs.


A\/N: <\/strong>I didn't know how to describe the vuvuzela sound, so I googled "vuvuzela sounds like" and this is what came up: link<\/a>
And the C&H reference is here: link<\/a>
Yay for Spain! n_n<\/p><\/a>

 <\/p><\/div>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:6323","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/6323.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=6323"}}],"title":"Love,","published":"2010-06-13T22:18:14Z","updated":"2012-12-01T23:00:02Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"cheating"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}}],"content":"Title: <\/strong>Love,
Author: <\/b>idk, I plagiarized.. Of course I'm the author, <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/b>PG, practically G
Pairing: <\/b>Rydon
POV: <\/b>First, Ryan's
Summary:<\/b> Ryan writes a letter to Brendon.
Disclaimer: <\/strong>No matter how hard I looked, I could not find any of the boys on Ebay. So, no, I do not own anything or anyone, except for the story, which is mine, mine, mine. Also, this is fake, not real, a bunch of baloney.
Beta: <\/b>\"[info]\"<\/a>youignorantfool<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Author Notes: <\/strong>At the end



Dear Brendon,<\/p>

The day I met you I knew you were special. There was something in you that captivated me from the start. Effortlessly and not surprisingly, I fell in love with you in no time. I don’t know if it was your laugh or your glasses or your voice or your charming immaturity, but something made it impossible for me to stay away from you if I tried. Your satiable love and tenderness never failed to make my life much easier and more desirable. Your hot kiss and touch boiled my blood to such a degree that saturated me with fervor. You were the perfect combination of soul and flesh—a spirit designed by God and a body molded by the Devil. I loved you from feet to head, inside and out, back and forth. I loved you like I never loved anyone.<\/p>

I remember one night when everything was still an illusion of kids in love and our eyes shone with more intensity than the stars. We dreamed together and shared the most absurd and simple things, which was back then our favorite pastime. In our idle chat I asked you what you would give me if you could get anything in the universe. You said you would tear out your chest and put your heart in a little, golden box so that I could never doubt that your heart was always with me. After several giggles and questions with no purpose, you asked me what it was I liked the most about you. I answered that I didn’t know, since even your imperfections were perfect to me. You turned to me and the smile you gave me assured me that what I had said was true.<\/p>

Time passed, and I realized that my answer wasn’t so true after all, and that something I didn’t find so perfect about you was your infidelity. Yes, you cheated on me, and obviously it hurt. You put pause to our love and got involved with that person without caring about my feelings. You know full well who I’m talking about, so don’t you deny it. After I found out, my soul was shattered, and I felt a profound resentment consuming my blood. I didn’t know what to do. I took the time to think and I reached the conclusion that it was best to leave you. Today I’m leaving, but I’m taking you with me. Despite your lies, I can’t help what I feel for you. I love you. Your name is written in my heart.<\/p>

And my name is written on five different walls of your house, each one made with distinct colors and styles. I didn’t cut my veins, but I did ruin your sofas with a kitchen knife. You can thank me later for giving your electric guitar a better rocker style after smashing it against the ground. You never listened to me when I told you Wii’s were dangerous if you didn’t use the security strap, so I proved it to you by throwing a controller against the plasma TV in the living room. And if you get ants it’s because I spilled all over the house everything liquid I could find in your refrigerator.<\/p>

Well, I’m leaving now. I hope you have a nice life, and that you don’t get eaten by your own remorse for being a liar, lout, jerk, and scoundrel, you two-legged rat. Be a good boy and remember me.<\/p>

Love,<\/p>

Ryan



A\/N:<\/strong> Inspired by the song "Before He Cheats" by Carrie Underwood. Thanks to the Y!A community for suggesting titles for this fic, though I came up with my own ultimately =]<\/p><\/a>\ufeff"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:6096","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/6096.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=6096"}}],"title":"Youthful Night","published":"2010-06-13T21:44:36Z","updated":"2010-07-07T20:10:06Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}}],"content":"

Title:<\/strong> Youthful Night
Author:<\/strong> <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating:<\/strong> G (PG at the most)
Pairing:<\/strong> Rydon
POV:<\/strong> First, Ryan's
Summary:<\/strong> Grocery shopping at night. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
Disclaimer:<\/strong> This isn't real. I don't own them. The story's mine, so don't steal it or I'll sue you!
Beta:<\/strong> <\/a>onthewindowpane<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Author Notes:<\/strong> Pay attention to \"Pairing\" and \"POV.\"<\/p>


 <\/p>

Stepping back into the youthful night draws me away from the intense white lights that illuminate the spacious supermarket behind me. Now my view consists of a navy blue sky and street lamps all across the parking lot dispersing feeble lights directly toward the ground. I have also switched to an atmosphere that has a more natural type of coolness that comes mostly as a zephyr blowing on my face and bare arms, the air smelling fresh as I breathe it in. The sun has recently sunk beneath the earth, and along with it many people have abandoned the streets to stay at their respective homes.<\/p>

Walking through this half-deserted parking lot with nothing more on my hands than a single plastic bag with my newly purchased items in it, I direct myself to my vehicle parked a few empty spaces away from the store entrance. I find my car and slide my fingers into my pocket to retrieve the keys that unlock the door. As soon as I am seated in front of the wheel, I pull the door shut on my left and extend my arm the opposite side to leave my bag on the passenger seat.<\/p>

The moment I turn to my right, I am awfully disconcerted to find a very strange surprise inside my car. Behind the passenger seat, an intruder sleeps, leaning his head on the tinted window. I ponder hastily without capacity to process much logic, and wonder what could have driven such an irreverent young man, not much older or younger than I, to invade my personal property in this manner. Surely he did not intend to thieve from me, for this would make him an unconventional and inefficient criminal—and stupid, I need not say. But if not a criminal, who enters unannounced to automobiles pertaining to complete strangers? Who has the bravery necessary to make use of someone else's belongings and dream so restfully as if having such clean conscience and yet not a bit of respect or consideration?<\/p>

These questions flash in and out of my mind, and I cannot think of anything more to do other than yell at the boy for his unscrupulousness. But the more I look at this man, the more I am drawn to his mere and unmoving image. His whole anatomy, illumed only by a glow from the dim lights and the moon, possesses a beguiling beauty adequate in a male. From his lean structure to the dark scraps of hair fallen upon his face, he has something quite attractive and impossible to resist. Not to mention his sleep helps his visage acquire an incredibly endearing expression.<\/p>

Distracted, I even forget for a moment what my intentions were. But then I remember the circumstances presented, change my mind, and instead sit there looking at the mysterious person in my rear seat and think of the possibilities. It is better to act with rationality to an odd situation like this one.<\/p>

My attempts at drawing an inference tell me that perhaps this stranger wanders the streets and has trouble finding a warm roof at night. Perhaps he is only hoping to get some rest in my car instead of lying on cold cement. I take a closer look at him, and his clean and decent aspect contradicts my thought. Or, maybe he is new to this type of life.<\/p>

If shelter is what he needs, I would be a Good Samaritan to help him. I could offer him my house—much better than my car—for a night or so. I am certain he would appreciate even just one night of a comfortable bed and a proper dinner and breakfast. And I would treat myself with not only the satisfaction of helping a fellow citizen, but with the presence of an individual so pleasing to the eye.<\/p>

But what if he is not an innocent, helpless boy? For all I know, he could be mentally sick. Perhaps by waking him up he will act violently and injure me. I pray I do not have in front of me a crazy man ready to attack as soon as he gains consciousness, for removing him from my vehicle would be a real challenge. I am not willing to confront that kind of trouble.<\/p>

I ponder even more. What if he is intoxicated? I test my hypothesis by awkwardly pushing myself to the back seat to get closer to the sleeping man. I try to identify any smell of alcohol, but I seem to find none. All I achieve is to get significantly close to this figure that has magnetized my eyes to it from the beginning, and now I have carved in my memory not only his unforgettable face but his unforgettable scent as well. I am so near to him that the scarf hanging from my neck brushes against his uncovered arm. Afraid to interrupt his sleep, I push myself back into my driver seat, never taking off my sight from him.<\/p>

It is difficult to believe that a person with such a sweet face would cause any harm to anyone. Relieved and re-encouraged by this idea, I decide that it is best to wake the boy up. Everything will be explained, and I am sure that there will be a very reasonable and simple explanation for his being inside my car.<\/p>

I wish neither to be rude nor to create an embarrassing scene between the two of us, so I mince what I should say before I awake the man from his deep sleep. I glance around my car as I consider my words carefully; maybe I should ask who he is, how he managed to get inside, or why he would do such a thing. However, soon I come to realize that something about my car looks amiss. I notice that the cup holder has a thermo flask I do not recognize. At the other end of the windshield there is a sheet of blue paper with black ink that is absolutely not mine either. The truth strikes my head as I learn that I have mistaken this vehicle as mine. Looking out the window to my right, I locate my car parked right next to this one, empty as it should be.<\/p>

I take back the plastic bag I had placed on the passenger seat and open the door as cautiously as possible, closing it later not as carefully due to the required slam. I walk to the other side of the car where mine awaits me, and I get inside. I look around, just in case.<\/p>

My luck remained faithful to me; it was dark and solitary outside, and the driver of the car never arrived. No one but I is aware of the fool I made of myself. Still, I do not know whether I should be thankful or disappointed that the man inside the car never woke up to see me and will never know of my embarrassing mistake, of my curiosity and prying, of my existence itself.<\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:5340","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/5340.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=5340"}}],"title":"Like Crystal","published":"2010-04-05T04:25:10Z","updated":"2010-06-07T18:08:27Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"medical condition"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"cheating"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"angst"}}],"content":"

Title: <\/b>Like Crystal
Author: <\/b><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/b>PG-13
Pairing: <\/b>Rydon
POV: <\/b>Third
Summary:<\/b> Brendon and Ryan are a happy, loving couple. Really, they are! Well, except…
Disclaimer: <\/b>This is all fiction. I don’t own the boys or anyone for that matter. The only thing mine is the story.
Beta: <\/b><\/a>youignorantfool<\/b><\/a><\/span> (I'm running out of betas, so if you're interested, let me know.)<\/u>
Author Notes: <\/b>You guys like sappy, right? Okay, thank you. A few things here and there are taken from the song “Vestido Azul” by LODVG, including the title. It’s almost the 12th<\/sup>, so I guess I should say happy birthday to someone, but… I don’t know. I’m ambivalent.


 <\/p>

                The sun waves, burning as they always were in the middle of June, stimulated the sweat on Brendon’s skin that covered him for running at a great speed. The weariness, the difficulty of running on the sand, and the discomfort of the sweat and heat didn’t stop him, for his joy was enough to keep him lively. When he was caught up to and knocked over, Ryan’s weight that fell on him and the bruise of falling on the sand hurt him slightly. But instead of whining, Brendon and Ryan laughed out loud one under the other.<\/span><\/p>

                Both of them loved the beach. The sun and the ocean were perfect for them, and even more when enjoying them together. But the charms of the sea did not only bring them fun, but also gave them a dreamy night.<\/span><\/p>

                Holding hands, Brendon and Ryan observed the moon and the stars. Little time was needed now for Brendon to fall asleep after hours of physical activity. Ryan had been, like it was usual, more still, so his fatigue was not as great. When turning his head and seeing Brendon’s eyes so sleepy and sweet, it inspired Ryan to turn his body and rest his hand on his chest to apply a loving kiss on his mouth. Brendon smiled weakly to him at the same time that he closed his eyes, ready to fall into a deep sleep with the help of the waves that lulled him.<\/span><\/p>

                “Aren’t you cold?” asked Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

                “Not if you hug me,” answered Brendon without looking.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan cuddled up to his shoulder and acted as he had insinuated. Then he gave him another kiss, this time on his jaw and a little more open, and Brendon tasted like saltwater. “I love you. A lot,” he whispered.<\/span><\/p>

                “I love you, too.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

                Brendon did not ask for much. Even though life had not always given him the best, he claimed to know happiness. And how was he not supposed to know it, having by his side such a great partner? To Brendon, he was his happiness. Ryan was the love of his life. Nobody compared, and nobody would replace him. He was worth everything, even his family’s rejection for being homosexual. They did not understand that having a partner of the opposite sex was not necessary to love, and boy did he know it.<\/span><\/p>

                What was beautiful was that Ryan felt the same way. Brendon was his piece of heaven, his wingless angel, his eternal love. The love they felt for one another was powerful, so much that the dependency between them was equally admirable and pitiful. But they loved each other, and they were happy.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon did not have much to ask for other than to have Ryan always in his life.<\/span><\/p>

 ~~~<\/p>

                Brendon knows that his jealousy has no excuse. Those girls that go out with him are not going to take him from him. He’s not interested. They barely met and they’re nothing to worry about. For some reason, Brendon feels they get too close to him. Perhaps how attractive they are make him unnecessarily nervous every time Ryan laughs with them or greets them with a kiss. He feels foolish for taking Ryan’s hand so that he won’t leave. But he can’t help the intuition.<\/span><\/p>

 ~~~<\/p>

                “Ryan, do you love me?” asks Brendon somewhat insecure.<\/span><\/p>

                “But of course! What kind of question is that? I love you like crazy,” Ryan answers him smiling. He turns off the light in the room and lies down next to Brendon under the covers.<\/span><\/p>

                A few seconds afterward, Brendon is still intrigued. “Then you would never cheat on me, right?”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan turns to look at him and smiles again. “No. Why do you ask? Brendon, I don’t like it when you start with this.”<\/span><\/p>

                “I’m not starting with anything. I just want to make sure that you wouldn’t cheat on me with anyone.” Brendon lies on his side to see Ryan directly. “There’s never been anyone else?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Enough!” he replies upset. “Brendon, I told you I love you, right? Stop asking. There’s never been anyone else, okay?” He turns over so that his back is turned to Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

                “Okay. I believe you.” He gives him a kiss on the neck since giving it to him on the mouth would be kind of hard from his position. Then he lays facing up on his pillow and proceeds to sleep.<\/span><\/p>

 ~~~<\/p>

                With the passage of time, Brendon notices that Ryan is not the same. He’s paying less and less attention every time and becomes more nervous without reason. Ryan denies it once and once more, but Brendon is sure that he’s going out with someone else.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon’s preoccupation is evident and Ryan takes notice of it. That’s why sometimes he asks questions about things he doesn’t care about. That’s why sometimes he takes him to places that bore him. That’s why sometimes he turns off his phone at night. Nevertheless, Brendon notices when he doesn’t listen, or isn’t in a good mood, or doesn’t answer some calls. His attitude hurts him, and so do the lies that from miles away he can distinguish. One after the other Brendon gets tired of hearing them.<\/span><\/p>

 ~~~<\/p>

                It’s hard. It’s hard to arrive at the beach at a time when many are asleep but you know you won’t be able to sleep that night. It is not easy at all for Brendon to park a few yards away from Ryan’s car and see him with a woman. Sitting outside on the front of the car, they don’t imagine that Brendon is spying on them in the dark and can barely see them kissing. Brendon’s mind freezes, and he can feel his stomach is sick. Immediately his eyes begin to burn with heavy, acidic tears. And even though he wants to, he can’t take away his eyes from his boyfriend and his lover. When he sees that their chafing becomes more ardent, he decides he can take it no longer and gets out of there.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

                The lights are off completely, and the silence feeds Brendon’s thoughts and melancholy. From his side of the bed, he yearns for sleep to find him. But the empty space by his side and the clock that drives him to despair minute by minute are torturing; and the image so vivid in his memory follows him, whether it be with eyes open or closed; and his heart beats too uncontrollably to be relaxed enough to fall asleep.<\/span><\/p>

                After what seems like hours and hours, noises in the living room announce that Ryan has arrived. Brendon turns over so that Ryan won’t see his face when he enters the room. When the door opens and his presence is made present, Brendon takes out of nowhere the courage to ask Ryan for an explanation. He turns his whole body around, but upon seeing Ryan, both become immobile, and Brendon’s intrepidity is replaced with hurt, shame, and cowardice. Once again he hides in the position he had adopted while Ryan quietly gets in bed next to him.<\/span><\/p>

                Neither of them says anything. Neither closes his eyes to make an effort to fall asleep. And while Brendon swallows the restlessness of his tragedy, Ryan fills with remorse.<\/span><\/p>

~~~ <\/p>

                “It’s just… I honestly don’t know if I can go on with this,” Ryan says. His hands are sweating, and his head is spinning.<\/span><\/p>

                “Don’t say that, please,” she responds.<\/span><\/p>

                “But it’s the right thing. I can’t take this guilt anymore. And I think that my destiny is with him. I can’t do this to him.” His voice isn’t so shaky, but his eyes are beginning to redden.<\/span><\/p>

                “Ryan, don’t leave me.”<\/span><\/p>

                “But I love him.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Are you sure about that?”<\/span><\/p>

                The question frustrates him, and without wanting to answer it, he closes his eyes and covers his face with both hands. His partner takes him fondly by the hair and kisses his temple. She leans on his shoulder, doubting about how many more times she will see him again. She doesn’t like to think that there might not be another one, and that’s why she kisses him like there is no tomorrow. Ryan doesn’t know if her endearment relieves or worsens his conscience.<\/span>

 <\/p>

                It’s that same night that Brendon goes out. Ryan isn’t home, and there’s no need to be a foreteller to know where he is. So Brendon decides to ease his grief at a bar.<\/span><\/p>

                In his drunkenness, he speaks out loud to himself and cries alone. Momentarily he is tempted to leave with someone else, but not even the alcohol convinces him to give Ryan a taste of his own medicine. Sometimes he takes out his phone to call him and tell him that he loves him, although he never does. He only drinks and thinks about what Ryan is surely doing this precise moment.<\/span><\/p>

                When the bartender notices he is so devastated and with no sign of putting down the bottle, he suggests that he stop drinking so much. Brendon takes this as an insult and tells the bartender brusquely not to get in his business. He loses so much control that he is forced to exit the bar.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon has no other option but to go back home. Without thinking about it, he gets inside his car and drives to his house. He doesn’t think Ryan is there yet, and truthfully he’s not sure if he wants him there. If he’s not home, he won’t have to face him drunk. However, if he’s not there, he’ll know that his little girlfriend is pleasing him somewhere else. Either way, what does it matter? Ryan is unfaithful; whatever happens in the next couple of hours is the least to worry about.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

                When Ryan says goodbye to his lover without reaching any sort of conclusion, the sky receives him with an intense and wild rain. He raises his jacket to his head to cover it and gets in the car.<\/span><\/p>

                When driving, he does so cautiously, for the hard rain at night is threatening. For that same reason, he doesn’t want to answer his phone either, which is ringing in his pants. He takes it out anyway to check the source of the call and is surprised to find that it isn’t Brendon. He cannot think of anyone else who could be calling him at this time, so he answers the call just in case it’s an emergency.<\/span><\/p>

                It is.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

                Ryan enters the hospital as fast as the lightning from outside. In the waiting room, he trembles in his seat while he waits, impatient, for the doctor to bring him news. When a man dressed in white and sky blue approaches him, Ryan instantly gets on his feet as he gets goose bumps. He almost tells the doctor that he doesn’t want to hear what he was to say and starts crying in the middle of the room, imploring Heaven for things to be different.<\/span><\/p>

                The doctor tells him that Brendon is in very bad conditions. He says that he suffered injuries in nearly his whole body, and that his legs are pretty much useless. It’s hard to tell whether he will be able to walk in the future.<\/span><\/p>

                Inside Brendon’s room, Ryan’s heart sinks when he sees him laying on the stretcher with his face so ill-treated. Even in his sleep he looks in pain. The bruises hurt even Ryan. He gets closer and examines him with his eyes. Then he kneels down next to him and takes his hand. From up close, the hospital smell is dispelled by Brendon’s liquor stench. It reminds Ryan that he desperately needs a drink.<\/span><\/p>

                “Forgive me, Brendon.”<\/span><\/p>

~~~ <\/p>

                “Brendon, guess what!” says Ryan with great optimism.<\/span><\/p>

                “What’s up?” asks Brendon from his wheelchair. He doesn’t seem to share Ryan’s good mood. He never does anymore.<\/span><\/p>

                “The doctors say there’s the possibility that you’ll recover! You’re gonna walk again!”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon smiles at him for a moment. Ryan missed that smile. “It’s possible, but not for sure,” Brendon says almost as a question.<\/span><\/p>

