{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte","title":"run where you'll be safe.","subtitle":"trylohbyte","author":{"name":"trylohbyte"},"link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"service.feed","type":"application\/x.atom+xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom","title":"run where you'll be safe."}}],"updated":"2009-02-08T21:42:47Z","entry":[{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:6770","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/6770.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=6770"}}],"title":"trylohbyte @ 2020-02-07T22:53:00","published":"2009-02-08T06:53:51Z","updated":"2009-02-08T06:54:26Z","content":"Find all my fics here.<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:6306","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/6306.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=6306"}}],"title":"Anger's a Lesser Disaster (Ch. 2)","published":"2009-02-08T04:30:21Z","updated":"2009-02-08T21:42:47Z","content":"Title<\/strong>: Anger's a Lesser Disaster
Author<\/strong>: trylohbyte
Rating<\/strong>: R Overall
Pairing<\/strong>: Vampire!Jon\/Brendon, Tom\/Greta
Summary<\/strong>: Jon finds himself in a predicament in which he is hungry as hell but can't bring himself to feast on what would probably be the best meal in the history of forever. He wanders the city and eventually does find his dinner. But there are still other confusing surprises awaiting him.
Dislcaimer<\/strong>: Obviously fictional. I hate to burst the Twilight generation's bubble, but vampires do not actually exist. Title belongs to Empires.
A\/N<\/strong>: I'm sorry this took so long. :( I've been caught up in other things, including a little piece of writing based on Taylor Swift's Love Story and a ridiculously long Brendon\/Ryan work. If I hadn't been home sick the past two days, I probably never would have finished this. So, uh. Go bronchitis.

Previous Chapters<\/strong>: P<\/a> | 1<\/a>


The sight of the boy in the window would have taken Jon's breath away if he had any to spare. He had dark, perfectly tousled hair and red-rimmed glasses over his puppy-dog brown eyes. Jon guesstimated that he was probably about five feet, seven inches tall. Something close to his own height.

On any other occasion, he would have just smashed through the window and killed his prey. Left the body cold and pale on the ground for someone else to find and dispose of. Walked off without a care, because who would catch him anyway?<\/p>

But he couldn't. For some reason, he couldn't smash the glass. The very thought of sinking his teeth into that pulse, while undoubtably tempting and enticing, made Jon's stomach churn. And not because he was hungry.<\/p>

He dropped himself from the wall, making a loud thumping noise upon landing. He turned around and slumped against the wall of the house, slowly sliding down to sit on the cool grass. His hands came up to cover his face, and then back to tug through his hair. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he asked himself.<\/p>

The creak of a door opening and then the latching as it shut alerted Jon. He looked up from his hands and to both sides, sniffing just slightly. The scent of the boy hit him again, stronger and more fresh this time than before. Jon's lips drew back and he covered his nose. As tasty as the smell was, if he kept smelling it, he would end up killing that boy and would regret it for the rest of his eternal life.<\/p>

Forever.<\/p>

“Excuse me?” a voice asked.<\/p>

Jon looked up, hands still secure over his nose, to see the boy from the window. He tensed while his mind and body battled, throwing arguments of attack and stay back.<\/p>

“Did you break your nose trying to sneak into my apartment?”<\/p>

Jon stayed still and quiet.<\/p>

“Because, really, you thought I didn't see you spying on me through my window?” the boy pressed. “Honestly. Who the hell are you anyway?”<\/p>

Jon tried to say 'Jonathan Jacob Walker', but it came out sounding more like. Something that was not his name. Maybe a sort of gurgling sound.<\/p>

“Did you want to make a run for it, or were you planning on going to-”<\/p>

Jon was gone before there were any threats of calling the police.<\/p>
He ended up settling for the first unaccompanied adult to pass by a dark alley.

***

When he was done with his meal, he left the body lying on the cold, concrete ground. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the mysterious murder would end up in the paper the next day and it would probably trip the alarms of seekers all across the globe. But he really couldn't bring himself to care.<\/p>

As it turned out, Chicago was not a small town. It was, in fact, a huge town. And Jon had trouble finding a place to hide out for the night. He wandered the streets, wary of the scents around him. It wasn't until he was thinking maybe he'd just chill in a dumpster until the sun rose that he caught a familiar scent.<\/p>

It was vaguely reminiscent of something he'd been in contact with before, but at the same time, it held a trace of something he couldn't stand. One thing was for sure, though. The smell came from a vampire.<\/p>