                “Well, technically it’s not for sure, but I know it will happen. I have faith in you and in destiny.” Ryan walks toward Brendon and leans forward to kiss him with desire. “You’ll see that everything will be back to normal. You don’t know how much I love you.”<\/span><\/p>

 ~~~<\/p>

                Brendon is sitting on the bed, and Ryan is leaning on the wall opposite to him. The two of them are looking down, but Ryan is the one that doesn’t look at him in the eyes very often when speaking to him.<\/span><\/p>

                “How can you go on with this? Don’t you ever change?”<\/span><\/p>

                “I know, I know.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Then what? You’re gonna be like this for the rest of your life? I’m not willing to put up with your little adventures.”<\/span><\/p>

                “I know, Brendon! I’m sorry!”<\/span><\/p>

                “No, you’ve already apologized too many times. No more. You sleep with one or with many and you expect me to forgive you every time.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Yes, I’ve cheated on you many times, but I won’t do it again.” Ryan gets close to him and kneels down in front of him. “I promise you that this time I’m gonna change. I’ve told you many other times, but this time it’s over for sure.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon shakes his head and discards Ryan’s false promises. “Why continue? I don’t want to anymore.”<\/span><\/p>

                “No! No, Brendon, I love you! Give me one more chance! The last one, I promise! Don’t leave me, please!” Ryan begs him from his knees with tears in his eyes. When seeing that Brendon won’t answer him, he gets up from the ground and starts walking aimlessly through the room. “Say something! Say yes!”<\/span><\/p>

                “How do you expect me to say yes if you keep sleeping with God knows who?!”<\/span><\/p>

                “But I won’t do it anymore! Brendon, I can’t live without you! I’ll do anything! Don’t do this to me!”<\/span><\/p>

                “Ryan, you know what?! You’re such a…!” Brendon makes the effort to get up from the bed, but his legs can’t take it, and he falls to the ground. Ryan right away helps him get back on the bed. By then, Brendon is crying. “I can’t anymore.”<\/span><\/p>

 ~~~<\/p>

                As soon as Ryan opens the door to his house, a tremendous silence welcomes him. He also feels a chill on his body that could have been just the wind when he closed the door. He leaves his keys on the table and enters the room to look for Brendon. He’s not there, and Ryan thinks it’s extremely strange. “Brendon?!” he yells to find him, but there’s no answer.<\/span><\/p>

                It’s not until he enters the bathroom that he finds the horrific image of Brendon sitting on the floor covered in blood. Ryan covers his mouth and runs out of breath when he sees Brendon dead with a broken wine glass on his hand. His cries are echoed in the bathroom walls, and his tears shower his cheeks. He doesn’t do anything but cry and slide down the wall to sit in front of his loved one’s cadaver. He can’t take his eyes off his face.<\/span><\/p>

                From the ground, he soon notices the corner of a sheet of paper that is on the sink. When Ryan unfolds it, he finds that it is a suicide letter. He reads it and, as if all this wasn’t bad enough already, it kills his heart even more. He groans to himself with an enormous fury and pain. He puts the letter down, and with fear he approaches Brendon to kiss him uncontrollably as if his kisses could bring his soul back into his body. He asks him to forgive him, to come back, and tells him that he loves him more than anything in this world.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Ryan,<\/i><\/p>

I’m tired of living like this. I’m tired of all these false hopes and continuous let downs. I know I’m taking the easy way out, but I don’t care about anything anymore, and I have no strength to keep trying. I hope God can forgive me, and I hope He can forgive your blatancies. You’re a stupid jerk for doing what you did to me. But despite your lies, I can’t help loving you insanely. Dammit, Ryan, you are the love of my life. I love you!<\/i><\/p>

As a last favor, I want you to give me a kiss, one for goodbye in which you leave me the love you feel for me, if it exists. And if there is, unfortunately not even that could nor will it ever change you. And now that I’m leaving, we’ll be forced to end this relationship that was never going to work. It’s over. With my blood I write this ending.<\/i><\/p>

Forever goodbye,<\/i><\/p>

Brendon.<\/i><\/p><\/a>

 <\/p>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:5067","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/5067.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=5067"}}],"title":"'I Love it' is More Precise (2\/2)","published":"2010-02-13T06:37:39Z","updated":"2010-07-07T04:07:37Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"smut"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"school"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"other bands\/characters"}}],"content":"Title: <\/strong>'I Love it' is More Precise
Author: <\/strong><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/strong>PG-13
Pairing: <\/strong>Rydon
POV: <\/strong>Third
IMPORTANT: <\/span><\/strong>This is a sequel to "I Love You--or Something Like That<\/a>." You must read the first part before you read this fic.
Summary: <\/strong>Anything can happen when there's pain and anger involved.
Disclaimer: <\/strong>This is fictional. I do not own anything, except for the story.
Beta: <\/strong>Janette (<\/a>o_melody_nelson<\/b><\/a><\/span>  couldn't do it this time =( *sad face*)
Author Notes: <\/strong>I'm so, so, so sorry this took me FOREVER to write. I had a tough time coming up with a plot, and I had a problem with my beta, and I'm super super busy. But you asked for it, and it's finally DONE! So hurry up and read to find out what happens!




                Stop loving Ryan was something Brendon couldn’t force himself to do, no matter how hard he tried. Anywhere, anytime, anyhow, he would always end up dreaming of the boy that stole his heart. But every time, he would try to get stuck in his mind that Ryan was the worst person in the world and that he would make him pay. He hated, hated, hated<\/i> Ryan. But then, he didn’t. More than Ryan, Brendon hated himself for loving Ryan. The intense pain he felt every time he fantasized with Ryan made him curse at himself for being so weak and putting himself through that kind of hurt. And sometimes, when he remembered that day when he was under his skin and the smell and feel of Ryan made him tremble, he would dig his nails into his skin until it was as red as the blood he knew was shedding inside him. But he wanted to bleed and cry no more, and he thought that rage could free him from the pain. And that rage led to vengeance, which he thought would make him feel better as well.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

                Alone in the middle of the day, the quietness and stillness bothered Ryan. He thought the boredom might kill him. He thanked God when he heard the doorbell ring, freeing him a bit from his torture.<\/span><\/p>

                It wasn’t until he opened the door that he realized a worse kind of torture was waiting outside his house. With eyes widely open, Ryan looked at Brendon in front of him. He wanted to shut the door right that instant, but Brendon made his way inside without invitation.<\/span><\/p>

                It brought Brendon an uncomfortable nostalgia to step inside the house he had used to spend much time in, where the memories hung on the walls and hovered in the air. The sheer scent of the house was enough to make him choke on the past. But even with the melancholy of bad memories and of good memories blemished with the evils of treachery, he found strength within himself to not run away from the place.<\/span><\/p>

                “What are you doing here?” Ryan asked in a way that showed his distress.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon gave no reply, orally or physically. He maintained the blank expression he had worn from the beginning. He walked forward, forcing Ryan to walk backward, and pushed the door behind him.<\/span><\/p>

                “Can’t you hear me? What are you doing here?” Ryan insisted.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon let a smirk emerge on his face. “Don’t pretend you don’t want me here.”<\/span><\/p>

                “I… Just leave, okay? We shouldn’t be together.”<\/span><\/p>

                Without warning, Brendon grabbed his shirt with one arm on top of the other and raised his arms to take it off.<\/span><\/p>

                “Oh, no. We’re not doing this,” Ryan said, shaking his palms and head to Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

                But Brendon took one of those palms and placed it on his warm, bare chest. Ryan’s eyes fell on it, and he couldn’t help stare at his nipples. As he felt Brendon’s heartbeat, his own began to race.<\/span><\/p>

                “I want to feel yours,” Brendon said. He reached for Ryan’s shirt to pull it off, but Ryan pulled it down.<\/span><\/p>

                “No! This is a bad idea.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon kept pulling up with both hands and struggling against Ryan’s until he managed to remove the shirt. And before Ryan could push him off, Brendon ran his hands across the boy’s chest, weakening Ryan’s ability to use reason instead of feeling.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon clasped Ryan’s waistband, and already Ryan could feel himself harden. He was pulled to the couch, and Brendon let him sit on top with a knee on each side of him. Ryan dug his face in between his head and his shoulder. He used his mouth to take in his flesh like a shipwrecked sailor would devour a banquet.<\/span><\/p>

                Now Brendon’s brain was the one to debilitate. The kisses and the hickies and the lack of full clothing were much too irresistible to his senses. He wanted to push him away at the same time that he wanted to undress and get inside him. But Brendon told himself that he was not supposed to fall. He told himself that he had a purpose, and he was not going to please the selfish boy by falling to him. Still, he allowed himself riskily to caress Ryan’s shoulder as a last loving action toward him before secretly waving his hand as a signal.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan was meanwhile losing himself in Brendon. His hands, sweaty and shaky, found the zipper that Ryan loved to unzip. Just as he pulled down his way to happiness, a voice pulled him down from cloud nine. “Oh, no, you’re not!”<\/span><\/p>

                His happy hands were pulled behind his back. A strap of duct tape painfully tied up his wrists, and suddenly everything was wrong. Ryan was seeing Brendon biting his lower lip and raising an eyebrow at him.<\/span><\/p>

                “You’re such a fool, Ross,” said Pete standing behind him.<\/span><\/p>

                Pete got Ryan off of Brendon, who traded places with him; now Ryan was on the couch, hands behind his back, and Brendon and Pete stood in front of him.<\/span><\/p>

                “Do you know, Ryan, how many things can be done with duct tape? It’s such a powerful source of stickiness!” Pete said with a smile.<\/span><\/p>

                “Ugh, Pete, I hate you!”<\/span><\/p>

                “Why? I ain’t doing anything! Brendon here is gonna do it all for me.” Pete handed Brendon the roll of duct tape. “He’s all yours.” Pete walked away with a deep sense of satisfaction, so much that he did not need to stay and watch the show.<\/span><\/p>

                Once they were alone, Brendon kneeled on top of Ryan, just like he had been on top of Brendon a minute ago. “Ready?” he asked, getting a strap of the gray tape.<\/span><\/p>

                “W-what are you gonna do?” Ryan asked, afraid.<\/span><\/p>

                “This will only hurt a lot,” he said. He slowly moved the tape closer to Ryan’s eyebrows, as if letting him know of what was coming.<\/span><\/p>

                <\/span>“No, no, no! Please! Brendon! Bren!” Ryan tried to avoid getting the tape on his face by shaking his head.<\/p>

                “Stop moving! Unless you want me to tape some other part of your body.” Brendon put his fingers on Ryan’s pants, ready to unbutton them if Ryan refused to behave.<\/span><\/p>

                “No! No, please, have mercy on me!”<\/span><\/p>

                “I don’t think so,” he said. The tape again came closer to Ryan’s brows.<\/span><\/p>

                “Wait, no! Don’t you think you’re going too far?!”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon snapped. He became instantly furious with Ryan’s pathetic excuse. “Too far? Too far?! You think this is going too far?! Oh, so what you did was nothing, huh?! ‘Oh, I’m gonna sleep with Brendon, and it’s no big deal. I’m gonna break his little, insignificant heart into teeny, bitsy pieces and he won’t mind.’ Right. So what you did was definitely<\/i> not too far. Playing games to prove your ‘macho-ness’ is not going too far because other people don’t matter except for you and your stupid reputation. Because you don’t care if people fall in love with you. You don’t care if you actually mean something to someone. You don’t care if they would throw themselves into the wolf’s mouth for you. You only care about yourself. But now I see how worthless you are and I feel stupid for ever thinking otherwise. I can’t believe I ever thought you were the most precious person in the world.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon’s words struck Ryan like a sword through his chest. “Brendon…”<\/span><\/p>

                “No, let me finish.” Brendon could feel a knot already building in his throat. “I used to think that being with you was the only thing that mattered. I can’t tell you how happy I was when we went out. The first time you spoke to me I nearly died. And the first time you began to flirt with me I just fell even more for you; you’re terrible at flirting, but I found that incredibly adorable. And then that one day… Gosh, that day I gave myself to you and it felt like…” He stopped to clear his throat and rub his reddish eyes. “I can’t explain how happy I was that day. Obviously, you were too, but not even close to the way I thought you felt. You know how big a jerk you are? You are the most pathetic, repulsive, inhuman, disgusting individual I have ever met, and ugh, I love you so fucking much!”<\/span><\/p>

                Now Ryan did not know what to say. He kept quiet and watched Brendon cry motionlessly and silently by his side. He wanted to apologize, but he knew an apology would be useless and even ridiculous. But Ryan honestly felt guilty, and every second that passed he started to hate himself more and more. He wished he wasn’t tied up so that he could comfort Brendon, but even if he was free he may not have done so, considering the situation. He tried words instead.<\/span><\/p>

                “I didn’t know you loved me like that,” he said in a deeply upset tone.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon didn’t turn to him. “Well, congratulations—I do,” he said coldly.<\/span><\/p>

                A long moment of silence fell upon them, and there was nothing they could say to kill it. Brendon stood up, knowing there was nothing left to do but leave.<\/span><\/p>

                “Brendon, I’m sorry.”<\/span><\/p>

                But what he said did not matter, and Brendon left the house and closed the door.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan threw his head backward as he called himself the most terrible names. He felt like he needed—but did not deserve—comfort from someone. He realized that there was no one in the world that would be willing to assure him things would be okay. Wherever he looked, no one ever had a shoulder he could cry on, and so he never needed it. But he needed it now. And for once someone cared enough, and he didn’t know it felt this good to be cared about.<\/span><\/p>

                Amazingly, Ryan felt he needed Brendon. Ryan thought Brendon would make it all better. Ryan began to think that Brendon had something better than any other girl ever gave him. But most importantly, Ryan realized he needed Brendon to come back to untie his sore wrists.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

                Ryan lay on his bed some nights and thought of Brendon. There must have been a way he could apologize. There must have been a way he could make it all work again. He thought of what it would be like if things actually worked out between Brendon and him. He pictured Brendon giving him a warm smile, and it made his insides tingle. He imagined feeling depressed and Brendon hugging him until he felt better. Ryan grinned at the thought. He often fell asleep this way, and many of his dreams were calmer, sweeter, better.<\/span><\/p>

                Looking out the window, he would watch Brendon arriving from school. He never dared go out and speak to him. It was so much easier before, when he would beg not so subtly to have sex with him. But now it was like he had no words to ask for what he wanted, since his vocabulary didn’t go much farther after ‘penis’ and ‘vagina.’ He knew there was a four-letter word many people talked about, but it was intricate and profound and way too intimidating when it actually had meaning.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan was worried about Pete. He was afraid that he would turn Brendon into one of them. Also, he simply wished Pete would stop pretending to have fun with him, because Ryan wished he could at least have a friendship with Brendon. Yeah, a friendship sounded nice. But it didn’t feel right. Dating, boyfriend. Yes, that sounded better.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan hoped not everything was lost, and a newly uncovered force in him drove him to persevere.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

                Pete was at Brendon’s house again, and like usual, they weren’t doing much. Lately they didn’t spend as much time talking about Ryan and revenge. And with lack of action, Pete was sitting back on Brendon’s couch, while Brendon was doing the same. A basketball kept him occupied as he skillfully spun it on his index finger.<\/span><\/p>

                “Gosh, I’m bored!” Pete whined. “Why am I here again?”<\/span><\/p>

                “You said we’d spy on Ryan or something.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Oh, yeah. Well, there’s really nothing to see.”<\/span><\/p>

                More seconds of silence built up Pete’s impatience. He stared blankly at nothing in particular in front of him. Then he became interested in Brendon rotating his ball.<\/span><\/p>

                “Hey, you wanna play basketball?”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon stopped the ball. “Sure. But what about Ryan?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Eh. Let’s forget about him for today.”<\/span><\/p>

                The two boys got up and went outside to Brendon’s parking space, or in this case, his basketball court. “You go first,” said Pete. Brendon stepped outside the limit and bounced the ball to Pete, who likewise bounced it back. Brendon caught it and ran past Pete, bouncing it throughout. Pete ran behind him and tried to block, but Brendon threw a shot and made it in. The game continued for a while, and Brendon was winning by only a few points.<\/span><\/p>

                Right next door, Ryan was at home listening to loud music coming from his earphones. He sat on his couch alone, his mother in the kitchen cooking something that smelled like bacon. He removed one ear bud from his ear to ask what was going to be served for lunch, but the sound of a bouncing ball and running feet interrupted him. He pressed stop and put his earphones down to walk outside. He saw Brendon and Pete playing basketball together like they were old friends—something he never expected. He was jealous of how close they appeared to be. Unable to resist, he approached them and disrupted. “Hey, can I play?”<\/span><\/p>

                No answer, and the two kept playing as heatedly and attentively as before.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan felt unwanted, and he was. Nevertheless, he decided to join the game—the hard way. He stepped in the way of the boys and made an effort to steal the ball from either one of them. They evaded him with no trouble, though, and all Ryan was worthy of was an insulting, “Get out of the way!”<\/span><\/p>

                “I need to talk to Brendon,” he said back to Pete.<\/span><\/p>

                “We have nothing to talk about,” Brendon said as he scored another two points.<\/span><\/p>

                “Just let me speak to you. Ha!” Ryan had taken the ball from Pete. He aimed it at the hoop to shoot.<\/span><\/p>

                “Hey, what the hell?!” Pete complained, pushing Ryan’s shoulder, and before Ryan could shoot the ball up in the air, the push made him accidentally throw the ball in another direction. The basketball hit Brendon’s nose, and soon blood began to drain gradually to his upper lip.<\/span><\/p>

                “Ugh! Ryan!” Brendon whined behind the hand covering his nose.<\/span><\/p>

                “God, Brendon, I’m so sorry!”<\/span><\/p>

                “Way to go, dumbass,” Pete said sarcastically.<\/span><\/p>

                “What?! You pushed me!”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan tried to ignore Pete and focused on Brendon instead. He got closer to him and moved Brendon’s hand out of the way to see how bad the injury was.<\/span><\/p>

                “Don’t touch me!” Brendon ordered as he snatched his hand from Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

                “C’mon. I’ll get you something.” Ryan softly moved Brendon’s shoulder to turn in the direction to his house.<\/span><\/p>

                “I don’t want your help!”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan looked at him fixedly before gripping his arm firmly. He forced him to walk along with him to his house and into his bathroom.<\/span><\/p>

                “Ryan, let it go! It’s nothing!”<\/span><\/p>

                “I don’t care how small it is; I have to heal it!”<\/span><\/p>

                “No! This is stupid!”<\/span><\/p>

                “It’s not stupid! I hurt you! I’m responsible!”<\/span><\/p>

                “And since when do you care about me or responsibility?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Since now. Now, be still.” Ryan tried to clean the blood from Brendon’s nose with a wet towel, but Brendon refused.<\/span><\/p>

                “No! It can heal on its own.”<\/span><\/p>

                “But I feel bad for hitting you.”<\/span><\/p>

                “You?! How do you think I feel? Look at me: I’m bleeding!”<\/span><\/p>

                “Please, Brendon. I know cuts hurt. And I know I’m a terrible person for mishandling the ball. You’re a good player. A good player doesn’t deserve a hit on the nose. I suck. I deserve to bleed, not you.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Exactly, because you don’t know anything about basketball or how much it means to me. To you it’s nothing.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Brendon, you taught me, remember? And I think I finally learned. I want to play again, please; but I’ll do it by the rules.”<\/span><\/p>

                “I don’t ever want to play basketball or football or any other sport in the world with you again.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Brendon…”<\/span><\/p>

                “I hate your guts. Now leave me alone.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Brendon!” Ryan pulled Brendon back, urgently wanting him to understand. “I mean it! I didn’t know love existed, but I’m starting to think it might. No one looks at me the way you do, and I like how that feels.”<\/span><\/p>

                “I’m not falling for your corny lines again.”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan clenched his wrists and let out a frustrated groan. “Brendon! I feel for you things I haven’t felt before! You make me feel special! I’m not fucking with you! Believe me!” His eyes stared at Brendon’s, begging for a good reply.<\/span><\/p>

                Turning around, Brendon exited Ryan’s bathroom and his house and walked back to where Pete was playing on his own. Ryan followed behind him.<\/span><\/p>

                “What happened?” Pete asked Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

                “Ryan’s talking bullshit again.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Brendon, please!” begged Ryan. “You have to believe me!”<\/span><\/p>

                “What’s with him?” asked Pete.<\/span><\/p>

                “I’m truly, truly<\/i> sorry for what I did! Please forgive me!” He took Brendon’s hand between both of his. “This isn’t a game. I want to quit and be with you instead.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon looked over to Pete, asking for help.<\/span><\/p>

                “Sorry, Ry. You’re just going to have to get over it. Brendon ain’t going anywhere near your bed anymore.”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan attacked Pete with a look. “Shut up! Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m not doing this any longer! I just want Brendon. Not Brendon’s body, but Brendon.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon closed his eyes, still not believing anything Ryan was saying.<\/span><\/p>

                “Ryan, don’t tell me you’ve been watching your mom’s soap operas again. I told you that’s way too sappy for you.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Shut up, Pete!”<\/span><\/p>

                “Where are your Playboy magazines? Those will get you back on track.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Pete! Shut your fucking mouth for the first time in your fucking life, you stupid douche bag! I like<\/i> Brendon for him, and that’s something you’re never going to understand, are you?! Fortunately, I’m not like you anymore. So you can fuck whoever you want, but leave me alone and let me have something more with Brendon, please!”<\/span><\/p>

                “Oh, no,” said Pete. His expression had rapidly fallen.<\/span><\/p>

                “What?” asked Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

                “We’re losing him.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Brendon, I’ll do anything. I wish to redeem myself.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Oh, no. We’re really losing him!” exclaimed Pete.<\/span><\/p>

                “You mean he means what he’s saying?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Let me be with you and create something real.”<\/span><\/p>

                “He’s going! He’s going!”<\/span><\/p>

                “And I don’t care that Pete’s listening. I don’t care if he takes it against me. Brendon, all I care about is your answer.”<\/span><\/p>

                “And he’s still going!”<\/span><\/p>

                “I want to fall in love with you like you are with me.”<\/span><\/p>

                “And he’s gone! Congratulations, Ryan—you just reached la-la land!”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon watched confusedly as Pete walked away and as Ryan still held his hand. He looked at Ryan looking back with innocent eyes. Before saying anything, he lowered his eyes to the ground. He noticed and contemplated those bony fingers he loved surrounding his own hand. A quick tear fell from his eyes to the middle of his cheek, and Ryan wiped it off right away with his thumb.<\/span><\/p>

                “Ryan, if you hurt me again…” Brendon couldn’t finish his sentence as his eyes became watery.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan cupped his hand on Brendon’s cheek and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, one that took both their breaths away. He pulled him into a hug and let him have his shoulder to cry on it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry. Thank you.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon embraced Ryan tightly and let a few tears wet his shirt. Somehow, this was more cushioned than his pillow.<\/span><\/p>

                And now Ryan had<\/i> a pillow.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

                Lunchtime again, Pete sat as normal as always at their table with the boys. Ryan was there as well, but no word had been said between them about Brendon. The cafeteria was as quiet as always (well, as quiet as a high school cafeteria can get), and no tension seemed to exist. Perhaps Ryan had a new perspective on life and love. Then again…<\/span><\/p>

                “Pete!” someone called from another table. Pete turned around and managed not to faint when Ashlee, the most sought girl in school, was smirking and curling a finger at him, signaling him to come. Quite a while ago, she had rejected him because she had a boyfriend, but Pete thought that possibly her relationship status had changed.<\/span><\/p>

                He turned to the boys and raised one eyebrow accompanied by a smirk. He got up from his chair and walked across the cafeteria to meet the girl of his dreams. Once there, Ashlee stood up and planted a hard kiss on Pete’s lips. Needless to say, Pete willingly accepted it.<\/span><\/p>

                Before they were even finished, the voice of a boy called Ashlee from a distance. Ashlee responded by breaking the kiss and slapping Pete’s face, leaving a pink mark on his cheek.<\/span><\/p>

                “What’s going on?” asked the boy, who was now standing next to Ashlee. He was much taller and better built than Pete.<\/span><\/p>

                “This asshole kissed me!” Ashlee said, disgusted.<\/span><\/p>

                The boy looked down at Pete and gripped his shirt. Pete knew what was coming, and all he could do by now was close his eyes with terror.<\/span><\/p>

                The entire group of kids observed the show. Ryan was making sure to take pictures he had promised to send to Brendon. He put a few together in a multimedia message and, before pressing ‘send,’ typed a ‘less than’ symbol and the number three next to it—out of plain joy and inspiration.<\/span><\/p>

                When Ryan looked up from his phone, Ashlee glimpsed at him and sent him a flirty wink, to which he replied with a thumbs-up. It was not odd that she had accepted making him this favor since she once used to frequent his bed and vice-versa; of course she was going to help his wonderful ex-bed-partner if he requested it, and he knew so.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan, Shane, and a dozen other kids were pleased by the fight taking place (although calling it a fight was giving Pete too much credit). A black eye? Suspension? Ryan thought the possibilities were endless.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan felt his phone vibrate, and he checked his new message. It was an ‘XD’ from Brendon, who Ryan wished could be there to see it all. Shortly after, his phone vibrated again, and this time the screen displayed the same type of heart Ryan had sent him.<\/span><\/p>

                He then was struck with the idea that maybe he should thank Pete for putting Brendon in his path instead of making him go through this. He concluded that, knowing Pete, he would accept this little treat as a ‘thank you, jackass.’ It was all brotherly love.




Author's Notes: <\/strong>Gosh, I didn't want to get Ryan and Brendon together, but you guys made me! (Plus I couldn't think of another ending.) I hope you're happy! *angry pout*

Again, sorry that this took me forever. I just hope it was worth the wait.

By the way, it's almost Love Day, so this is my Valentine's Day present to you. So if you read this fic, you're officially my Valentine.<\/span>
 <\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:4626","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/4626.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=4626"}}],"title":"'I Love it' is More Precise (1\/2)","published":"2010-02-13T06:24:16Z","updated":"2012-01-07T04:07:49Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"smut"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"school"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"other bands\/characters"}}],"content":"Title: <\/strong>'I Love it' is More Precise
Author: <\/strong><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/strong>PG-13
Pairing: <\/strong>Rydon
POV: <\/strong>Third
IMPORTANT: <\/span><\/strong>This is a sequel to "I Love You--or Something Like That<\/a>." You must read the first part before you read this fic.
Summary: <\/strong>Anything can happen when there's pain and anger involved.
Disclaimer: <\/strong>This is fictional. I do not own anything, except for the story.
Beta: <\/strong>Janette (<\/a>o_melody_nelson<\/b><\/a><\/span>  couldn't do it this time =( *sad face*)
Author Notes: <\/strong>I'm so, so, so sorry this took me FOREVER to write. I had a tough time coming up with a plot, and I had a problem with my beta, and I'm super super busy. But you asked for it, and it's finally DONE! So hurry up and read to find out what happens!





                That night, Brendon cried. Realizing that Ryan had used him was more than he could bear. He punched his pillow over and over, a pillow wetly stained from his tears, and with every punch there was an angry groan and sometimes some cursing. Brendon was devastated. He felt fury and disgust toward Ryan. He felt humiliated and foolish. He felt like an idiot.<\/span><\/p>

                For such a long time he had fancied Ryan, watching him go in and out of his house, always trying to find out who he was, what he was like. It seemed unreal that Ryan had shown interest, that they were actually together. For once he thought he had found love. But now he saw how wrong he was, and he felt like a stupid idiot.<\/span><\/p>

                “God, I’m such a fucking idiot!” he cried as he hit the pillow, face red and eyes tightened. Hot tears kept running down his face, covering most of his cheeks. “Fuck you, Ross! Fuck you!”<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

                It wasn’t very long after Brendon and Ryan broke up when Brendon heard the doorbell ring one night. He answered it, wondering who it could be. Surprised, Brendon saw a teenage girl standing on his doorstep, seeming a little anxious.<\/span><\/p>

                “Is this where Ryan lives?” asked the girl.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon’s heart pumped with anger and hurt. “Uh, no, he lives next door,” he said as normally as he could.<\/span><\/p>

                The girl closed her eyes in annoyance and turned her head up at the sky. “Dammit, I was standing here for minutes before I had the guts to ring the doorbell, and now I have to go do it again.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Um, well, good luck with that.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Wait! Um…” The girl looked back at the car that was parked at the other side of the street. “Can I come in and hide in here? It’ll only be for a minute.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon didn’t understand what was happening, but he conceded and allowed the stranger to step into his house. “What’s going on?”<\/span><\/p>

                The girl sighed and leaned on the closed door. “Do you know Ryan?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Yeah.”<\/span><\/p>

                “So you know the kind of reputation he has?”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon could only imagine. “Yeah.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Those outside are my friends. We were playing Truth or Dare, and unfortunately I picked dare. Now they expect me to spend the night with Ryan.”<\/span><\/p>

                “So what are you doing here?”
                “It’s Ryan we’re talking about. I mean, as sexy as he is, I’m afraid of having anything to do with him.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Yeah, I think I know what you mean.”<\/span><\/p>

                The girl kept glancing at the window, waiting to see lights that announced her friends were leaving. “Have you heard all the things that are said about him? I think all of my girlfriends have some crazy story about him. The last one I heard was about some conflict he and his friend had. Supposedly they made some sort of bet or something, and who knows what poor girl was involved in their game. Some people say it was a guy, but I don’t believe that; we all know that Ryan is not<\/i> gay and would never do anything<\/i> gay. Anyway, I just know that Ryan is some dangerous boy, and I don’t want to be part of his list of girls.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Wait, did you say he made a bet?” Now Brendon was really interested in what this girl had to say.<\/span><\/p>

                “Yeah, something like that. I don’t know much ‘cause everyone was so secretive about it, but Pete made Ryan do some crazy thing…”<\/span><\/p>

                “Pete?” he interrupted. That name was unforgettable to Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

                “Yeah. All I know about Pete is that he’s the devil. So I wouldn’t be surprised if he and Ryan were really behind an evil plot like that.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon had thought being cheated on was harsh. Now he thought Ryan was a total, inconsiderate prick. More than before, he wished he could slice a knife through Ryan’s neck.<\/span><\/p>

                “It looks like they’re gone. Thank you so much for letting me stay.”<\/span><\/p>

                “No, thank you<\/i>,” Brendon said.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

                It was now two weeks since Brendon and Ryan last saw each other that day at Ryan’s house. Brendon still could not get over the severe heartache, and he was still resentful. Inside his bedroom, he sat in his desk next to the window. Nothing better had he to do than to read one of his books. He had not played basketball ever since the incident due to fear of seeing Ryan. So usually he read.<\/span><\/p>

                As he ran his eyes through the lines of the page, his vision caught a moving figure outside his window. He recognized the person—the boy. It was the same boy he had seen two weeks earlier sitting on Ryan’s closet. Now that Brendon knew the truth, he was not about to let Pete off the hook so easily. He abandoned his book on his desk and made a run for the door. Once outside, he walked toward Pete, who appeared to be headed to Ryan’s house.<\/span><\/p>

                “Oh, shit,” Pete cussed to himself. He abruptly turned around and kept walking the opposite direction.<\/span><\/p>

                “Hey, you! Come here!” Brendon yelled out. He was running now, afraid of Pete getting away.<\/span><\/p>

                Pete felt a hand on his shoulder, so it was too late to run off. He turned his body completely to face Brendon. To his misfortune, Brendon looked enraged. He was not much of a physical threat, but it was obvious that he had been badly hurt and that nothing could stop him from releasing his anger. His eyes gave out the message that any minor offense meant danger. Pete could almost see flames in his eyes and smoke rising from his ears.<\/span><\/p>

                “You,” Brendon said threateningly.<\/span><\/p>

                “Hey, man, wha-what’s up?” Pete asked nervously.<\/span><\/p>

                “You gave Ryan the idea of using me.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? It was nothing personal. I just wanted to tease Ryan, you know? It was all brotherly love between friends, between me and him. I didn’t mean any harm to you.”<\/span><\/p>

                “This is all your fault. I was humiliated because of you, because I was part of your little game.” Brendon gripped Pete’s collar, ready to attack.<\/span><\/p>

                “Whoa, whoa, wait!” Pete said desperately. “Don’t take this against me. It is Ryan you should be mad at. He should get most of the blame, not me.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Just because he was the one to take action in this, doesn’t mean you’re guilt-free.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Okay, okay, I know. But think about it. I came up with the idea, yes. But he willingly went along with it. Initially it might not have been the most pleasant thing to him, but to be completely honest with you, he became really involved in this on his own. He was using you, and it was for his own gain. He thought selfishly of himself and not of you.<\/span><\/p>

                “Look at me, Brendon. You don’t feel anything when you look at me. But what do you feel when you see Ryan? You feel his betrayal and the pain he caused. He was there with you; he knew how much you cared about him; he was the one pretending; he did this, Brendon, not me. So give me credit for the plan, but not for carrying it out. It’s Ryan who’s to blame and who’s to hate.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon pondered Pete’s words. He was not very convinced. He was mad at everything and everyone. He dragged Pete closer, determined to make him pay nonetheless.<\/span><\/p>

                “Look, I’ll help you get back at him!”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon stopped again to think about the idea. “Revenge?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Yeah. Let me compensate what I did by helping you. You wanna get back at Ryan?”<\/span><\/p>

                He loved him, and he used him. He trusted him, and he lied to him. And these thoughts made it extremely tempting to want to get back at Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

                Being still right in front of Ryan’s house, Pete could see Ryan peeking out the window. “You want revenge, yes or no?” he asked hastily.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon’s eyes wandered on the ground as he tried to make up his mind. He sighed. “Yeah, I guess so.”<\/span><\/p>

                As Brendon answered, Pete saw Ryan opening the door to his house. In one quick motion, Pete pulled Brendon by the hair and dragged him into a long, awkward kiss.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan shockingly observed Pete kissing Brendon and wondered if it was even real. He rushed to them, bothered by the fact that Pete was in a way taking something from him. “Hey, what’s going on here?” Ryan asked with an authoritative voice.<\/span><\/p>

                Pete finally let go of Brendon, who was frowning from the beginning.<\/span><\/p>

                “What the fuck was that?!” Brendon exclaimed.<\/span><\/p>

                “What’s this?” Ryan asked again.<\/span><\/p>

                “What? I can’t kiss my boyfriend?” Pete replied sarcastically.<\/span><\/p>

                “Boyfriend<\/i>?!” Brendon cried out.<\/span><\/p>

                “What?! You’re not even gay!” said Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

                “So? Neither are you,” Pete said.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan stared at Pete. “That’s not funny.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Who’s laughing?”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan and Pete exchanged stares, and Brendon was simply overwhelmed. “I don’t know what’s up with you guys, but you’re both dangerously insane, so I’m getting out of this mess.”<\/span><\/p>

                He took a step away from the two of them but was instantly halted when Pete grasped his wrist. “No, you’re not. You’re gonna be my boyfriend from now on. Now, shut up!”<\/span><\/p>

                “Pete, stop it,” said Ryan with a serious face.<\/span><\/p>

                “Stop what?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Whatever it is you’re doing, stop it.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Well, I’m not doing anything but exercising my freedom of choice, which I believe is in the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. Wait—freedom of speech, freedom of religion… Anyway, it’s a free country! And just to let you know, I’m not going to your house anymore; I’m going to Brendon’s. C’mon Brendon.” Pete pulled Brendon by the wrist, and they walked together side by side to his house.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan followed behind them but was ignored all the way. “Pete, quit it. Pete. Pete! Pete, you’ve got some explaining to do. You’re not really gonna do this, are you? Pete? Pete!”<\/span><\/p>

                Pete and Brendon went into the house and closed the door on Ryan’s face.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

                The next day at school, Ryan was eating lunch at the green table with his friends. He was molest with Pete and had sent him evil stares from time to time.<\/span><\/p>

                Pete was the first to break the silence they had maintained for the whole day. “You know, Ryan, you were right.”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan looked up at him. “What?” he asked coldly.<\/span><\/p>

                “You were right.”<\/span><\/p>

                “About what?”<\/span><\/p>

                “About what you used to brag about.”<\/span><\/p>

                “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He kept eating, and he kept speaking to Pete with that angry tone.<\/span><\/p>

                “Of course you do. You know, if I hadn’t tried it myself, I wouldn’t have believed Brendon was soooo<\/i> good in bed. I mean, he’s just soooo<\/i> good!”<\/span><\/p>

                The other boys at the table all looked at Pete as if they had just seen some sort of freak.<\/span><\/p>

                “Shut the fuck up, Pete! Shut the fuck up!” Ryan had put down his spork and now was pointing at Pete.<\/span><\/p>

                “I’m sorry, but Brendon and I are boyfriend and boyfriend now, and you can’t help the fact that we’re sexually active.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Whoa! Boyfriend? What the hell did you do now, Pete?” asked Zack.<\/span><\/p>

                “I thought Brendon was dead or something,” said Shane. “You’re still arguing about him?”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan ignored the comments. “Quit messing with my head, Wentz! Brendon wouldn’t do that with you! I don’t care if you’re forcing him to be your pretend-boyfriend; he wouldn’t have had sex with a random dude like you!”<\/span><\/p>

                “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Ry. He was pretty mad at you. He was thirsty for revenge. And, well, I was willing to help.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Oh, boy,” said Spencer.<\/span><\/p>

                “That’s not true.” Ryan picked up his spork and put some mashed potatoes into his mouth.<\/span><\/p>

                “How do you know for sure?”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan shook his head, telling himself that Pete was a moron.<\/span><\/p>

                “Last night he was all like, ‘Fuck me, Pete.’” Pete was imitating Brendon in a sexy voice, and then he began to moan to increase the effect. “’Help me forget Ryan, Pete,’” he said with more moans. He closed his eyes as if reliving the moment.<\/span><\/p>

                Furious, Ryan stood up and walked from his to Pete’s side of the table. He pulled him up from his chair and held his neck firmly with his hand. “You just love to torture me, don’t you?”<\/span><\/p>

                Pete didn’t say anything but kept smiling instead.<\/span><\/p>

                “If I don’t get to fuck Brendon, well, guess what? You don’t get to fuck him either.”<\/span><\/p>

                “You know what they say: All’s fair in love and war.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Oh, but you don’t love Brendon, and neither do I.”<\/span><\/p>

                “No, but he loves you, and I’m just helping him.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Why are you doing this, huh? Since when do you have this obsession to drive me crazy?”<\/span><\/p>

                Pete didn’t answer, because Ryan knew. Ryan knew that when Pete wanted something, he got it. When Pete was defeated, he needed to prove he was not the loser. He always had to be better. Pete had tried to make Ryan appear weaker, since he was the number one choice among the girls. But after Ryan got his way even under Pete’s rules, Pete wasn’t going to let it pass. He would haunt Ryan until it was understood that nobody had the right to step above him.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

                Although Ryan had tried to get over the idea of having sex with Brendon or just boys in general, the severity of his desire rose back up after Pete once again got involved with his personal life. Seeing Brendon every so often was tolerable, but watching Pete run his hands throughout him wasn’t. The fact that Pete had spent more than one night at Brendon’s house intrigued him greatly. He could not help but imagine what they could be doing if Pete happened to be telling the truth, and all Ryan could do those wondering times was pathetically satisfy his jealousy with himself. Still, Ryan kept telling himself that Pete was immature and idiotic, and that he wouldn’t let him get to his nerves. But combining two resentful people against him was not good whatsoever, and his troubles would soon go beyond the struggle in his mind.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

                Late one night, Ryan’s room started to fill with sounds of thick breathing and skin rubbing. Lying on his bed, he ran his lips and tongue all over a girl’s neck. Their hands gripped each other’s clothes, hair, and anything they could grasp.<\/span><\/p>

                Just when their breaths were becoming more rushed, the doorbell rang. Ryan took a moment of hesitation to sigh heavily and roll his eyes. He ignored it and kept eating the girl beneath him.<\/span><\/p>

                “Aren’t you gonna answer that?” asked the girl.<\/span><\/p>

                “No. Just keep going.”<\/span><\/p>

                As it would be expected, the doorbell rang again, and they ignored it once again. But the ringing wouldn’t cease. Soon the doorbell was ringing impatiently, the repetitive sound bouncing on their ears.<\/span><\/p>

                “Are you sure you’re not gonna get that?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Yeah. They’ll get tired eventually.”<\/span><\/p>

                The annoying repetition changed to a long held ‘ding,’ followed by a silent buzz, and then by a ‘dong’ as the doorbell button was released. This continued, and the two of them had enough of it.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan groaned in frustration and headed to the living room. When opening the door, he found Pete, Brendon, and a multitude of people on his front yard.<\/span><\/p>