He stalked it, and the faint aroma grew stronger and stronger the closer he got to the source. He ended up outside of a quant, cozy looking house in a nice neighborhood. He had no way of percieving what hour of the night it was, but judging by the orange glow on the horizon, he guessed it was early, early morning. He knocked anyway.<\/p>

He half expected no one to answer. But his face lit up when a man opened the door. The man had dirty blonde hair and a fair amount of stubble across his face. A silver hoop pierced his nose.<\/p>

“Tom!” Jon exclaimed.<\/p>

The other vampire looked confused for a moment. His nose twitched and a small smile crept across his face.<\/p>

“Jonny Walker?” Tom laughed. “I didn't think I'd ever see you again, what with the seekers finding you.”<\/p>

“Crazy story, buddy-”<\/p>

“Hold that thought.” Tom's right ear perked up, picking up a sound behind him.<\/p>

“Tommy, who is it?”<\/p>

“Jon, you should-” Tom started.<\/p>

“Of all the-.” A young, pretty blonde appeared behind Tom. She peeked over his shoulder and her jaw dropped slightly when she saw Jon. She took a few small steps back, and Jon could see that she was holding her swollen belly.<\/p>

Above all else, she was a human.<\/p>

“Oh,” she said. “This is a... friend of yours, Tom?”<\/p>

Jon glared incredulously at Tom who offered an awkward grin in response.<\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:6020","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/6020.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=6020"}}],"title":"Crysanthemum","published":"2008-11-23T08:44:23Z","updated":"2008-11-23T08:46:25Z","content":"Title<\/strong>: Crysanthemum
Author<\/strong>: <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Pairing<\/strong>: Jon\/Brendon
Rating<\/strong>: G
Summary<\/strong>: Crysanthemum: (n.) excitement, truth, sharing, secret admirer<\/em>.
Disclaimer<\/strong>: Not true, at all. But how adorable would that be?
A\/N<\/strong>: Took me no more than an hour. It was an hour to midnight and I was bored. Completely unrealistic. If it was shorter, I'd call it a drabble.


When Brendon first moved into his new house in Chicago, everyone seemed to know who he was. Apparently he was the most well-known botanist in the Midwest. His neighbors - who he has learned are William, Greta, and Patrick - brought him various potted plants to welcome him into the city and into their neighborhood. He spent the rest of that first day admiring the fine blooms.

***

He’s been finding flowers on his front step since he moved into his new house. He doesn’t know how they get there, but it’s a different one every day. The only day he doesn’t find one is Sunday. There’s never a Petunia or a Bluebell on his doormat when he steps out for a breath of fresh air. He’s come to miss the little surprises on Sundays.

He keeps all of them. He makes small bouquets out of them with wrapping ribbon and sometimes he throws some glitter on because they just don’t sparkle enough. There’s at least six vases of them around his house already. He really hopes he’ll be able to fill more.

***

The first one is a bright pink Myrtle. Or rather a cluster of them, scattered in front of his door. He picks them up and gathers them into a neat bunch, ties them off with white ribbon, and places them in a small, clear vase.

Being a botanist, he’s pretty familiar on the meaning of certain flowers. Myrtles, he knows, mean Home. He laughs. What a coincidence is that? Whoever’s leaving the flowers - if it’s a person at all - seems to know him pretty well, too.

***

His second day, and he finds a single Peony tied to the outside door handle. He neatly adds it to the vase with the Myrtles, trying to recall what Peonies represented.

It comes to him, finally, when he’s preparing dinner for himself. They mean bashfulness, shyness. He thinks it odd - such a bright, bold flower meaning something to opposite of itself. He looks at the flower long and hard, trying to place why someone would call it a shy flower.

It outstood the Myrtles alone.

***

A Lotus blossom is pinned by one of his windshield wipers when he walks out to his car the next day. He doesn’t have time to bring it inside, or else he’ll be late for his new job. So he brings it into the car with him and stores it in his office - his own office! - on his desk. It brightens up the bland, white room immediately.

When he has free time, he googles the meaning of the flower. Just as the results come up, his boss walks in.

“Mr. Urie!” he exclaims rather loudly. “May I say it’s just an honor to have you working here? I’m your boss, but you can call me Pete.”

“Pete,” Brendon agrees. “In that case, you can call me Brendon. Mr. Urie is a little to formal for my tastes.”

“Brendon it is,” Pete confirms. “Are you enjoying your office? I had it cleaned up for you.”