                “Surpriiiiise!” yelled Pete, extending his arms.<\/span><\/p>

                “What in the world is this?” Ryan asked.<\/span><\/p>

                “We’re throwing you a surprise birthday party!” exclaimed Pete.<\/span><\/p>

                “Are you kidding me?! It’s not even my birthday!”<\/span><\/p>

                “I know; but if we had thrown you a surprise birthday party on your birthday, it wouldn’t have been a surprise! Duh!”<\/span><\/p>

                “Well, you’re gonna have to leave and take your guests with you ‘cause I’ve got a visitor.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Oh, don’t worry—she won’t mind. C’mon, everybody!”<\/span><\/p>

                The whole crowd entered vivaciously, yelling out excitedly, “Woohoo!” Ryan watched helplessly as his house was being invaded by party animals.<\/span><\/p>

                “Hey, Ryan!” called Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan turned around to face him.<\/span><\/p>

                “Happy birthday! Let me congratulate you.” Brendon punched Ryan’s shoulder. “One!” He punched him again. “Two!” He hit again, harder. “Three!” Harder. “Four!” Passionately harder. “Five!” Hard with rage. “Six!”<\/span><\/p>

                “Okay! Thanks! You’ll break my arm if you keep going!” Ryan said, forcing a smile and rubbing his shoulder.<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon also forced a smile and walked away.<\/span><\/p>

                The music started. Everyone was loud. Soon enough, Ryan’s date was out of the room. “What’s going on?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Let’s go someplace else,” Ryan told her.<\/span><\/p>

                They headed for the door, but Pete was not going to let them go. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you going? You can’t miss your own birthday party!”<\/span><\/p>

                “It’s your birthday?”<\/span><\/p>

                “No. They just…”<\/span><\/p>

                “Don’t be such a party pooper and get over here.” Pete took Ryan’s arm and dragged him to the middle of the living room. “Everybody, let’s sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Ryan!”<\/span><\/p>

                Someone turned down the music, and everyone began to sing. Ryan listened through a song that was so annoying at the time, especially since it was not even his birthday. Once the song was over, the loud stereo music resumed playing. The chattering also continued, and Ryan stood looking around while everyone else socialized. “I’m leaving,” he heard someone say. The girl he had been with was starting to walk away, and there was nothing Ryan could do to stop her.<\/span><\/p>

                Before Ryan knew it, his house had turned into a wreck. People were jumping on the couch; a few drinks and snacks had been spilled on the ground; and objects were being touched and moved around. He had to tell people more than once not to go into the rooms, especially the main room. Ryan didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he would be dead if anything happened to his house.<\/span><\/p>

                His thoughts and worry were interrupted by Brendon, who called him from beside. “Don’t just stay there; let’s dance!” He dragged Ryan to where all the others were dancing and chatting. Ryan watched Brendon dance to the music.<\/span><\/p>

                “Why are you playing along with Pete? Don’t listen to him. He gives terrible advice.”<\/span><\/p>

                “You would know about that, wouldn’t you?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Yes. It’s because<\/i> I know about that that I’m telling you not to listen to him.”<\/span><\/p>

                Brendon grabbed Ryan’s arms and wobbled them around to make him dance, but Ryan shook him off and gave him a bothered look before walking away. Suddenly, Pete jumped from out of nowhere onto Ryan’s back, forcing him to piggyback. “Woo!” he shouted. “Aren’t you having fun, Ry? Giddy up!”<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

                “I heard you got the cheerleading captain last night. Is that true?” Jon asked Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

                As if completely deaf, Ryan let the question pass without an answer.<\/span><\/p>

                “What’s wrong, RyRy?” Pete asked with fake concern. “Don’t feel like bragging about your super hot date? ‘Cause she is<\/i> hot; am I right, guys?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Oh, yeah!” they all agreed.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan’s cold shoulder did not get any warmer, and neither did the expression on his face.<\/span><\/p>

                “Wait, I<\/i> heard there was a party at your house. How come I wasn’t invited?” asked Spencer.<\/span><\/p>

                Silence and indifference persisted in Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

                “What’s wrong with him?” Shane asked Pete.<\/span><\/p>

                “He’s just tired. Last night he had so much fun, he can’t even speak. Right, Ryan?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Go to hell.”<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

                P.E. was Ryan’s last period. He had just finished running the mile and was tired, sweaty, and smelly. After most of his classmates were gone, he took his clothes off and got into the showers.<\/span><\/p>

                While Ryan was taking care of his business, Pete watchfully walked into the boys’ locker room. He looked around to make sure not to run into Ryan. Once he saw that he was already showering, he looked for his clothes. He found the gray shirt and black jeans he remembered Ryan wearing and took them along with the white towel next to them. Pete then pulled from his hoodie pocket a piece of paper after putting Ryan’s clothes into his backpack. He placed the folded sheet under Ryan’s shoes and left the locker room quickly.<\/span><\/p>

                After five minutes of scrubbing and rinsing, Ryan turned the shower valve. But when he wanted to change back into his clothes, they weren’t there. He tried looking for them elsewhere, but his clothes were still missing. After going to and fro throughout the locker room, he returned to his small pile of belongings, hoping the rest of his clothing would miraculously appear there. But he was not surprised when he found the exact same amount of items. This time, however, he noticed the piece of paper sticking out from underneath his shoes. He unfolded it and discovered that it was a handwritten note.<\/span><\/p>

                I thought that since you’re so used to being seen naked maybe you wouldn’t need your clothes anymore. Love, Brendon.<\/i><\/span><\/p>

                Ryan felt stupid for not having suspected it was them from the beginning. But now his biggest issue was finding a way to get out of the locker room without exposing himself half naked to the school. And since classes were dismissed, everybody was outside—some getting out of class, others hanging around, others waiting for their after-school activities to begin.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan couldn’t call someone for help because he had left his phone in his pants, so he had to figure this one out on his own. He tried to open the small room where all the P.E. clothes and equipment were, but it was locked. He checked all the open lockers, but they were all empty. Helpless, he waited awhile until he couldn’t hear much noise outside. He peeked out the door, and apparently no one was near. Taking his shoes and backpack, he went out with merely his boxers and socks on.<\/span><\/p>

                It was going well for a moment, until he turned a corner and ran into a bunch of kids talking among themselves. They saw him immediately and started laughing without hesitation.<\/span><\/p>

                “Hey, Ryan. Tryin’ a new look?”<\/span><\/p>

                “You couldn’t even wait to get home this time?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Did she run off? We’ll help you find her. What’s her name? Wait, do<\/i> you know her name?”<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan avoided looking at them and ran past them across the hall. When he turned the next corner, he found a few boys from the soccer team, who giggled in amusement. They were heading to the gym, carrying their sport bags, and this gave Ryan an idea.<\/span><\/p>

                “Hey, hey! Could I get your clothes? I’ll return them some other day, I promise,” Ryan pleaded.<\/span><\/p>

                “But I need these for soccer practice,” said the boy.<\/span><\/p>

                “No, I know, I mean the clothes you’re wearing now.”<\/span><\/p>

                After the boy undressed and dressed into his soccer uniform, Ryan had some decent clothing on. He thanked the boy and went home, where his own clothes awaited him by his doorstep.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

                “Are you out of your mind?!” Ryan yelled at Pete.<\/span><\/p>

                “Hey, don’t look at me; this one was all Brendon’s idea.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Would you two stop fighting already?!” called out Spencer. “I’m tired of you two. Don’t you have anything else to do than make each other miserable? Especially you, Pete.”<\/span><\/p>

                “Nah. You know that’s my hobby,” he answered.<\/span><\/p>

                “You’re going to hell for what you’re doing, Wentz,” Ryan warned, angry.<\/span><\/p>

                Pete replied by sticking out his tongue at him.<\/span><\/p>

                “C’mon. I think someone needs to hug and make up,” Jon said.<\/span><\/p>

                Ryan’s look told Jon to shut up, but he insisted.<\/span><\/p>

                “Shake hands? Forgive and forget?”<\/span><\/p>

                “Don’t you see they’re too proud?” Brent told Jon. “Just let them kill each other.”<\/span><\/p>




Author's Notes:<\/strong> Excited already? Well, read on! *click<\/a>*<\/span>
<\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:4549","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/4549.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=4549"}}],"title":"I Love You More Than I Hate Bottles","published":"2010-02-13T05:53:00Z","updated":"2010-08-28T01:02:41Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"split"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"other bands\/characters"}}],"content":"Title:<\/strong> I Love You More Than I Hate Bottles
Author: <\/strong><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/strong>PG
Pairing: <\/strong>Rydon, slight Joncer
POV: <\/strong>Third
Summary: <\/strong>The Young Veins!!! Brendon is a huge fan. Like, a huge<\/em> fan. And he's so in love with Ryan Ross. You have no idea. (But then again, you probably do.)
Disclaimer: <\/strong>Don't own, except for the story. This isn't real. Any similarities with your real life (or dreams) is mere coincidence.
Beta: <\/strong><\/a>melody_so_sweet<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Author Notes:<\/strong> I think this is the first time I write Joncer, but it's not much. Thanks to <\/a>lumberxjill<\/b><\/a><\/span>  for her opinion about the title, which comes from the song "I Love You More Than I Hate My Period" by Say Anything. (You should listen to it.) Also, quick announcement, I now have a public Twitter account, so if there's a soul out there who wants to stalk<\/strike> follow me, feel free to do so here<\/a>.



Shhh.<\/i><\/p>

You want to hear a secret?<\/i><\/p>

Ryan's in my closet.<\/i><\/p>

*giggles*<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

Brendon wishes Ryan would stop all the commotion he is causing in there. There is banging on the door and closed-mouth screams. Brendon told Ryan he didn't mean him harm, but Ryan for some reason still opposed being tied up and locked inside the dark closet. But you have to understand Brendon; he's probably the biggest fan of The Young Veins, and Ryan Ross is his dream boy. Once he saw him in person, Brendon couldn't let the opportunity pass. So, with some incredible ability and a tremendous amount of luck, Brendon managed to capture Ryan and bring him into his house.<\/p>

Omigosh, I can't believe I got him! He's right here with me! Ryan Ross is in my closet and he's all mine!<\/i><\/p>

Ryan is sitting on the floor and against the closet door, his knees in front of his chest. His wrists are tied with duct tape behind his back and his ankles have encountered the same fate. A strip of tape covers his mouth, and a blindfold his eyes. All Ryan knows is that he was kidnapped by some crazy fan and that only a miracle can save him from whatever this boy has in mind.<\/p>

"Ryan, stop screaming, please!" Brendon calls from outside the closet. "If you stop panicking, I'll get you out! Wouldn't you like to be on a bed instead of that claustrophobic room?"<\/p>

Ryan, in his panic, ignores Brendon and keeps smashing his head on the door and yelling innerly for help. Brendon is beginning to worry. What if someone hears him? What if Ryan hates him for the rest of his life and they never form a perfect family of three girls and twin boys? (Oh, and don't forget the dogs!)<\/p>

Brendon knows he has to soothe him down somehow. But how?<\/p>

Brendon opens the door and drags Ryan out the closet. The banging has stopped, but Ryan's still screaming. "Shush, Ryan, please!" Brendon helps him up and leans him down on the bed. He rubs his chest and massages his shoulders in a concerned and desperate manner, but Ryan keeps jerking his body, refusing to calm down. "I don't want to hurt you. I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you. Please don't be mad at me, Ryan!" Despite Brendon's pleas, Ryan's possessed-like behavior continues.<\/p>

"Don't go anywhere, Ryro," Brendon says. He runs out of the room and uses the family phone to call his friend. "Spencer? I need your help. Come to my house, quickly! You'll know when you get here. Just come as fast as you can."<\/p>

He hangs up the phone and hurries to the kitchen. He takes a towel and wets it with cold water. (Okay, so he might<\/i> have hurt Ryan by smashing a shovel to his head once, but just to get ahold of him.) Then he quickly returns to his room and finds his bed empty. Ryan is nowhere to be seen, and so Brendon freaks out and urgently begins to look under the covers, inside the closet, behind the desk, and inside the drawers. He makes a mess all in vain before he hears a thud in some other part of the house. Fearful to lose his claimed long-time boyfriend, he jumps over the bed and out the room to the living room, where Ryan is trying to get up from the floor as if his life depended on it. (Well, it does.)<\/p>

Brendon throws himself at the tied man and wrestles to keep him down. Ryan screams and screams until the doorbell makes them both freeze and look up. "Come in!" shouts Brendon. The door opens to make way to Spencer, who seems to be utterly confused with the scene.<\/p>

"Brendon… Huh?"<\/p>

"Quick! Help me put him on the couch! Don't worry, I covered his mouth so he won't bite," Brendon explains.<\/p>

"What? Who is that? And why are you…? Is that Ryan Ross?" Spencer asks, even more puzzled.<\/p>

Brendon grins foolishly. "Yeah! Isn't it awesome?!"<\/p>

Spencer helps Brendon like he asked, sitting Ryan down on the sofa. Both stand in front of him. "Are you nuts?" he asks casually, not letting his disbelief show.<\/p>

"What? It's Ryan Ross!" Brendon says with enthusiasm to justify kidnapping the boy.<\/p>

"Really? You took him to your house, just like that?" he asks coldly.<\/p>

Brendon nods.<\/p>

Spencer's voice turns insecure. "I don't know, Bren. It looks illegal."<\/p>

"But look at him! He's adorable! Can we keep it?!" Brendon asks with hands locked.<\/p>

Ryan gives Brendon a groan and a kick on his knee, which makes him stumble a little. Brendon just points a finger at him with a stern, "No."<\/p>

"Bren, you can't keep it. You don't know him that well, or where he's been," Spencer tells Brendon very seriously. "What if he has cooties, or rabies, or the fun monkey disease, or the pig influence?"<\/p>

His confusion makes Brendon frown his brows and tilt his head sideways. "The pig influence? You mean the H1N1 thing?"<\/p>

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, what are you going to do with it?"<\/p>

Brendon pouts to himself and thinks. "I don't know." He soon jumps a little and snaps his fingers. "Ooh! We could rape him!"<\/p>

Ryan's eyes widen as he pushes his buttocks down deeper into the couch.<\/p>

"You're not gonna rape him!"<\/p>

"Oh, c'mon! Just a little!" he begs, showing Spencer a tiny space of air between his thumb and index finger.<\/p>

"No raping!" commands Spencer.<\/p>

Brendon looks down with disappointment and thinks again. "Oh, I know! How about we lock it in the freezer so that it can last longer?!"<\/p>

Spencer squints his eyes at Brendon and his ‘brilliant’ suggestion. "No, Brendon! Enough with the stupid ideas. What you need to do is return it before you get caught and sent to jail."<\/p>

Brendon successfully ignores everything Spencer says, and his face lights up even more with his new idea. "Oh! Oh! I know! I know! I could marry him!"<\/p>

Ryan gives his head panicky shakes, hoping the boys—or some greater force—will listen to him.<\/p>

"Brendon, that is preposterous. How can you consider such a thing? You can't marry a boy you don't even know. And I know what you're going to say, but you don't know him, Brendon. To marry someone, first you have to get to know them really well. Then you wait until you connect with this person and share something special. Then, if you both think you can maintain a lasting relationship and are willing to commit to each other for the rest of your lives, you can consider joining your lives and souls through marriage. Then once you're both stable financially, you can even form a family and have children that will bring joy to your house and will bring you closer together as you share your love for…" Spencer halts abruptly. "Wait—would I be your best man?"<\/p>

"Of course!"<\/p>

"All right, then!"<\/p>

Terrorized, Ryan jerks forward and begins to yell for his life—or his bachelorhood. Brendon pushes him back gently by the shoulders and sits down next to his fiancé. "Hear that, Ryan?" he says quietly into his ear with a smile. "We're going to get married!"<\/p>

Ryan's fear shows clearly in his eyes. And before he knows it, it's those same fearful eyes that watch as he's being pushed down the aisle that leads to Brendon and the priest at the altar. He and Brendon are wearing matching tuxedos, since evidently nobody wanted to be the bride. The grassy outdoors would make a perfect setting for a wedding if it wasn't for the still-captive groom and the odd-looking pews to Ryan's right, which are all empty. Understandably, Ryan’s family didn’t show up—or wasn’t invited, for that matter.<\/p>

When Spencer finally gets Ryan to the front, Brendon nods to the priest to proceed.<\/p>

"We're here today to join in marriage…"<\/p>

"We know what we're here for!" Brendon exclaims to the priest impatiently, rolling his eyes and throwing an arm for emphasis. "Just get to the end already."<\/p>

"Uh, right. Brendon, do you take Ryan as your husband?"<\/p>

"I do."<\/p>

"Ryan, do you take Brendon as your husband?"<\/p>

Ryan desperately shakes his head and groans to the priest, but Spencer takes his head and forces it to nod up and down.<\/p>

"He does," Brendon says for him.<\/p>

"If there are any objections to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace."<\/p>

"I object!" exclaims a voice. Everyone present turns around to see the person who interfered with the ceremony. At the back of the aisle stand Jon, Andy, Nick, and Nick, all of them seeming considerably maddened. Ryan finally feels relieved and thanks heaven that his guys are here to save him from all this nonsense and unwanted people. "I demand an end to this wedding!" continues Jon. "This man kidnapped our vocalist Ryan Ross!"<\/p>

The guests all gasp simultaneously and murmur among themselves as the crew of band members march toward the pair of grooms.<\/p>

"Just who do you think you are?" Jon threateningly asks Brendon, who looks at him a little frightened. "Get ready to feel the fury." Jon prepares his right fist by bumping it lightly to his left palm—something that makes Brendon gulp.<\/p>

Out of nowhere, Spencer comes to the rescue to defend his endangered friend. He looks ready to confront any kind of trouble. "Hold on now. What's going on here?"<\/p>

As if being in the presence of a holy ghost, Jon lets his arms drop along with his jaw. He stares at Spencer with idiot eyes for a notably long amount of time, contemplating the boy and his sensual man curves. It’s as though the rest of the world is blocked from view and heaven placed a limelight on him as a chorus silences the earth with its celestial voices. "Who is this angelical being I have the divine privilege to meet?" Jon asks to generally anyone.<\/p>

"That's Spencer," replies Brendon.<\/p>

"Spencer!" Jon repeats. "We shall marry!"<\/p>

"What?" Spencer says immediately.<\/p>

"Ooh, goody! A double wedding!" joyfully cries Brendon.<\/p>

And so, just as helpless as before, Ryan stands at the altar next to Brendon, who stands next to Spencer, who stands next to Jon, the last three seeming very okay with this whole situation. Everyone says their I-do's, and Jon and Spencer kiss. Brendon takes out a Sharpie from his pocket and draws a caricaturistic pair of lips on Ryan's duct tape. He kisses him—virtually—and Ryan throws angry eyebrows at him.<\/p>

"Ryan, aren't you super happy that we're married now?" Brendon asks him.<\/p>

Ryan mumbles something incomprehensible but definitely meant to be insulting.<\/p>

"What? I don't know what you're saying. Here, let me take this off you."<\/p>

Brendon painfully pulls the tape from Ryan's mouth, freeing him for the first time.<\/p>

After a loud 'ow,' Ryan yells, "WHAT THE F…?!?"<\/p>

 <\/p>

*!*<\/p>

 <\/p>

Pete sits up on the bed with a sudden jump, followed by heavy breathing and bewildered glances around the room.<\/p>

"Dreams again?" asks Andy, holding some sort of magazine in his hands.<\/p>

Pete doesn’t even answer, still astound and breathing hard.<\/p>

"Been reading slash lately?"<\/p>

"No!"<\/p>

Andy gives him a look that asks him to spit it out.<\/p>

"Yes,” he finally admits. “They're just so made for each other. I can't believe they had to split up," Pete explains.<\/p>

"Yeah. It's too bad. At least we know we're still going strong as a band for a heck of a long time. Just look at those two lovebirds," he says sarcastically after looking past Pete where the other two are still sleeping, Joe hugging Patrick.<\/p>

Pete looks around, notices them, and smiles slightly to himself.<\/p>

"Say, aren't we late for something? It's just past eight," Andy points out.<\/p>

"I don't know, but for some reason I'm feeling young and reckless today."<\/p>


Y Fin.


A\/N: <\/strong>Yay for tons of outside references :D <\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:3640","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/3640.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=3640"}}],"title":"Coal--Sweater--iPod--This","published":"2009-12-28T05:13:22Z","updated":"2012-01-07T04:38:30Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fantasy"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fluff"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"holiday"}}],"content":"

Title:<\/strong> Coal--Sweater--iPod--This
Author:<\/strong>  <\/span> <\/span><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating:<\/strong> PG for an innocent kissing scene
Pairing:<\/strong> Rydon
POV:<\/strong> Third, Brendon-centric
Summary:<\/strong> It's Brendon's job to deliver the Christmas presents, but something special happens when he gets to a certain house.
Disclaimer:<\/strong> I do not own anything or anyone, except for the story. The story is completely fictional. Whether Santa's fictional or not is up to you.
Beta:<\/strong> My friend Janette
Author Notes:<\/strong> It's a little too late, but I guess it's better late than never. More author's notes included after the story.

<\/span>\ufeff\ufeff

            Brendon wondered how a big guy like Santa could manage to slide down these chimneys, when he was having a hard time himself. He also wondered how a guy could be so jolly with a job like this. Well, he had to admit that the cookies and milk were pretty rewarding.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon stepped out of the dark and narrow chimney that led to a more pleasurable living room. It was pleasantly cozy, unlike the freezing weather outside. A colorful Christmas tree, red hanged boots, and a few other ornaments enclosed the house with a jovial spirit that most homes had during this time of the year. Brendon could feel that spirit here a little more than in the previous houses because there was light in the room—not a very bright light, but one coming from a table lamp with a bulb of few watts. What might have made the room even livelier was the presence of a human body, for a young man lay sleeping on the couch. He had nothing to cover himself with, and his clothing was completely intact, so he might have fallen asleep there on accident.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            Brendon was on a tight schedule, so he went directly for the Christmas tree, dragging along his sac. He kneeled down to dig his hands in the bag and took out a few sheets of paper, each behind one another. He was about to check the names of the people in the household, when he was suddenly attacked. A darting arm locked his neck and pulled him back, making him struggle for breath. He attempted with both hands to pull down the arm that was choking him, but the result was almost useless.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “You think I’m stupid? You think you’re gonna fool me with your little red suit?” said a voice behind him.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            Brendon used a bit of the breath he had left to plead for his life. “Let me go!”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “I know you’re trying to burglarize my house, you little twit! But I won’t let that happen!” said the man strangling Brendon.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “I’m not!” Brendon said. His words were hardly comprehensible. “I swear! Please!”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            The man didn’t loosen his grip. “Who are you, then? What do you want?”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Ef!” was all Brendon was able to say.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “What?”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Elf!” he said this time, running out of air. He reached for his red, Santa hat and took it off. Exposed were his dark brown hair and his large, pointy ears.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            The man let go of Brendon, allowing him to take a big gasp for air. “You’re an elf?” he asked. He was more composed now.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Yes,” Brendon said, still hyperventilating. He turned around to look at his close-to-be murdered; it was the man that had been sleeping on the couch earlier. His hair was a little messy, and his eyes a bit sluggish. By the way Brendon was being strangled, he hadn’t expected the man to be so gaunt.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “I thought elves were supposed to be short,” the man said.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Humans are tall, some are short. It’s the same with us,” Brendon explained.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Well, what are you doing here?”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “I’m giving out all the Christmas presents. Santa’s really sick this year, so he couldn’t do it himself. They chose me because I’m one of the big elves, and the job wouldn’t be as hard as it would for a regular elf.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Oh. Sorry, man. It’s just that you looked too thin to be Santa, and I thought you were a robber.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah, I understand.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Hey, does this get me in the naughty list? I mean, I almost kill Santa’s helper.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            Brendon chuckled. “No. It was an honest mistake. Let’s see.” He reached for the papers he had taken out of the sac and looked over them. “You must be Ryan Ross; is that correct?”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            The man nodded.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            Brendon went through his sac once again and took out a present shaped as a cube and wrapped in red and green paper, topped with a big, red bow. “This is for you. Merry Christmas,” said Brendon, handing him the box.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Thanks,” said Ryan. He placed the gift under the Christmas tree.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Well, I better get going,” said Brendon. He got up, put on his hat, and grabbed his sac.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “No, wait, don’t leave yet. I want to make up for what I did.” He stood up as well.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “There’s no need, really. Plus I have to deliver all these presents; I can’t stay.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Please, allow me. You want a cup of hot cocoa? I’ve got enough got the both of us. What’s your name?”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Brendon. But…”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Brendon, don’t leave. I’ll be right back.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “No, I…” But it was too late because Ryan had already walked into the kitchen. Brendon didn’t want to be rude, so he sat on the stand next to the brick chimney and waited for him. Soon after, Ryan entered the living room with a cup of hot chocolate in each hand. He gave one to Brendon at the same time that he sat down next to him, leaving in between them a distance of about a foot and a half. “Thank you,” said Brendon, and he took a sip.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “It’s the least I could do.” He drank from his cup. “So what’s the North Pole like?”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Lots of snow. Cold.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            Ryan chuckled. “He he, okay.” He took another sip as he thought of what to say next. “You know, I always knew elves were cute, but I didn’t know they were as cute as you.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            Brendon turned to him with a surprised but happy expression. “Are you flirting with me?” he asked as he grinned. It sounded playful but threatening.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            Ryan smiled and raised his eyebrows, taking in the threat. “A little bit,” he said between a giggle.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “I’m leaving now.” Brendon got up, supposedly insulted, and grabbed his sac.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Tell Santa to send you next year.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He got inside the chimney, one hand holding the sac and the other his hat. Ryan stopped him, pulling him down by the coat. He pulled his head to him and gave him a kiss. When they came apart, Brendon looked at Ryan with a sideways smile. “What was that?” he asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

            Ryan pointed up. His eyes and Brendon’s followed, looking at the top of the chimney where there was mistletoe hanging. They looked at each other and smiled again. Brendon went back inside the chimney and began climbing up. Ryan stayed where he was, sitting and smiling to himself. Then Brendon returned and turned Ryan’s shoulder, grabbed his face, and kissed him. “Bye,” he said with a grin and climbed up the chimney again.


Author's Notes: <\/strong>Here's my Christmas special. I don't like the name, but I couldn't think of anything. Oh, well. Happy Holidays!<\/span><\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

 <\/p>

 <\/p>

 <\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:3578","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/3578.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=3578"}}],"title":"I Love You--or Something Like That (2\/2)","published":"2009-12-28T04:41:28Z","updated":"2010-06-07T18:15:24Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"smut"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"school"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"other bands\/characters"}}],"content":"Title:<\/strong> I Love You--or Something Like That
Author:<\/b> \"[info]\"<\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a>
<\/span>Rating:<\/b> PG-13
Pairing:<\/b> Rydon
POV:<\/b> Third
Summary:<\/b> Ryan has to prove himself the Casanova everyone says he is.
Disclaimer:<\/b> This is completely fictional. I do not own anything or anyone, except for the story.
Beta:<\/b> \"[info]\"<\/a>o_melody_nelson<\/b><\/a>
<\/span>Author Notes:<\/b> After the story



            Sometime in the middle of the night, Ryan was peacefully sleeping in the comfort of his bed. His dreams soon took him to that same bed, but virtually—in his mind. He lay down on the bed, and someone else lay on top of him. It was another boy, and they were both shirtless. They kissed with such great passion that their hard breathing could be heard. The intensity of the dream woke Ryan up. He was breathing almost the same way he was in his dream.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

            “Are you seriously gonna go through that just to prove yourself to Pete?” asked Zack.<\/span><\/p>

            “How do you manage to live with yourself?” asked Shane.<\/span><\/p>

            “How will you get him to fuck you?” Spencer wanted to know.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan felt a little pressured from all the interviewing. “I’ll do whatever is necessary. All I know is that this isn’t a stupid challenge anymore. Ever since that kiss, I can’t sleep at night. I just have to know what it’s like to do it with a guy,” Ryan confessed.<\/span><\/p>

            “And the big man turned gay,” Pete butted in. He said this with serenity, but in a tone quite burlesque.<\/span><\/p>

            “I’m not gay. This whole thing just got me so damn curious.”<\/span><\/p>

            “So you’re… bi?” asked Jon.<\/span><\/p>

            “No! It’s just curiosity! You guys never felt curious or something?”<\/span><\/p>

            Nobody said anything.<\/span><\/p>

            “Guys. Guys, don’t leave me hanging.” Ryan ran his eyes around the table, waiting for an answer.<\/span><\/p>

            “Uh, I gotta get to class,” said Zack tensely. He got up with his tray of food.<\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah, me too,” said Spencer in the same way.<\/span><\/p>

            Everyone else followed and left.<\/span><\/p>

            “Good luck with that,” said Pete to Ryan before leaving.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

            Friday afternoon, Ryan waited for Brendon again. Once he saw through his window that Brendon was arriving with his backpack on, he hurried out the door. Brendon spotted him and walked a little faster, then Ryan walked faster, then Brendon started whizzing, then Ryan whizzed too until he blocked the entrance to Brendon’s house.<\/span><\/p>

            “Move,” Brendon commanded molest.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan disobeyed. “Listen. About the other day—I’m sorry. I know that was too precipitated. What do you say we start over?” He smiled.<\/span><\/p>

            “Nice try, but move,” Brendon repeated himself. His tone and facial expression had not changed.<\/span><\/p>

            “I know what you think of me, but it’s not true.”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon put his hands inside his pants pockets.<\/span><\/p>

            “I like you a lot, and I just couldn’t stop myself,” Ryan continued. His words sounded pretty sincere. For even more emphasis, he touched Brendon’s cheek with the back of his fingers and left his hand there. “I think you’re really cute and a good person. I wouldn’t like to lose the chance of having something special with you just because of a mistake I made.” Ryan ceased his talking and looked at Brendon as if under a spell.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon, looking down and to his side, still seemed annoyed, but he allowed Ryan to touch him as he pleased.<\/span><\/p>

            “What do you say?” Ryan spoke again.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon didn’t look up. “If I say I’ll think about it, will you move?”<\/span><\/p>

            Moving closer to him, and without a single move from Brendon, Ryan said in his ear, “Sure,” and he gently kissed Brendon on the cheek before going back to his house.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

            Jon was looking directly at Ryan. “You’re willing to date him just to sleep with him?”<\/span><\/p>

            “I’ve done that before, haven’t I?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah, but this is a guy we’re talking about. It’s not the same. Don’t you feel uncomfortable?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Well, yeah, it is<\/i> different. But I told you guys how badly I want this. It can’t be that bad to be his boyfriend for a while, right?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Whatever you say,” answered Jon.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

            A few suns and moons after Ryan last had seen Brendon, his doorbell rang. Ryan’s mom got the door, and Brendon stood outside looking at her.<\/span><\/p>

            “Is Ryan home?” he asked.<\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah. Who are you?” she asked kindly.<\/span><\/p>

            “I’m Brendon, your neighbor.”<\/span><\/p>

            “I’ll tell him you’re here.” Ryan’s mom went to his room and knocked on his door. “Ryan, a boy named Brendon is looking for you.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan dashingly opened the door and walked to the main door where Brendon stood. Ryan took him outside and closed the door to get some privacy—well, privacy from his mom.<\/span><\/p>

            “Are you here to bring me good news?” Ryan asked.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon nodded, and his right cheek rose a little due to a forced, tiny smile.<\/span><\/p>

            A beam of true joy filled Ryan’s face. He hugged Brendon around the neck awhile. Breathing in the scent of Brendon’s hair and skin, feeling their chests against each other’s, Ryan became aroused. He pulled away before it got too far and made him do anything that might ruin everything. “You want to come inside?”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon nodded again. The boys walked inside to Ryan’s room.<\/span><\/p>

            “What do you want to do? This time for reals,” Ryan said.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon smiled to his playful remark. “I don’t know. What can we do?”<\/span><\/p>

            “We could… We could play a videogame, watch a movie—I don’t know.”<\/span><\/p>

            “A movie’s fine,” Brendon said.<\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah, okay. What d’you wanna watch?” Ryan kneeled down next to the movies under the TV set.<\/span><\/p>

            “Whatever. I like Disney movies.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Okay. I got lots of those.” Ryan picked out a movie from the neatly stacked row of DVDs. He fed it to the DVD player and sat on his bed next to Brendon. They sat all the way to the back so as to have their backs against the wall and their legs stretched forward. Ryan got up to close the blinds so that the room was darker. The movie was starting, and Ryan sat back with Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

            After watching for a few minutes, neither of the boys had done or said anything. Ryan was the first to act when he raised his arm to place it on Brendon’s shoulders. Brendon looked at him, and Ryan quickly retreated.<\/span><\/p>

            “If you don’t like it, I’m cool with that.”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon didn’t say anything. Instead, he rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan let his arm fall softly on Brendon’s shoulders again.<\/span><\/p>

            “Maybe next time we could go to the actual movies,” suggested Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            “That would be nice.”<\/span><\/p>

            They kept their current positions throughout the rest of the movie. At the end, they said their goodbyes, and Brendon left the house and went back to his own.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

            “Aww. I can just picture the two of you cuddling with each other. How cute,” scoffed Brent.<\/span><\/p>

            “Shut up. You don’t know what it’s like to have to hug a faggot during a whole Disney movie.”<\/span><\/p>

            “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jon said to mock Brent.<\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah, right,” said Brent.<\/span><\/p>

            “Well,” said Pete, “even if you guys already ‘made up,’ this isn’t over until you put your penis up his…”<\/span><\/p>

            “Okay, Pete! We get it! We don’t need a visual,” interrupted Shane.<\/span><\/p>

            “I just hope Brendon gives in soon to get this over with.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

            Ryan continued his sham romance with Brendon for some time. He had become more and more obsessed with the idea of sleeping with Brendon. Several nights he dreamt of having gay intercourse or at least gay foreplay. The slow progress being made turned Ryan frustrated. His friends advised him to do it with someone else from school, but Ryan knew that the word would spread, and his reputation would be ruined. Besides, the rule was that Ryan had to sleep with Brendon specifically, and Ryan knew that Pete would never get off his case if he failed to do so. Ryan had no option but to follow the plan.<\/span><\/p>

            The movies, the park, the arcade—Ryan used every setting he knew from experience with his girlfriends. Brendon had enjoyed every moment he spent with Ryan, wherever it was they were. He even accepted whatever Ryan asked of him. Once, the topic of meeting family members came up, but Ryan used the excuse that his family didn’t know he was gay, and he was afraid of rejection, so their relationship should be kept secret for a while more. Brendon understood and agreed to keep it all hidden.<\/span><\/p>

            Despite all the time they had been dating and the affection Brendon felt for Ryan, he never seemed to show any interest in doing more than kiss and hold hands. Ryan waited for a sign—a look, a touch, a word—anything<\/i> that might suggest Brendon was prepared. However, that sign never came. Ryan tried groping from time to time, but Brendon always took his pleading hands and moved them to a less provocative place. Ryan was desperate.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

            One decisive evening, while Ryan and Brendon were alone at Ryan’s house, Ryan spoke up. He would make Brendon his that night, and that was that. “Brendon?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Hm?” Brendon said from his side of the couch. He was lying down with hands on his neck and feet crossed one on top of the other.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan was laying the same way, except his hands were on his chest, his fingers laced together. “Remember the first day we sat on this couch?”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon turned to Ryan and sat up. “About that—there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan looked at him without moving anything but his head. “Do you want to go first?”<\/span><\/p>

            “I don’t know if I should.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan decided to go first and fixed his eyes on the ceiling. “Brendon, I… I don’t know if you think it’s convenient. I don’t know if it’s okay at this point. I like you. I would do anything for you. I think you’re amazing. I’ve explored every aspect of you—well, except, you know. I think, um…”<\/span><\/p>

            “I want you, Ryan,” Brendon cut him off.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan moved his eyes to look at Brendon. He pushed himself up and stared at the boy in front of him. “Huh?” Ryan’s heart began pumping faster, and he could feel the pressure in his throat. He swallowed before Brendon replied.<\/span><\/p>

            “I’ve been wanting to tell you lately that I want to do it with you. I can’t resist it. I need you.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan swallowed again, thicker this time. He felt a tickling sensation in his stomach, wrists, and multiple other parts of his body, some more than others. “You…” He cleared his throat because his voice had come out high-pitched. “You want to?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Yes.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Right now?”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon left the part of the couch that had become warm from his body heat, and he walked over to Ryan. He sat with him side to side, their legs touching. Inclining toward Ryan’s ear and squeezing his thigh, Brendon whispered, “Right now.”<\/span><\/p>

            That second, Ryan held back his breath. He felt his pants stretching as an erection took place. He couldn’t do anything—move or speak. It was hard enough to breathe. Then he felt on his ear the hot air coming from Brendon’s nose and the wet bites from his teeth and tongue. Ryan closed his eyes, let his head rest back, and released a quiet but deep sigh.<\/span><\/p>

            “Let’s go to your room,” Brendon said softly.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan didn’t open his eyes or change his position. “Huh?” was all he said with his idiot face.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon got up and dragged Ryan along to the bedroom. Ryan walked, but he couldn’t feel his legs. After Brendon closed and locked the door, Ryan kissed him as passionately as he had never done to him before. His hand then ran from Brendon’s chest down to his pants, where Ryan felt Brendon’s hard on. The both of them moaned at the same time.<\/span><\/p>

            “Fuck me, Brendon,” Ryan asked with his uneven breath.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

            6:30 AM. The ground was covered with crumbled pieces of clothing and plastic condom wrappers. A repetitive beeping sound was omitted by Ryan’s alarm, growing in volume every time. Lying on his stomach, Ryan groaned, and his arm flew to the alarm clock to hit the snooze button. A hand touched his shoulder, making it jerk in surprise. Then Ryan remembered he hadn’t spent the night alone. He turned over, facing the figure next to him. Brendon was smiling, and he began to rub Ryan’s chest as if smoothly applying lotion to it.<\/span><\/p>

            “I loved it,” said Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan smiled. “Me too,” he admitted.<\/span><\/p>

            “I love you.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Me too,” he lied.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

            “Guess who I woke up with this morning,” Ryan said in a slow pace to create drama.<\/span><\/p>

            His friends became stunned, eyes wide open. They smiled to show their disbelief, except for Pete, who simply turned to Ryan with a perplexed expression.<\/span><\/p>

            “Dude, no way!” said some.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan crossed his arms and reclined on his chair. He looked at them with a smirk of satisfaction and superiority. “Yup. Last night,” slight pause, “was amazing.” He turned to address Pete. “Well, it looks like I won. Are you convinced now that I am the ultimate master of lust?”<\/span><\/p>

            Pete had a sort of crooked pout as he stared at Ryan. “No, I am not yet convinced. Who says this Brendon isn’t fake?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Oh, my God, Pete. Let it go!” said Zack.<\/span><\/p>

            “Who says you didn’t make this all up? Huh?”<\/span><\/p>

            “So you made me go through this whole thing for this fucking long only to deny it all at the end because of lack of proof?” Ryan said irritated.<\/span><\/p>

            “It shouldn’t be that hard to get proof. You’re already at the end of his strings. All you need to do is repeat last night and get the evidence.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Pete, stop being a bitch and leave Ryan alone,” said Spencer.<\/span><\/p>

            “And how do you expect me to prove it?” Ryan asked.<\/span><\/p>

            “You could show me personally. Hide me in your closet.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Are you sick?! I’m not gonna let you watch me have sex!” Ryan seemed disgusted.<\/span><\/p>

            “Seriously, Pete,” said Zack.<\/span><\/p>

            Pete resumed explaining. “You don’t have to do it. You can just make him recall your first time and then fake a phone call from your mom or something.” It was as though Pete had this whole plot already made up in his mind as a back-up plan.<\/span><\/p>

            “You’re serious about this?”<\/span><\/p>

            Pete nodded.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan pondered awhile. “Fine. Have it your way. Again.”<\/span><\/p>

            Pete smirked, thinking about his power.<\/span><\/p>

            “You have a very devious, cunning mind, you know that?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Thank you.”