“It’s very nice, thank-”

“Where did that awesome flower come from?” Pete interjects, shouting again.

“Oh. I found it on my windshield this morning.” Brendon shrugs.

“Oh,” Pete smirks. “Maybe someone left it there for you?”

“Ha, I doubt it,” Brendon laughs. “I only know four people in this town, including you.”

“You never know who’s watching you from afar.” Pete winks and waves as he leaves the office. Brendon thinks of how grateful he is that he has a nice boss.

He returns his gaze to the computer screen, focusing back on the matter at hand. He brings up the Wikipedia page for the flower where it explains that it represents mystery. Brendon’s eyebrows come together, scrunching up the skin on his forehead, and he mumbles, “Yeah, I guess you never know.”

***

He finds the chamomile and the four leaf clover in his mailbox on Saturday. The four leaf clover, obviously, means good luck. The Chamomile means patience, and Brendon suddenly feels like someone’s waiting on him. Like he’s stalling something.

He shakes his head and brings the plants inside, putting the clover in a safe place and putting the Chamomile in a nice, blue vase. That’s when Brendon decides to strike back. Whoever’s doing this is starting to bug him and flatter him at the same time.

So he goes out and buys a Venus Looking Glass and a Thistle, and when he gets home, he puts them in his mailbox and flips the flag up.

***

Sunday, and Brendon checks the mailbox. He finds the same two flowers he bought yesterday, looking a little wilted and saddened. For whatever reason, no one decided to drop off a flower today. He’s a little upset at first - like someone’s suddenly given up on him.

But on Monday, he wakes up early and meets the mailman. His name is Jon Walker, and he looks extremely good in his shorts.

“Morning!” Brendon greets cheerfully. “Lovely day to be receiving mail, isn’t it?”

“And to be delivering it,” Jon replies, smiling brightly. “Heading off to work today, Mr. Urie?”

“Brendon. And I’m actually off today,” Brendon says. “How does everyone here know me?”

“I don’t know, but we do.” Jon shrugs. “Maybe it’s because of that one book you wrote on botany. It was a best-seller, you know?”

“Maybe here it was,” Brendon sighs. “Not many people are interested in botany in Vegas.”

“So you moved here?”

“Precisely.”

Jon opens the mailbox and pulls out the flowers, arching one eyebrow. “Flattery and retaliation?” he asks.

“Yeah. You know flowers?”

“Love them.” He bends down and picks a Betony from the ground. “Surprise.”

“What’s so surprising about flowers in a mailbox, huh?”

“Nothing.” Jon smirks and climbs back into his mail truck. “Have a good day, Brendon.”

“You, too.”

***

A Sainfoin is on top of Brendon mailbox Tuesday afternoon. He sees it when he returns from work. He’d gone in early to help Pete with some long overdue paperwork, and in return, got to take an early leave. The little pink bundle looks to be weighted down with a small rock.

A Sainfoin, Brendon learned in college, means ‘you confuse me.’ He tries to think of anything confusing he’s done in recent days, but can’t seem to do it. He’s a pretty straight-forward guy - he tells it like it is. And explains when people can’t seem to understand.

But now, all the sudden, he’s confusing.

No, what’s confusing is the fact that there’s a flower on his front steps or in his mailbox or on top of it almost every morning. And he never catches the rascal placing them there.

So he goes out and buys a Furze from the supermarket and places it under the rock.

Anger.

***

Pete calls Brendon at 7 AM, making him an effective alarm clock, and says that he doesn’t feel well. Brendon sleepily thanks him for waking him up but asks why this news is relevant.

“It feels unfair, making people show up to work when I’m not there,” Pete replies. “So you’re free to do whatever today.”

Brendon thanks him and rolls over to sleep for another five hours.

When he wakes up, just a bit past noon, there’s a purple Hyacinth in place of the Furze.

‘I’m sorry.”

Brendon smiles and takes the flower, gives it it’s own special vase - a crystal one. This one goes on his bedside table so he can admire it each night before bed.

In response to the message, he picks a white Tulip and a deep pink Rose from his yard and leaves them in the mailbox for his flower friend to find.

***

A Gardenia. He finds a Gardenia the next day. He places it in the vase with the Hyacinth, now more curious than ever as to who’s leaving him the pretty blooms.

‘I love you in secret.’

Stupid Gardenias.

He leaves a Nightshade in the mailbox this time. He demands truth.

***

After work, Brendon checks his mail and finds a full on bouquet in the box. He pulls out the bundle of flowers and observes each and every one carefully.