<\/span><\/p>

            A few days later, when Ryan was home alone, he called Pete to come to the house. Pete made sure to bring his cell phone to make the intrusive call that would make Ryan call off the scene. Once Pete was settled inside Ryan’s closet and had been given a rigid speech of not messing up, Ryan phoned Brendon to come over. Pete listened as they entered the room and made themselves comfortable on the bed. They had been talking all the way from the living room.<\/span><\/p>

            “It’s cool. I wasn’t doing anything important. I was getting bored, actually,” said Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

            “Good, then. Hey, I know what we could do to kill boredom,” Ryan said with a seductive smile.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon understood, and he smirked back the same way. “Okay,” he said. He leaned his head forward to kiss Ryan. It was a simple kiss with merely lip connection. Ryan made sure to make it noisy so that Pete could hear. Brendon gave Ryan a few more of those.<\/span><\/p>

            “What did you like most about the other day?” Ryan asked.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon kept smooching, now with his hand holding Ryan’s neck. “I loved everything,” he said in a tone that was already sexy. “I loved the way you kissed, the way you moaned, the way you said my name. I loved your gestures, your torso, your hard cock.” He said this followed by a rub over Ryan’s growing erection.<\/span><\/p>

            Pete, meanwhile, pushed back his laughter. He peeked through the narrow space between the closet door and the wall. Brendon’s back was turned to the closet, while Ryan was able to see Pete’s eyes spying. Just as Brendon began to French-kiss Ryan, a rap song of low sound quality suddenly played from the inside of the closet. Pete struggled to get his phone to shut up. Brendon stopped on his tracks and looked strangely at Ryan. “What was that?”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan frowned and shut his eyes tightly. “Pete, you’re so stupid!” he shouted.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon got off the bed and slid the closet door open. He found Pete sitting on the ground and looking up at him. “Who is this? What’s going on?” Brendon demanded to know.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan was speechless.<\/span><\/p>

            Pete sat up. “Come on, Ryan. Tell him what’s going on.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan knew what it looked like, but it wasn’t true. Then again, the truth wasn’t much better than this. “Brendon, please…”<\/span><\/p>

            “You’re cheating on me? How could you?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Let me explain. I… He’s just…”<\/span><\/p>

            “I’m who he truly loves, that’s who I am,” Pete chimed in. He stepped by Ryan and hugged him by the neck.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan pushed him off in disgust. “What?!”<\/span><\/p>

            “Is that true?” Brendon asked furious.<\/span><\/p>

            “No, Brendon, I… I love you! He’s out of his mind!”<\/span><\/p>

            “That’s not what you said last night!” protested Pete.<\/span><\/p>

            “No… Wait… He…”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon didn’t let him finish. He punched Ryan as forcefully as he could, causing him to turn his head and part of his body around. A bleeding cut magically appeared on Ryan’s lip. Brendon walked out of the room, shut the door closed, and left the house. All Ryan could feel was the pulsing bruise on his mouth and a fierce rage for Pete, who was laughing loudly. “Wow. That was fun! Let’s do it again!”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan pushed Pete with both arms. “You dumb fuck! You ruined everything! He’s not fucking coming back!”<\/span><\/p>

            “Wait. Don’t tell me… Don’t tell me you fell in love with him,” Pete said a little concerned.<\/span><\/p>

            “No! But he was fucking hot in bed! Now where am I gonna find another guy, huh?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Well, you’re here, and I’m here, and Brendon’s gone…” Pete said viciously. He got cautiously closer to Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            “Shut up.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Hey, look on the bright side: You won!”<\/span><\/p>

            “Oh, thank you. That makes things better.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Look on the other bright side: You were able to do it at least once.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan kept silent, observing nothing in particular. Maybe Pete was right.<\/span><\/p>

            “Now, if you look at the negative side—you have to live next door to what tempts you so badly for a very long time.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan turned to Pete and stared him silently in the eyes for a short amount of time before responding, “Fuck you, Pete.”
<\/span>


Author's Notes:<\/b> So neither I nor my beta was completely satisfied with this, but I'm going to leave it like that while I improve on my writing skills.

Changing the topic, this fic started as a mere title, and the plot was developed around it. I hope you enjoyed reading the longest fic I've written so far!

By the way, do you guys like my new icon? (The "ANYTHING" icon) Haha, I made it myself!


Update: <\/strong>Read the sequel, "<\/u>'I Love it' is More Precise<\/u><\/a>."<\/u>
 <\/p><\/a>
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Author:<\/b> <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Rating:<\/b> PG-13
Pairing:<\/b> Rydon
POV:<\/b> Third
Summary:<\/b> Ryan has to prove himself the Casanova everyone says he is.
Disclaimer:<\/b> This is completely fictional. I do not own anything or anyone, except for the story.
Beta:<\/b> <\/a>o_melody_nelson<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Author Notes:<\/b> After the story



            Well, of course Ryan was a total ladies man. He might not have been as romantic as a Shakespeare or as strong as a Hercules or as smart as an Einstein, but he was every girl’s dream. There was not a single girl in his high school that didn’t find him incredibly sexy. Sure, his skinny features and his delicate face sometimes made him look like a girl—a pretty<\/i> girl. <\/span>But even so, looking a little feminine didn’t make him any less attractive to the female students from school. He was simply as hot as the roaring flames from Hell. <\/span><\/p>

            He might have come from there, too. This boy did not know the meaning of the word “moral,” and if you were to take a dictionary and read it to him, he probably would have died of torture just like an evil spirit would if you read a quote from the Bible. Everyone at school knew that Ryan was a player, a two-timer, a one-night-stand man, and so on. Not even he himself could count how many hearts he had broken in his life, especially because he didn’t care. Nonetheless, every girl wanted him and was willing to risk her heart just to win Ryan’s. You always hoped to be the one he would fall in love with and the one that would change him into a good man. This never actually happened. Ryan had any girl he wanted, and she always ended up in tears.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

            So there he was now, sitting at the lunch table with his other guy friends. These were the ones he was closest to. They always sat at this green, round table inside the school cafeteria. The table was big enough for eight, perhaps, but only the six of them sat there. Ryan, in his tight black jeans and black t-shirt, was listening to the conversation.<\/span><\/p>

            “Turns out she has a boyfriend,” stated one of Ryan’s friends—Pete.<\/span><\/p>

            “And you expected a girl like her to be single? She’s got every guy eating from her palm,” said Spencer.<\/span><\/p>

            “You never know,” Pete responded. “But, hey, maybe I could steal her.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Ha!” exclaimed Brent. “You think she’s gonna fall to you? Keep dreaming.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Well, it’s not like any of you guys have a better chance than me,” Pete protested.<\/span><\/p>

            “You’re talking to the man who sleeps with three girls on the same night, bro,” said Jon as he patted Ryan on the shoulder.<\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah, man. You underestimate me,” Ryan followed along.<\/span><\/p>

            “Oh, c’mon. You can’t be all that. You must have an ending point,” Pete argued.<\/span><\/p>

            “Nah, nah, nah. Look. Ryan has any girl she wants. Period. He’s invincible,” Zack said in defense of Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            “Oh, yeah?” Pete said daringly. “Well, that’s girls. If you were that great, you would get girls and<\/i> guys.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. That’s another story,” said Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            “No, really. Why don’t you prove to us that you’re as good as you say you are? Get yourself a guy, and tell us how it goes.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan was smiling in disbelief. “Man, you’re serious?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Sure.”<\/span><\/p>

            Everyone at the table was looking at Ryan with giant grins. They were eager to hear his response.<\/span><\/p>

            After taking a second to think about it, Ryan stated, “Fine. I’ll do it.” The boys laughed and let out long ‘oo’s and ‘oh’s. “But you can’t tell anyone<\/i>, aw’right?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah, whatever. We won’t tell,” Pete spoke for everyone.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

            The next day was a Saturday. Ryan was the kind of person that stayed at home most of the time, and even on weekends, he didn’t go out much. It was currently noon, and the day was as clear and warm as any other day during the spring. Even so, Ryan stayed inside listening to music. An order from his mom made him go outside and get the mail.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan approached the mailbox and hoped a report card would not be there. As he opened the lid to get the mail out, he noticed that his next-door neighbor, whose name he still did not know, was playing basketball by himself. The sound of the ball bouncing on the ground and hitting the net-less hoop over and over made it impossible not to notice he was there. Ryan could see as the boy made one shot after the other, never missing the target. Ryan ignored him like he always did and started back for the door. He soon halted when the basketball bounced to his feet. He picked up the ball and turned to face his neighbor, who was coming to get his ball back.<\/span><\/p>

            This teenage boy was pretty good-looking and seemed like a nice person. Although Ryan didn’t think too much about it, he couldn’t help but notice how a geeky guy like that could be attractive as well.<\/span><\/p>

            “Sorry,” he said as he walked closer to Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            “No problem,” he said, and he handed back the ball. “You’re kinda good,” he cared to compliment.<\/span><\/p>

            The boy looked down at the ball in his hands and smiled from the corner of his mouth. He looked up at Ryan, who was watching him blush. The boy erased his smile and looked back down. “Um, thanks,” he said. Ryan grew curious at the way he had become shy so easily. The boy turned his head to look at his right, where there was nothing but more houses. “Um, okay, bye,” he said awkwardly without making eye contact with Ryan. He walked back to his house and left Ryan behind. Ryan smirked to himself at the same time that he tapped the mail to his palm and checked out the boy’s nice ass.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

            On Monday morning, Ryan sat again with his friends during lunch. Of course they wanted an update on his mission.<\/span><\/p>

            “So how’s it going with your gay love quest?” asked Shane.<\/span><\/p>

            “Mmm, I found someone.” He said this in the most casual <\/span>way possible.<\/span><\/p>

            Taken by surprise, the boys took a break from eating to observe Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            “Who?” asked Spencer.<\/span><\/p>

            “It’s this kid from my neighborhood. I think he has a crush on me. So I guess I won already.”<\/span><\/p>

            “No, no, wait,” said Pete defensively. “That’s not fair. The guy already liked you.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Well, isn’t that what you wanted? You wanted me to prove to you that I’m irresistible to girls and guys, and there it is.”<\/span><\/p>

            “No. What I wanted was for you to make a guy like you. You didn’t do that, because the guy already liked you. That doesn’t count.”<\/span><\/p>

            “That just comes to show you that I got him without even trying,” Ryan explained.<\/span><\/p>

            The rest of the boys listened attentively to the argument as they ate.<\/span><\/p>

            “Nah, that’s not enough,” complained Pete. “At least get him to sleep with you.”<\/span><\/p>

            Spencer nearly choked on his food when he heard Pete’s request. Shane hit Spencer’s back repeatedly to help his food slide down his throat.<\/span><\/p>

            “What?!” Ryan demanded. “That wasn’t part of the deal!”<\/span><\/p>

            “You have it easy if you don’t do anything,” said Pete. “Now the challenge is to make him do what you want.”<\/span><\/p>

            “You’re crazy!”<\/span><\/p>

            Spencer joined the conversation. “Pete, this is worse than the time you uploaded that video of Shane.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Oh, you mean the one from the party at Patrick’s?” Pete said with a grin. “Yeah, that was a good one, huh?”<\/span><\/p>

            “You still have to pay for that,” Shane said, resentful.<\/span><\/p>

            “Listen to me, you little bastard,” Ryan continued. “I’m not doing that with a dude, okay? I’d rather stick to your first idea and make someone else like me.”<\/span><\/p>

            “No, this is more fun,” said Pete.<\/span><\/p>

            “But the point was…!”<\/span><\/p>

            “The point was, persuade someone with your ‘charm.’ Now the deal is, get the guy in bed.”<\/span><\/p>

            “That’s not fair! You changed the deal!”<\/span><\/p>

            “Well, okay, you can do what you want. But if you were that great, you would easily get him to sleep with you. I guess maybe you doubt your own abilities,” Pete said trying to manipulate Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            And, it was working. “Wait, that’s not true. That’s not why I’m not doing it.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Then do it,” Pete challenged him.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan referred to his friends. “C’mon, back me up! You guys know I’m right, right?!”<\/span><\/p>

            “Sorry, man. We know better than to fuck with Pete,” said Brent.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan felt the pressure of Pete’s accusations and the boys’ eyes. Never in his life had he considered having sexual relations with someone of the same gender. Yet, Pete was being extremely irritating. “I’ll do it so you can eat your words,” Ryan said between his teeth, sending Pete a stare that could easily kill.<\/span><\/p>

            Zack, smiling, said to Ryan, “Dude, you lost it.”<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

            A couple of hours had passed, and Ryan was now in his house. He could hear that his neighbor was outside playing with his basketball again. He stepped out of the house into the faded light of dusk. The sunset laid a pink-orange sheet on the sky. It was slightly chilly, but neither of the boys wore anything over their shirts. Ryan moved slowly across the wall as he watched the boy shoot the ball repetitively. The boy glanced at Ryan once or twice; other than that, he continued without interruption. When Ryan was at the end of the wall, he stopped and leaned on it. He crossed his arms and placed one ankle on top of the other.<\/span><\/p>

            “Can I help you?” the boy finally said while holding the ball.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan smiled deviously as he spoke. “No, I just wanted to see you shoot. As I said before, you’re good.”<\/span><\/p>

            The boy resumed his practicing.<\/span><\/p>

            “You know, I just realized I don’t know your name,” said Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            “It’s Brendon,” he said.<\/span><\/p>

            “Oh. Well, I’m Ryan.”<\/span><\/p>

            “I know,” said Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

            The evening was becoming darker and darker by the minute. Ryan observed the boy as if studying his every move. Brendon only saw him from the corner of his eyes, but he could feel Ryan watching him. It was an intimidating sensation, one that makes people self-conscious and clumsy.<\/span><\/p>

            “Hey, you think you can teach me how to shoot? I kind of suck,” Ryan asked.<\/span><\/p>

            “Um, sure,” said Brendon.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan stepped into the cement that made up Brendon’s empty parking space and stood in front of him. Brendon showed him how to hold the ball.<\/span><\/p>

            “You need to hold it like this, with your strong arm bent at 90 degrees.”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon simulated the throw to demonstrate how it was done, and then he actually did it after Ryan had nodded that he understood. Brendon got the ball back and threw it to Ryan; only he failed to catch the ball and had to run to the street to get it. When he returned and shot the ball, it hit the hoop and didn’t make it in. Brendon ran after the ball and came back with it.<\/span><\/p>

            “Okay, look. When you shoot, bend your wrist like this.”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon shot the ball again to make his point. When it was Ryan‘s turn, he missed again.<\/span><\/p>

            “You’re doing fine. Just try it again.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan focused his sight on the tarnished backboard and shot again. He missed. Brendon went after the ball again.<\/span><\/p>

            “I’m doing it all wrong, aren’t I?” admitted Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            “No, it’s just… It takes practice.”<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan seemed a little down. “Whatever. I mean, you’re just so good at it. I’m just a total failure.” He lowered his head.<\/span><\/p>

            “Don’t say that,” Brendon said encouragingly. “I’m telling you—all you need is effort.”<\/span><\/p>

            “You think so?” he said peeking up at Brendon as he kept his head low. “Because that really means a lot to me coming from a talented person like you.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah, of course.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Well, could you show me how to do it? Because I feel all awkward when I throw.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Well, okay, um…” Brendon looked back and forth from the ball to Ryan as if thinking of what he was going to do. He gave the ball to Ryan and stepped behind him. He took both of Ryan’s arms and positioned them the right way as best as he could. Brendon put his hands on top of Ryan’s to manage them correctly, and he helped him shoot the ball. When the basketball left Ryan’s hands, both boys froze as they watched it fly to the hoop. It missed again.<\/span><\/p>

            As the ball bounced on the ground, Brendon still held Ryan’s hands with his. Ryan turned his head around and looked at Brendon with a tempting smile. His eyes shifted from Brendon’s eyes to his mouth back and forth. Brendon stood there almost hypnotized. An inner force tried to push him forward, but he fought it just in time. He quit looking at Ryan and took a step back hurriedly.<\/span><\/p>

            “That was good. You just need practice. Um, I better go inside now.” The night sky was nearly black already.<\/span><\/p>

            “Okay, then. See ya.”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon grabbed his basketball and entered his house. Ryan went back to his own house.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

            “What? Did you sleep with him yet?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Not yet! Don’t be so impatient!” Ryan answered Jon.<\/span><\/p>

            “Well, what are you waiting for?”<\/span><\/p>

            “You think this is something I want to do?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Guys, give Ryan time,” said Zack. “He has to prepare himself psychologically. He meditates every night and pictures it all in his mind so that he can be ready.” Everyone laughed. Everyone, except Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            “Not funny, Zack. This Brendon guy is gonna cause me a life-long trauma. This is all your fault, Pete.”<\/span><\/p>

            Pete just smiled to himself.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

            It was Wednesday now. Ryan was waiting for Brendon to come home from school. When he saw him coming, Ryan went outside to greet his new ‘friend.’<\/span><\/p>

            “Hey, Brendon!” called Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon stopped walking when Ryan was in front of him.<\/span><\/p>

            “Hi,” Ryan said with a warm smile.<\/span><\/p>

            “Hi,” Brendon said back.<\/span><\/p>

            “Um, are you busy? Do you have things to do?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Uh, I have homework.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Why don’t you come over to my house when you’re done?”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon thought about it. He didn’t look too sure. “Um, okay. I’ll be there in about two hours.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Okay. I’ll see you, then.”<\/span><\/p>

            Two and a half hours later, Ryan’s doorbell rang. He opened the door, and Brendon was at the other side of it.<\/span><\/p>

            “Come in.”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon entered the house, and Ryan told him to take a seat. He offered him something from the kitchen, but Brendon didn’t want anything. Ryan got himself a can of soda.<\/span><\/p>

            “So how you doin’?” Ryan asked him.<\/span><\/p>

            “I’m fine. You?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Oh, yeah, I’m fine too.” There was a short pause. Ryan stood at the end of the couch. “So what do you want to do?”<\/span><\/p>

            “I don’t know. You invited me.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Yes, but you’re the guest.”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon didn’t know what to say. Ryan sat close to him and set his soda on the table that was in the middle of the living room.<\/span><\/p>

            “Are you always this quiet?” Ryan asked.<\/span><\/p>

            “Most of the time.”<\/span><\/p>

            “You shy?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Yeah.”<\/span><\/p>

            “With everyone?’<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon wasn’t looking at Ryan. “No, I’m pretty quiet around everyone.”<\/span><\/p>

            “But do you feel particularly shy around me?”<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon looked down at his own lap and didn’t answer him. Ryan moved closer to Brendon so that they were practically touching bodies.<\/span><\/p>

            “Huh?” insisted Ryan.<\/span><\/p>

            He leaned forward to get a better look at Brendon’s face. Still, Brendon kept avoiding his eyes. From that position, Ryan moved his head toward Brendon’s with one quick movement and kissed him in the mouth. The kiss was slow and tender. Ryan obviously didn’t mean it this way, but he never did, so it was a natural thing for him to pretend. He made Brendon turn his body toward Ryan and bend back in an obtuse angle; the boys supported themselves with their hands on the seat. As they kissed, Ryan put his hand on Brendon’s thigh and moved it very slowly upward. When it was close to Brendon’s crotch, Brendon ended the kiss by pushing Ryan a short distance away. Ryan froze and opened his eyes.<\/span><\/p>

            “What are you doing?” Brendon asked uneasy.<\/span><\/p>

            “I want you, Brendon,” said Ryan, and he kissed him again, more intensely this time.<\/span><\/p>

            Brendon shoved him away and stood up from the couch. “I’m leaving.”<\/span><\/p>

            “No, wait!” Ryan went after him. “Don’t! C’mon! Why?”<\/span><\/p>

            “We barely know each other’s names, and you already want to have sex with me?”<\/span><\/p>

            “Why? You don’t?”<\/span><\/p>

            “No!” Brendon spit out the word as if stating its obviousness.<\/span><\/p>

            “I thought you liked me.”<\/span><\/p>

            “I do! But you’re going way too far. I’m leaving now.” Brendon opened the door and left Ryan’s house.<\/span><\/p>

            Ryan was just too amazed and confused about what had just happened.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

            Everyone in the cafeteria turned to look at the table with the people laughing hysterically. It was Ryan’s table.<\/span><\/p>

            “He said no to you?!” asked Jon as he laughed.<\/span><\/p>

            “Shut up. It’s not funny.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Oh, it is<\/i> funny,” said Pete. “Mr. Casanova is not so charming after all.”<\/span><\/p>

            “Listen, the kid’s sick or something. He said I was going too far.”<\/span><\/p>

            Everyone burst out into even more laughter before Ryan could say anything else. People around the table kept asking themselves what was going on, but nobody had an answer.<\/span><\/p>

            “So, what, Ryan? You lost?” asked Pete.<\/span><\/p>            “No, I haven’t lost yet. I’ll make that kid…!” Ryan realized he was speaking too loud and lowered his voice. “I’ll make that kid go to bed with me, and he’s going to like it!”<\/span>



Author's Notes:<\/b> Read the rest of the story by clicking *here<\/a>*<\/a>
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Title:<\/strong> I'll Sing You a Lullaby, but I'm No Dreamcatcher
Author:<\/b> <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Rating:<\/b> PG
Pairing:<\/b> Rydon
POV:<\/b> Third
Summary:<\/b> Brendon lay down on the bed and turned his body toward Ryan. Now their bodies were touching, and Brendon could hear that Ryan was listening to heavy metal. Brendon put his arm around Ryan's waist. Still, Ryan didn't move. He stayed there staring at the wall, looking at nothing.<\/em>
Disclaimer:<\/b> Fictional. I don't own anything except for the story.
Beta:<\/b> Janette
Author Notes:<\/b> After the story



       They must believe, if only to free the mind, if not the body<\/em>, read Ryan from his book. They must believe, if only to free the mind, if not the body. They must believe, if only to free the mind... They must believe<\/em>... He read the same sentence over and over, out loud and in his own mind, but all Ryan heard and saw were scattered words without meaning. He could not focus. They must believe, if only to free the mind, if not the body.

~~~

<\/em>       Brendon opened the door to Ryan's room, and he found Ryan asleep at his desk. The lights were off except for the dim light that came from Ryan's lamp. He still held open a beige paperback book in his hand. Spread over his desk were used sheets of paper, worksheets, a notebook, and a folder. The textbooks lay around Ryan's feet.

       Brendon came closer and gave Ryan gentle pats on the back. Awakened, Ryan sat up and looked at Brendon with swollen eyes. Then he looked at his messy desk with a look of hopelessness. Brendon told him to get some rest. Ryan knew he couldn't. Brendon reminded him he needed it.

       He helped Ryan get up to take him to his bed, but instead, Ryan stood up and wrapped his arms around Brendon's neck, resting his head on Brendon's shoulder. Brendon hugged back while looking at the wall in front of him. 

~~~

       Brendon was let into Ryan's house again by his mom. When Brendon entered his room, Ryan was lying on his bed, his back turned toward the door. The only sound, faint and undistinguishable, was that coming from his earphones. Ryan didn't make a movement after Brendon had opened the door. Brendon closed the door behind him and sat at the edge of the bed. Ryan still had not moved. Brendon greeted Ryan without turning his head to look at him. Ryan didn't answer. Brendon asked if Ryan wanted him to leave, but again, there was no answer.

       Brendon lay down on the bed and turned his body toward Ryan. Now their bodies were touching, and Brendon could hear that Ryan was listening to heavy metal. Brendon put his arm around Ryan's waist. Still, Ryan didn't move. He stayed there staring at the wall, looking at nothing.

       Brendon told Ryan to forget about it. He said he knew how much Ryan missed him, but that he, Ryan, had to move on eventually. Brendon told Ryan that it would all be okay. Ryan didn't move or say anything. Brendon tried to take one of Ryan's earphones off, but Ryan didn't let him.

       "This is your fault," he said. "This is everyone's fault."

       Brendon told him it was nobody's fault.

       "It's his fault," Ryan said, lower this time.

       Brendon turned Ryan so that he was facing up. Ryan didn't look at him. Brendon kissed him, to which both of them closed their eyes. When Brendon ended the kiss and looked down at Ryan, he looked back up with watery eyes; it made Brendon teary as well. Ryan looked away and seemed to be holding back his tears. Brendon lay down to rest on Ryan's chest. He took one of Ryan's earphones off and whispered an 'I love you.' 

~~~

       It was midnight and Brendon was asleep in his bed. The sound of his cell phone woke him up; he had received a text message from Ryan.

       I can't sleep. I'm having nightmares.

       <\/em>Brendon rubbed his eyes and reluctantly got up. He put on a pair of tight blue jeans and a light blue t-shirt. He put on his tennis shoes; he didn't need to put socks because he was already wearing a pair. He put on a sweater, grabbed his phone, and left the house as quietly as he could, making sure that nobody would hear him.

       Once he was outside Ryan's house, he sent Ryan a text message to let him know he was there already. Wearing only his boxers, Ryan opened the door, and they both walked silently through the darkness of the house.

       Brendon closed the door when they were in Ryan's bedroom. Ryan went under the covers, exposing to the air only his head. Brendon followed and lay next to him under the covers after taking off his shoes and sweater. They were facing each other, and Brendon had his hand on Ryan's face, his thumb caressing his cheek. Their eyes were open, but they could barely see each other. Ryan asked for a goodnight kiss, which Brendon granted.

       After fifteen minutes, Brendon's eyes were beginning to close on their own. He asked if Ryan was asleep yet, but he wasn't. Ryan admitted he was still afraid to fall asleep, but Brendon assured him there was nothing to be afraid of if he was around.

       At four in the morning, Brendon woke up next to Ryan. He crept out of the bed and put back on his shoes and his sweater. He exited the house cautiously and entered his own the same way. 

~~~

       Ryan was sitting on Brendon's bed while Brendon was sitting on a chair he had placed in front of Ryan. Ryan was wet with tears, and his brown eyes were red around the edges. Brendon was holding Ryan's wrists with a firm grip. His eyes were fixed on Ryan, while Ryan's were looking down.

       Ryan said that if Brendon loved him, he would let him do it.

       Brendon said he loved him with all his heart, but he would not let him do something so stupid.

       Ryan told him that he was selfish, and that what he felt wasn't even love. He said Brendon was only interested in him because he wanted his body and someone that could help him with his school work.

       Brendon let go of one of Ryan's wrists to slap him hard on the face. His eyes showed rage from Ryan's words. Then he tried to compose himself. He let go completely of Ryan and rubbed his own face with his two palms.

       Ryan swiftly got up from the bed and ran to the bathroom. Brendon reacted immediately and tried to catch him. Having escaped Brendon's reach, Ryan locked himself in the bathroom. Brendon hit the door impatiently and asked Ryan to come out, but the door remained locked. There was no sound coming from the bathroom, and Brendon was beginning to panic. He kept hitting and hitting the door, but Ryan never came out.

       "Don't do it!" he would yell.

       His cries soon became shaky, and tears began to drop from his eyes. He tried turning the door knob as if it would magically open if he tried long enough. His attempts failed, and all he could do was curse frustrated to himself. Brendon stopped to hear what was going on, but everything was still silent. He was too stunned to do anything and began to sob.

       Then he got the idea of calling the police. He was about to go get his phone when suddenly he heard the click from the door knob unlocking. It took him a second to realize how great this was. Then the knob turned and Ryan opened the door. Brendon shifted a step forward to wrap Ryan in his arms. He demanded him not to do that ever again.

       Ryan explained that he couldn't stand Brendon's sobs and his desperate calls, and that's why he cowered. He also said he loved him.