There’s a variegated Tulip right next to a yellow one. ‘Beautiful eyes. There’s sunshine in your smile.’ There’s also a Snowdrop, ‘hope’. A thornless Rose, ‘love at first site’. A Primrose, ‘I can’t live without you’. A Jonquil, ‘love me’. And in the center rests a white Violet, ‘let’s take a chance’, with a note attached.

The note lists and address in the neighborhood - on the street - a date, and a time. Today’s date. The note tells Brendon to show up there at eight PM with an open mind.

Eight is in exactly two hours.


Brendon doesn’t know why he rushes to get ready. Or why he’s making himself up so much. He skips glasses and goes for contacts, wears his nicest pair of jeans and a button-down. For good measure, he throws on a fashionable vest. He spends the next hour on his hair and at 7:50, he steps out of the house.

He doesn’t bother taking his car. Judging by the house number, the event is only a couple houses down from his own. But before he starts walking, he picks Wistaria from a tree and a Wallflower from the ground.

The house Brendon finds himself at is loud - music, people, social event things. He knocks on the door and Patrick opens up with a smile.

“Brendon!” he says. “I’m glad you could make it. I knew you were coming, I just don’t know who invited you.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” Brendon mumbles.

Patrick looks at him skeptically and almost calls Brendon crazy, but instead laughs. “There’s drinks and food inside. Come on in.”

Patrick moves aside and Brendon brushes past him into the house. It’s a very warm atmosphere - a neutrally brown living room, looking fairly large for the outward appearance of the house. There’s a lot of flowers around, but Brendon guesses that, judging by what they mean, Patrick didn’t pick them for that purpose.

On of them, an orange Lily, means ‘hatred’. A yellow Hyacinth resting on a speaker means ‘jealousy’.

Someone’s hand comes down heavily on Brendon’s shoulder, and he jumps, spinning around.

“Woah, relax,” Jon laughs. “It’s only me.”

“Oh,” Brendon sighs. “And here I thought you were a criminal come to steal me away.”

“That was Plan B.”

“Plan A?”

“You look like you were looking for someone,” Jon says. “Are you?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“Maybe they’re in the backyard. Have you checked there yet?” Jon suggests.

“I didn’t think anyone would be out there.”

“Come on.” Jon grabs Brendon’s hand, causing the skin to tingle warmly, and pulls him through the back door.

As it turns out, nobody is out there. Just a couple white partly lights in bushes and a small bird bath. Not to mention the variety of flowers. Patrick has quite the garden.

“Yeah, definitely not out here,” Brendon breathes, the cold air hitting him. “Probably because it’s so damn cold.”

Jon seems to be unaffected by the temperature. He ambles about the yard, looking at all the plants and buds. He picks one flower, a small purple one. A Viscaria.

“It’s not that cold,” he says. Then he holds the flower out to Brendon, prompting him to take it. “‘Will you dance with me?’”

Brendon takes the flower, holds it gently in his hand. Almost as if on cue, a slow, easy song starts playing from within the house.

“Well?” Jon presses. “Are you going to stand there and stare at the pretty flower all night or are you going to dance with me?”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Brendon asks finally.

Jon smiles. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Flowers in the mailbox, but none on Sundays.” Brendon laughs and pulls the two flowers he’d picked earlier from his inner coat pocket.

The Wistaria and the Wallflower. ‘I cling to you’ and ‘faithfulness’. He hands them to Jon, forces them into his hand, and grins.

In retaliation, Jon pulls out a spring of Mistletoe from his back pocket. ‘Kiss me’.

And Brendon does. He takes two steps closer and stands on his toes to match Jon’s height and he kisses him soft on the lips. Jon wraps his arms around Bredon’s waist and slips the Mistletoe into his back pocket.

Brendon drops back down onto his feet and smiles again, quietly lacing his fingers with Jon’s. Jon, who seems to be made of flower tonight, reaches into his own pocket and reveals a red Rose and another Myrtle.

‘Love’ and ‘home’.

Brendon would have to agree. He feels more at home than ever.<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:5784","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/5784.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=5784"}}],"title":"Anger's a Lesser Disaster (Ch. 1)","published":"2008-11-18T05:33:12Z","updated":"2008-11-18T05:34:45Z","content":"Title<\/strong>: Anger’s a Lesser Disaster
Author<\/strong>: trylohbyte
Rating<\/strong>: R Overall
Pairing<\/strong>: Jon\/Brendon
Summary<\/strong>: To a human, it might smell like fresh-baked brownies or and warm pastry. To Jon, it was the most desirable blood out on the market.<\/em>
Disclaimer<\/strong>: Fake. Title belongs to Empires.
A\/N<\/strong>: My fingers are freezing as I type this.