       Brendon said he loved him too much. 

~~~

       Brendon was sitting on the couch of his living room while reading a book. The whole house was quiet and a little obscure. Ryan approached Brendon and sat next to him, holding his hand and reading over his shoulder.

       Turning his sight from the book, Brendon looked at their intertwined hands. A little bit was showing from Ryan's scars on his wrists, but they were nearly healed. Brendon moved his head to look at Ryan, and he looked back. He offered Ryan a friendly smile. Ryan smiled back, and Brendon could see a little shine in his eyes.

       This time, it wasn't tears.



Author's Notes: <\/strong>One of my emo pieces of work. The book Ryan's reading is supposed to be A Lesson Before Dying <\/em>by Ernest J. Gaines, since I was reading that and it made me kind of emotional, which made me write this fic. The line I used from the book is of no importance to the fic--I just picked a random line.<\/a><\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:2309","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/2309.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=2309"}}],"title":"I Constantly Thank God for Intermissions","published":"2009-12-25T04:43:00Z","updated":"2012-01-07T04:36:15Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"split"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"smut"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"other bands\/characters"}}],"content":"Title: <\/strong>I Constantly Thank God for Intermissions
Author: <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> <\/strong>
Rating: <\/b>PG-13 (A blowjob is suggested but not described.)
Pairing: <\/b>Rydon
POV: <\/b>It shifts from Ryan's to third. You'll be able to distinguish.
Summary:<\/b> \"For some strange and inexplicable reason, Brendon grabs my head with both his hands and shuts his eyes as his lips approach my own. My first reaction, of course, is to pull back to avoid the mouth connection. Oh, and also to yell, 'What the heck?!'\"<\/i>
Disclaimer: <\/strong>This is completely fictional. I do not own anything or anyone mentioned. The only thing that's mine is the story.
Beta:<\/b> My friend Janette
Author Notes: <\/strong>After the story

       "Ryan! My friend!" What's with Brendon? "Amigo!" Okay... "How you doing, buddy?" He's nuts.
       "I'm... fine."
       "Really? Because you seem a little exhausted."
       "No... Why would I be exhausted?"
       "I don't know... Maybe... something you did last night?" Okay, if Brendon doesn't tell me what he's talking about, I'm gonna get something. A panic attack, if you will.
      "Brendon, seriously, this is not a song. Don't talk to me in Morse code. Tell me what you're talking about."
       "Oh, so the boy doesn't remember last night? Goody! Then I shall remind the little boy of yesterday's events."
       For some strange and inexplicable reason, Brendon grabs my head with both his hands and shuts his eyes as his lips approach my own. My first reaction, of course, is to pull back to avoid the mouth connection. Oh, and also to yell, "What the heck?!"
       Brendon looks at me with that smile that I swear makes me want to punch him in the face. "But you liked it last night!"
       Okay. Relax, Ryan. Think, think... What in the world is this man talking about? What happened last night? I remember that I went to Keltie's house, we had a few drinks, then the boys--including Brendon--came along, and... blackout. I don't remember what happened next. I just know that somehow I fell asleep. Could Keltie have put something in my drink? What did I do, then, last night? "What do you mean?"
       "You're really clueless, aren't you?"
       Um... yes!! "Yes!"
       "Well, do you remember being with Keltie?"
       "Yes."
       "And do you remember when Spence, Jon, Pete, and I arrived?"
       "Yes."
       "And do you remember when you were groping me?"
       "...No."
       "Well, that's where all the fun started!"
       Groping?! Me?! Brendon?! Please tell me he's kidding. I'm afraid to ask, but... "What happened next?"
       It's needless to say that Brendon's smirk only grew larger. "Oh, next, you started biting my ear, and then you said I was sexy--which I am. And then, when everybody was loud and minding their own business, you told me to go with you into a little, dark closet. And then... well, you can imagine."
       I'm glad Brendon stopped telling his marvelous story right there. And, yes, I can imagine--even though I don't want to. But his anecdote is so irrational, so surreal, so... not me, that I'm getting doubts. "I don't believe you."
       "Check your phone."
       Oh, no. Oh, please, no. There's photo evidence? Please don't let it be some sort of porn photo shoot. I open my phone and go to the picture listings. Yes, in fact, there I am biting Brendon's ear. I must say that I look quite seductive. Scary, but the proof is there.
       "And everybody saw you, if you wanna ask them."
       Great. I didn't even have the decency to be discreet. "What about Keltie?"
       "Oh, she was pretty wild as well. I don't know why you guys were so weird. But, hey, it paid off!"
       If Keltie was acting strange too, then she wasn't the one to put something in my drink. Then, who did?
       "She was flirting with Pete while you were all on me."
       "And what did Pete do?"
       "Nothing. Enjoy the moment, like I did. He took it a little more easy than me, though. At least I tried to stop you at first, unlike him."
       Don't you ever feel like cursing in another language? What was it? Chingolos? Chingapos? Anyway, that son of a bee hive did this on purpose to get to Keltie. Not only that, but I also had to pay the consequences with Brendon.
       Being lost in my thoughts, I don't notice when Brendon grabs my head once again and, this time, plants a kiss on my lips. He knows I'll try to pull off, which is why his lips are so hardly pressed against mine. What I do is try to push him with my hands, and groan--letting him know how unpleased I am by this. He takes his disgusting tongue out of my mouth for a second to speak. "Come on, Ryan." And inside it goes once again. I try to push him away from me. I know I look weak, but... Okay, I am<\/em> weak. But hey, not as much as you would think! Brendon dares to let go of me with one hand (he's so underestimating me). Except I don't even have time to push off and be free--which I could, if it wasn't for Brendon's hand exploring my little buddies down there. Although it would be much more pleasant if my pants and underwear weren't in the way. Wait, did I just say that?! Why is it that...mm...his touch feels so...mmm...pleasureable and my tongue is now...mmmm...playing with his as well? My pushing goes from 'I can't' to 'I don't want to.' "I just thought I'd be even and return you the favor." I like the sound of that.
       I'm sure you all know the routine [except those of you curious teenagers calenturientos like me that are here reading what you're not supposed to and finding out things that aren't age appropriate (bola de escuincles inmaduros)], but I'm gonna go ahead and describe the scene anyway. Brendon unbuttons my pants and pulls them down along with my underwear. He then kneels down so that my well-formed boner is in front of his face (I don't like to brag, but yeah). Brendon opens his mouth and...

       We interrupt this highly explicit story to inform you that the oh-so-sacred exclamation point that was dropped from "Panic! At the Disco" is finally back. That's right, the band members of Panic At the Disco decided to bring back the icon that gave spiceness to their name as they're working on a new album. It seems like lots of fans are so thrilled with these news, that they've forgotten all about the deaths of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett or the fact that many of them are broke and unemployed due to the economy. Now back to the story. 

       ...close my eyes as I'm about to reach my climax. Wait, I think that... "Mmm... Ahh... Ahh!... Brendon!... Bren...!" 

       Sorry folks. We interrupt this story again to notify you that the band members of Panic! At the Disco have split up. Yes, Ryan and Jon said goodbye to their friends Brendon and Spencer as they decided that it was better to separate due to "different musical interests." Brencer will stay with the band, which they said is "very well," while Rywalk will... well, nobody really knows what they're going to do. It seems like the exclamation point news aren't so exciting anymore. Back to the sex scene.<\/p>

       Wow. It was just so wow. And I couldn't have described it any better than I just did.
       "Didn't I tell you I was good at this?"
       "You never said that."
       "Well, am I?"
       I smile and maybe even blush. "Yeah."


Author's Notes: <\/strong>I was bored one day months ago and just started writing whatever, and THIS<\/em> happened. Sorry for the Spanish writing. The title is a mix of "I Constantly Thank God for Esteban" and "Intermission," both by PATD

Also, I kind of overdid it with the Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett part. Sorry. I couldn't think of any other major events. =S Please don't kill me!<\/p><\/a>

 <\/p>

 <\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:2244","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/2244.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=2244"}}],"title":"Last Kiss","published":"2009-12-25T04:18:37Z","updated":"2012-01-07T04:12:45Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"split"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"angst"}}],"content":"Title:<\/b> Last Kiss
Author:<\/b> <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Rating:<\/b> PG
Pairing:<\/b> Rydon
POV:<\/b> Third
Summary:<\/b> The band came up with a decision that was hard at first for everyone to accept. But not all of them were mentally prepared for this. Not all of them were able to get over the shock. However, life kept going without waiting for anybody to recover.<\/i>
Disclaimer:<\/b> This is based on a real event, but is fiction nontheless. I do not own anyone or anything mentioned; the only thing mine is the story.
Beta:<\/b> Janette
Author Notes:<\/b> I don't mean to bring back sour memories, so forgive me for that. *sob*



       The days for the band boys were long and sour. Their distance was as disturbing as when they were together. They stopped talking to each other for reasons that they didn't want to understand. Jon was staying with Ryan; Spencer with Brendon. They had built a wall, giving a stop to the exchange of music, ideas, thoughts, and just the moments they used to share in general. There had been multiple discussions and obvious disagreement, which led the boys to think that spending time away from each other would be a temporary but healthy solution.<\/p>

And for the most part, it was. They were able to write peacefully and let their minds clear out a little. But, of course, there were still those constant reminders that something was wrong and it needed to be fixed. And just as slowly as this all began and developed, they slowly began to realize what just had<\/em> to be done. They decided to talk.<\/p>

       ..."This isn't working out."...<\/p>

       ..."There's no way we'll be able to continue this way."...<\/p>

       ..."I think it's better if we split up."...<\/p>

       The band came up with a decision that was hard at first for everyone to accept. But not all of them were mentally prepared for this. Not all of them were able to get over the shock. However, life kept going without waiting for anybody to recover. Soon, Jon and Ryan were taking everything that was theirs, leaving behind Panic At the Disco for good.<\/p>

       "Ryan, please, think about it. There's still a chance."

       "No, Brendon, there's no going back now."

       "It's not too late!"

       "Brendon, it's better this way. We can't be together, and if we're working with each other, it will only hurt us. Besides, it's evident that we have different musical interests."

       "That's just an excuse!" Pause. "Fine. Leave the band; make your own music career--but don't leave me. I love you too much. We can still do somehing about it."

       "There's nothing we can do! Why don't you make this easier for the both of us and just let it go?!"

       Brendon began to tear up. "I can't! Ryan, don't do this! Don't ignore this! Don't go on and about pretending that you don't care, because it hurts me to see you act this way!"

       Ryan couldn't hold his tears back. "Stop making me feel bad for doing the right thing! It's painful enough for me to have to leave Panic and to have to leave you."

       "Then, don't! Ryan, I love you! I love you! I love you!"

       "Shut up!" The room filled up with silence as Ryan dried up his tears. "I'm sorry, Brendon."

       Ryan picked up his last briefcase and headed for the door. When he opened it, Brendon turned Ryan toward him. He kissed him vigorously with eyes shut tightly. Ryan didn't resist and kissed back. Shorly afer, he pulled away.

       "Goodbye," and the door closed.



Author's Notes: <\/strong>I wrote this the day I found out about the split. Such a depressing day.<\/p><\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:1890","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/1890.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=1890"}}],"title":"Have You Ever Had a Dream?","published":"2009-12-25T04:07:39Z","updated":"2010-07-07T04:10:07Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"cheating"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"smut"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"other bands\/characters"}}],"content":"

Brendon placed his hand on the inner side of Ryan's thigh, wondering what it would be like to have him, but knowing he couldn't. Ryan shivered at Brendon's touch. He looked the other way and bit his lip trying to resist, but he, too, wanted to be Brendon's so badly. Brendon slid his hand down Ryan's thigh, and then placed it back on his own leg. He turned away as well, but soon enough his head was turned towards Ryan by him, who kissed him forcefully. Brendon kissed back, not thinking about anything else. Ryan put his hand on Brendon's chest and moved it down until he found his groin. Brendon broke the kiss to take Ryan's V-neck off. He pushed Ryan down gently to lay on the sofa. Then he placed kisses on his neck and all over his torso. Ryan enjoyed those lips while he unbuttoned his own pants. Brendon kissed and kissed and licked and licked. He traveled down that way, and soon he had Ryan's erection in front of him. He looked up to see the other boy's face. Ryan was resting his head with eyes closed, breathing unevenly. Brendon went back to business. He opened his mouth to take Ryan in. Ryan opened his mouth to to gasp. Brendon stretched his arms forward. He began to bob his head at a steady pace. The zest made Ryan's breathing increase rapidly. He reached for Brendon's hand and grasped it strongly. He moaned ocassionally and let out sudden gasps. Soon, he began to whisper in moans, "Brendon. Brendon." He frowned and pressed Brendon's hand even tighter, leaving marks of his nails on it. Brendon then moved his head faster up and down. He swallowed Ryan's seed. Ryan sat up and grabbed him by the collar. He planted a kiss on his soft, wet lips. Then he began to suck on Brendon's neck while unbuttoning his shirt. As soon as he did, he ran his hands all across his chest and his back. Brendon just closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Ryan's hair. So this was what it felt like. This was what Ryan felt like, what he looked like, what he tasted like. This was the way he kissed and the way he moaned. His moves were quick and desperate. His warm tongue sucked Brendon's neck as if it were a lollipop, and to Ryan, it was. This new taste was sweet to his sense. He finally knew Brendon's exact smell, his exact structure, and some of his abilities as a lover. His touch was gentle and his skin soft and comfortable. Now more than ever Ryan wanted them to belong to each other, and to be able to tell Brendon how much he loved him. He stopped his current actions and held Brendon's head in front of his. He grabbed Brendon's lower lip with his teeth and kept it there for a while. Both of them had their eyes closed as they captured the moment. The sound of an opening door interrupted their moment lost in time. The two boys stood frozen at the sight of Keltie holding the door knob.


Author's Notes: <\/strong>First time I write something like this. Ugh. The name comes from the "Monstrous Fucking" speech PATD used to give at concerts. Good old times.<\/a><\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:1545","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/1545.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=1545"}}],"title":"In the Melody of Music","published":"2009-12-25T04:01:20Z","updated":"2010-06-07T18:21:42Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fluff"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"school"}}],"content":"

Title: <\/strong>In the Melody of Music
Author: <\/b><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/b>PG
Pairing: <\/b>Rydon
POV: <\/b>Third
Summary:<\/b> "Will you be my date to the prom?"<\/em>
Disclaimer: <\/b>I don't own anything or anyone, except for the story. Also, this is all fiction, meaning it never actually happened as far as we know.
Beta: <\/b>\"[info]\"<\/a>youignorantfool<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Author Notes: <\/strong>Quite a long while ago, there was a dance I didn't go to. Instead, I wrote this =P It's super short and not the best ever, but whatever.



       "Will you be my date to the prom?"

       Brendon was standing directly in front of Ryan, looking him directly in the eyes. Ryan was looking back at him, surprised. Brendon's request was completely unexpected to him. He stayed speechless for a few seconds, then he responded. "Yes."<\/p>


       Ryan was at home, wondering what he should wear for the prom. He was so used to wearing a t-shirt and tight jeans, but he had to wear something different tonight. He got out from his closet a striped, black shirt he had never worn before. He also found a pair of dress pants that were neatly folded, lost somewhere behind all his other pants. The attire looked formal enough for a dance. His mom offered to iron them for him. In the bathroom, Ryan stood in front of the mirror to check out his hair. He grabbed a bottle of gel and put some on his hand, then on his hair. He rubbed his hands through his hair and pulled it up to make it look a little spiky.<\/p>


       After about an hour of preparation, when Ryan felt he was ready, he was driven by his mother to school. There, he found Brendon. He was wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt and black dress pants. He was standing outside the gym, waiting for Ryan. When finally Ryan met him, Brendon smiled.

       "You look great."

       "Thanks. You too."

       Both of them walked inside into the loud, dark room covered in colored lights.

       "Let's go get a drink," suggested Ryan.

       They approached the drinking fountain and each grabbed a cup of punch. They watched the other kids dancing and fooling around. When the song was over, it was followed by a slow ballad.

       Soon, Brendon asked, "You wanna dance?"

       Ryan simply nodded. Brendon grabbed Ryan's hand and took him to the dance floor. There, they positioned themselves in a dancing stance; Brendon's hand on Ryan's waist and Ryan's hand on Brendon's shoulder. They began to dance slowly in rhythm with the music. A few curious eyes would glance at them, noticing the odd couple. Brendon and Ryan knew, but they didn't care. Then Brendon pulled Ryan closer to him, and slowly he moved toward his face. He made lip contact and pushed his tongue past Ryan's lips. They kissed in the middle of the dance floor, in the darkness of the night, in the melody of the music.
 <\/p><\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:1284","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/1284.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=1284"}}],"title":"Treacherous Games","published":"2009-12-25T03:44:39Z","updated":"2010-06-07T18:22:12Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"humor"}},"content":"

       "Hahaha! Are you crazy? You want Ryan to kill me?"
       "Just do it! It'll be fun."
       "Well, if it's so fun, then YOU do it."
       "No, Bren. You two are the epic 'couple.' C'mon!"
       Brendon was delighted with Jon's idea of pranking Ryan, but he didn't know if he was willing to be involved in such a thing. After all, it wasn't a simple is-your-fridge-running? phone prank. He was still grinning when he made up his mind. "Okay, I'm in."<\/p>

       The next morning their plan went into effect. Ryan woke up and got out of his bunk. He noticed that Jon and Spencer were still asleep, as usual. He went outside to make himself some breakfast, only to find Brendon out in the kitchen already. On the table there were two plates with eggs and bacon, and a glass next to each one. Ryan was confused. He didn't understand why Brendon served two plates instead of just one, or four. Brendon was taking out the juice from the fridge, when Ryan asked, "What is this?"
       "What does it look like? I made us breakfast," Brendon replied with a smile.
       "Oh-kaay."
       Ryan and Brendon both sat down. Ryan grabbed the juice and poured some in his glass. He began eating, but then stopped when he realized that Brendon was staring at him, smiling. "What?" Ryan looked puzzled.
       "Nothing." Brendon took his sight off of Ryan and poured some juice in his glass as well, never removing his smirk.
       It was then when Jon and Spencer came out. They both looked sluggish. "You made any for us?" asked Spencer.
       "What do we look like, your maids?" responded Brendon sarcastically.
       "Suh-REE" said Spencer walking towards the kitchen. Jon stayed behind to give Brendon two thumbs up. Brendon raised his eyebrows in response.<\/p>

       Later that day, Ryan was in the bunks tuning his guitar. Brendon walked in without knocking. "What'cha doin'?"
       "Not much. Just tuning my guitar."
       Brendon sat right next to Ryan and watched him work. Then Brendon spoke again. "You know what they say about long strings?" Ryan looked at him, puzzled. "Long necks," responded Brendon. Ryan didn't even want to ask, so he tried to ignore Brendon. "And don't even get me started on the head and the soundhole."
       "Bren, what do you want?!"
       "Nothing! I'm just making conversation!" Brendon couldn't help smiling. "But if it bothers you, I'll leave." Ryan kind of wanted Brendon to leave, so he didn't stop him as Brendon exited the bunks. He left and immediately reentered the room. "Don't you like that cool sound the guitar ejects when you strum a string while sliding your finger up and down the neck?" He simulated this movement in midair.
       "Brendon, leave!"
       He quickly did as Ryan ordered.<\/p>

       "How are things with Ryan?" Jon asked.
       "I don't know. I think he knows something's up, though. But I don't know if he suspects that it's a scheme."
       "Okay. Here are some things for your next and final act." Jon handed Brendon a plastic bag with the items inside.
       Brendon peeked to see what it was. "What's this for?... Oh, no."
       "Yes! How did you think it was gonna end?"
       Brendon laughed. "I'm not gonna do that!"
       "At least you don't have to make out with him or something!"
       "All right, all right. I'll do it."<\/p>

       Jon, Ryan, and Spencer were in the sitting room, watching TV. Brendon was in the bunks, ready to come out. When he did, he called out, "I have an announcement!" Everybody turned to him. Brendon was standing up straight and holding a red rose. Jon grabbed the remote and turned off the TV set. Then Brendon walked to the living room. "There's something I need to say, and I want everyone to witness this." He kneeled down in front of Ryan--his left knee and fibula and his right foot on the ground. "Ryan, I never had the guts to say it, but I love you and I always have." He hastened to take out from his right, back pocket a ring box. He held it up along with the rose for Ryan to see. "Will you marry me?" Ryan was looking down directly at Brendon. He wasn't sure what to think of this. Spencer was equally shocked and Jon was making a huge effort not to laugh--as so was Brendon.
       "Yes!" exclaimed Ryan grinning. The shock was exchanged as Brendon was left astonished by his reply.
       "Huh?" Brendon saw that Ryan never stopped smiling. He turned to Jon, who was as clueless as him. The seconds passed and Brendon was feeling more and more tense. "But... this was supposed to be a joke." Ryan's lit face faded. All the four boys threw glances at each other for an eternal amount of silent time.
       "Gotcha!" called out Ryan. He pointed at Brendon while giving him a smirk.
       Brendon smiled and covered his face with his hand. "Oh, my gosh," he said while he and Jon giggled. Spencer was a bit confused, but he was still following along.
       "Don't go pranking me again," warned Ryan.
       "Wow. That was something," said Spencer.
       Everybody switched back to their previous actions. The TV was turned back on. Ryan, Jon, and Spencer sat down on the couch and Brendon joined in, sitting next to Ryan. "You scared me for a second," Brendon said to Ryan. "I actually believed you. You're good." Ryan showed him a smile of satisfaction. But in reality, he was vastly irritated by Brendon's little game. But then again, that anger would slowly fade away as Ryan heard the other boy laugh at the TV show and as he felt their arms rub gently against each other. Ryan had<\/em> pulled off a good act--just not how the other boys thought.<\/p><\/a>

 <\/p>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:1249","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/1249.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=1249"}}],"title":"Shining Battle","published":"2009-12-25T03:31:06Z","updated":"2012-01-07T04:25:37Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"angst"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"other bands\/characters"}}],"content":"Title: <\/strong>Shining Battle
Author: <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> <\/strong>
Rating: <\/b>PG-13 (suicidal, kissing, F word)
Pairing: <\/b>Rydon
POV: <\/b>Third
Summary:<\/b> But this night the sky served only as a background. What Brendon really had his eyes on was the bridge in front of it. The bridge, yes, but mostly Ryan, who was only two fists away from falling to the busy streets.<\/i>
Disclaimer: <\/strong>Completely fictional. I do not own anything or anyone, except for the story.
Beta:<\/b> My friend Janette
Author Notes: <\/strong>After the story


       Brendon looked up. The sky was a dark blue, not yet black. There was a complete absence of stars, for the city lights were far too many to let some trivial, little white dots win the shining battle. But this night the sky served only as a background. What Brendon really had his eyes on was the bridge in front of it. The bridge, yes, but mostly Ryan, who was only two fists away from falling to the busy streets. Brendon stayed there astonished for a second or two, until he was able to command his legs to move. He ran as fast as he could. He raced against the air that thrust him away from his destination. He reached the steps that lead him to where the older boy was.

       Ryan was looking directly below him, watching the cars rush in and out of his sight. He was trying to find the strength to let go of the handle behind him. It was hard to say goodbye for the last time, but he couldn't stay. Keltie was the only thing he cared about, the only one that gave him purpose, the only person he truly loved. Without her, Ryan was nothing. And what increased his agony was the way she used him and treated him like trash. Tears escaped his eyes and into the pavement underneath, announcing the upcoming descent.

      Brendon arrived at the top of the stairs, and, without stopping his course, yelled the name of the suicidal young man. Ryan quickly turned his head towards the origin of the voice. His eyes caught the sight of Brendon running towards him. He was a few feet away when Ryan yelled, "Don't come any closer or I'll jump!" Despite the inertia inserted in his body, Brendon stopped. He bent forward at an angle, trying to catch his breath, and held the handle of the parapet with one hand to support himself. Ryan watched him recover. 

       "Ryan!" Brendon said between gasps. "Don't do it!" 

       "Go away, Brendon. I don't want you to see this." 

       "No! Don't!" 

       "Go away!" Ryan sighed. "I have to end this once and for all." 

       "Ryan, stop being ridiculous. Get down from there. C'mon, I'll help you." Brendon gave two steps forward before Ryan stopped him. 

       "No!" Ryan turned to face the streets. "I can't live without her, Bren. I can't find in me the strength to survive." Tears covered his cheeks. 

       "Yes, you can. I'll help you. You'll see that everything's gonna be just fine." 

       "You don't understand what it feels like! You don't know how it hurts!" 

       "Of course I do! You think it's easy for me to go through my fucking life every day without being able to hold you and tell you how much I love you? I think we're both on the same boat here." 

       "It's not the same! I lost someone. I was humiliated. You haven't been through any of that." 

       "Okay, maybe not. But I will if you jump off this bridge. Ryan, I don't want to lose you, even if I don't have you the way I want." 

       Ryan didn't speak. Brendon didn't move. Ryan was sobbing, holding tight from the handle. Brendon looked below them. He was frightened that Ryan would jump any second.

      Then he saw it.

      He saw Ryan unlocking his hands from the bar. He saw Ryan leaning forward as he slowly was being pulled down by gravity. He saw Ryan go down, down, down, never seeming to reach the ground. A narrow river formed from Brendon's eye to his jaw. 

       "Ryan, listen to me. Jon, Spencer, Zack... there's about a thousand people out there that will be miserable if you leave--and I'm not counting your fans." Brendon started walking deliberately closer to Ryan, approaching his hand with his own. "Don't let one person control your destiny. Keltie's just another girl. You'll get over her. I know you, Ry. You're strong. We'll help you." Brendon finally made contact with Ryan's hand. He kept approaching, and his hand kept traveling up Ryan's fist and arm. "Is this really how you want to end it? How you want people to remember Ryan Ross by? Don't you want to live a long, happy life? Sixty more years, perhaps?" Brendon kept moving forward. He now was completely behind Ryan, and his arms were around his skinny waist. He was strongly wrapped around Ryan so that he wouldn't fall. Ryan sighed and closed his eyes tightly as he kept crying. "Wanna get down, now?"

       Without changing the look on his face, Ryan nodded. He slowly let go of the bar and grasped Brendon's arms instead. As soon as Ryan was loose, Brendon hastily pulled him, making them both fall to the ground. Ryan was lying down, while Brendon was sitting. Brendon felt a strong sense of satisfaction that made him want to cry and laugh at the same time. But he did neither. Instead, he looked down at the boy he had just rescued. Ryan's face expressed his complaint for the pain the fall caused him. Brendon bent down to connect his lips with Ryan's. He kissed him shortly, but intensely. He then separated and bent back up. "Sorry. I know you hate it when I do that, but it's just that I couldn't stand the thought of losing you." Ryan didn't bother that Brendon had kissed him, even though, in fact, it always did. All that mattered to Ryan now was to have someone to support him. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Brendon and began to cry on his shoulder.

       Brendon looked down at the streets again. He saw a crowd of people enclosing a laying body. He saw Ryan, pressed against the ground in the middle of the road, his head surrounded by a circle of dark, red blood. Another tear came down. He looked back at the Ryan in front of him. He hugged Ryan back and placed his head over Ryan's.

       It was then when Brendon paid attention to the night sky. He was able to see a minute star standing out from the black sheet of space around it. It wasn't very bright, but it was there--striving to overcome the city lights that were powerful and persevering. But it was there, and that's all that mattered to Brendon.



Author's Notes: <\/strong>Some people told me this was too eloquent. I think they might be right, but I still like this fic.<\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:800","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/800.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=800"}}],"title":"Leaving You","published":"2009-12-25T03:26:32Z","updated":"2012-01-07T04:11:05Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"medical condition"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"angst"}}],"content":"Title:<\/b> Leaving You
\nAuthor:<\/b> <\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span>
\nRating:<\/b> PG
\nPairing:<\/b> Rydon
\nPOV:<\/b> Third
\nSummary:<\/b> It was morning. There was a phone call. There was running and sweating and fear. Brendon rushed into the hospital room. "Ryan!" But Ryan didn't answer, being asleep on his assigned stretcher.<\/i>
\nDisclaimer:<\/b> Fictional. I do not own anything or anyone, except for the story.
\nBeta:<\/b> Janette
\nAuthor Notes:<\/b> After the story\n



\n      The swine influenza had spread to the United States, and it seemed unstoppable every time even more. Not many deaths were yet recorded in the US, but hundreds were already victims in Mexico. Being so close to the foreign country, Los Angeles was one of the first cities to obtain this virus. Sure, the band boys were worried and they took their precautions, but none of them thought their luck would betray them.

      It was morning. There was a phone call. There was running and sweating and fear. Brendon rushed into the hospital room. "Ryan!" But Ryan didn't answer, being asleep on his assigned stretcher. Brendon came closer to him. He had a special mask he was required to wear. He had vinyl gloves. "Ryan, please don't be dead." Ryan was able to hear him. He woke up to the view of a white ceiling, and then the more pleasing view of Brendon. Ryan smiled, adding emphasis on the "pleasing".

      "How do you feel?" 

      "I'm fine. I'll be fine."

      "The doctors think otherwise."

      "Eh. What do they know?"

      Brendon held Ryan's hand with both of his.

      "Ryan, if you go..."

      "Don't worry, Brendon. Don't think about that. It's just a stupid flu."

      "But I'm so afraid to lose you..." 

      "Bren, don't argue with me."

      Brendon sat down in a chair next to Ryan. He then raised the hand he was holding to his face, rubbing it gently against his cheek.

      "Brendon, you shouldn't do that."

      "You said it yourself--it's just a stupid flu." 

      The soft touch of Ryan's hand brought Brendon a peaceful sensation of relief, as if he was resting on a smooth, creamy cloud, leaving all problems down on Earth. Ryan enjoyed the sight of Brendon caressing his hand.

      "Have I ever told you that I love you?" asked Ryan.

      "About a thousand times."

      Ryan smiled, but not even that removed the paleness from his sick face. 

      "One more time won't hurt, right?"

      Brendon smiled in response.

      "I love you, Brendon."

      "I love you, Ryan."

      Brendon's voice was shaky, which was complemented by watery eyes.

      Brendon removed his gloves to feel the face of the dying boy. Their eyes were always locked into each other's. Brendon leaned forward, closer and closer to Ryan. He pulled down his mask, revealing his lush lips. He kept moving forward until his lips pressed gently against Ryan's. Their glance finally broke as they closed their eyes. They kissed as if it was the last time, perhaps because they knew it was close to being. Brendon's and Ryan's tongues played both peacefully and fiercefully with each other's mouths, getting a taste of each other's DNA. Ryan used his hand to grasp Brendon's hair, making sure he wouldn't pull off. Brendon used his own hand to finger Ryan's face and neck.

      The smaller guests were busy traveling silently from one home to the next, where they would fight claiming what wasn't theirs. But this didn't matter. The two boys were now magnetic pieces of a puzzle, and they fit perfectly. Their act of death was the only thing keeping them alive.



Author's Notes: <\/strong>I wrote this when the swine flu was still a "mass hysteria" kind of issue. The title comes from "Cancer" by My Chemical Romance, not only because it fits, but because it's the song I listened to for inspiration while writing this fic.<\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:all_depends:550","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/550.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/all-depends.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=550"}}],"title":"A Silenced Sorrow","published":"2009-12-25T03:16:36Z","updated":"2012-01-07T04:14:34Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fluff"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"angst"}}],"content":"Title: <\/strong>A Silenced Sorrow
Author: <\/strong><\/a>all_depends<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating: <\/strong>G
Pairing: <\/strong>Rydon
POV: <\/strong>Ryan's, then third
Summary: <\/strong>Ryan's feelings for Brendon expressed in the sappiest way possible
Disclaimer: <\/strong>I do not own anything or anyone, except for the story. This is fictional, existing only in my imagination (as far as I know).
Beta: <\/strong>Janette
Author Notes: <\/strong>After the story


These hours, they seem like an eternity. An eternity that I won't live with or without you. I will live right next to you, which is worse. It is torture, knowing you, loving you, wanting you, and having to throw all those feelings away. I die when you're by my side, and all I want is to hold you. I want to wrap you around my arms, and never let you go. I want to kiss you gently, and then passionately, letting you know that you're mine and no one else's. I want to tell you how much I love you, and for how long I've felt this way. I want to burst out into tears, and see yours running down your face. I want to scream your name, and know that you'll scream mine. I want to hold you tight, touch your skin, feel your hands, and hear your breath. I want to grip your hands, and feel them gripping back. I want to walk on this thin layer of ice with you, and dare to run every once in a while. I want to hear your laugh, and laugh with you. I want to be the shoulder you cry on when you need to. I want to share our dreams, our passions, our problems, and our love. I want to lose track of time. I want to forget the past. I want to turn my nightmares into dreams, even if they eventually have to come back. I want to live and die for you. Because, you see, for you I would go around the world, even if death awaited me at the end of my journey. I want to want to hate you, and love you even more. I want to cry to a sad love song, only to remind myself that there's nothing to cry about. I want to be fine. I want to be with you. <\/i><\/div>

But despite all the things I want, there's only one thing I truly need. I need you. I need you because without you my life makes no sense. Without you I can't breathe without crying. Without you I have to force my smiles. Without you it's hard to fall asleep. Without you I can't feel my own heart. Without you I see no reason, no logic, no hope, no tomorrow. Without you, there's no me. I want you. I need you. My heart will wait, though I don't know for how long. Please save me, and don't let me die.<\/i><\/p>

  Brendon enters the room.<\/p>

  "Ryan, you okay? I heard sobbing."<\/p>

  Ryan wipes the tear running down his face before turning to face Brendon.<\/p>

  "Um... yeah, I'm fine."<\/p>

  Brendon notices the paper that's on the table and grabs it.<\/p>

  "What's that?"<\/p>

  "Um, just some poem I found."<\/p>

  "It's in your handwriting."<\/p>

  "Yeah, I copied it from the Internet. The printer wasn't working. I kind of liked it... you know, for inspiration?"<\/p>

  "Oh. Okay then. Well, we're going out to eat. Wanna come with?"<\/p>

  "Um, all right."<\/p>

  Brendon walks out of the room. Ryan grabs the poem he wrote, takes a last look at it, then crumples it and throws it into the trash can. He walks out to follow Brendon.


Author's Notes: <\/strong>I know this is heck of corny.
 <\/p><\/a>"}]}