It happened on a Sunday. Everyone was trying to get the best out of the insufficient means of entertainment when it occurred.

Jon knew he was stronger than most of the guards at the holding camp. Hell, he could have probably taken them all down in less than ten minutes. Problem was, there were consequences. Last time someone tried, they succeeded. Quickly, they did. But five weeks later, they were found dead, just a hundred or so miles from where he’d been kept before his escape.

The guards would bring you back if they thought you worthy of their mercy. If they did not, you were doomed.

But none of the staff was prepared for what would happen on that Sunday. There hadn’t been en escape attempt since 1973, and tensions had died down in the 32 years that had passed. But when Jon was trying to enjoy a game of Halo (even vampires can indulge in the luxury of video games), a deafening roar shook the camp.

He sighed, dropped his controller and made his way to the cafeteria.

Jon knew the vampire crouched on the ground fairly well. Her name was Victoria, she’d been born in 1793 and turned in 1817, frozen forever at age 24. On most occasions, she was known for her inexplicable ability to keep her temper in check, unless she was dealing with the newborn Gabe who couldn’t seem to keep his nose out of trouble. Today, such was not the case.

Her lips were pulled back, revealing the fangs many had doubted she even possessed. The guard across from her appeared relatively calm, but Jon could sense that he’d never been so scared in his life. Probably never been face to face with a real, infuriated vampire. It was just his luck that he would have to deal with Victoria who, despite her usual calmness, was a fierce bitch when the need arose.

“This is the fourth time this week I’ve had goat’s blood for lunch,” she growled. “I’m sick of this bullshit, this is no way for a vampire to live. You assholes are fucking with the laws of nature.”

“Miss Asher, I understand, you’re displeased,” the guard tried to sympathize.

Jon tried to remember his name. He somewhat resembled a caveman. Long, curly, unkempt hair. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in two weeks, maybe more. Heavy-lidded blue eyes. This one was Joe.

Victoria hissed, her whole body lurching forward just an inch, but in a violent manner that Joe jumped back about five feet.

It was not at all uncommon for the captives to lash out at the guards. In fact, it happened several times a month. Those poor guards, Jon thought sarcastically. Their job must be so mentally demanding, to calmly face an angry, blood-raised vampire and tell him or her that nothing in this place would change. That they would stick to drinking goat’s blood four days a week for lunch, and that never again would they be able to indulge in the “luxury” that was human’s blood. It made Jon laugh how much they thought they were bettering the world.

Vampires weren’t the only creatures who thirsted for a human’s inner wine.

Nobody expected it to go so far in the cafeteria. Especially with Victoria, who usually knew when to stop - when to take a breath and recalculate things. <I>Am I going about this the right way?<\/I> But that day. She ended up killing Joe. It took no more then one minute, which was to be expected. Jon, and every other true vampire living the after-life on Earth knew that the hippies were nowhere near as strong.

And it had ended just as seemingly nonchalantly as it had started. It began with a pint of goat’s blood. It ended with Victoria brushing off her dress and asking why everyone was staring at her. And then they all rioted, Jon being the only one standing by quietly, waiting for a chance to pat her on the back and congratulate her on her “excellent kill”.

It wasn’t until the whole of the camp staff was surrounding Joe’s body that the information sunk in. <I>All<\/I> of the staff was looking for non-existent evidence on who did this, how and why? There would be no one guarding the doors, the windows. News traveled fast in that place.

It started with Victoria speculating on it to Gabe, who’s eyes widened as he passed the information along to one Travis McCoy. And it passed along the grapevine, through countless blood-suckers until it finally reached Jon. As it turned out, it would be his decision to “break out”.

He was the first to exit the building, as he had offered to make sure no one was standing outside. And he gave the okay signal. And they fled. Every last one of them, in all different directions.

Alone, it would be hopeless to run. You would find yourself face to face with ten of the guards from your holding camp. But with friends? Jon was reluctant to bring anyone along, but when he realized Gabe, Victoria and Travis were tailing him, we didn’t have the heart to tell them to get lost. It wouldn’t have been smart to do so, anyway.

The four of them, after a couple days of endless running, had found themselves in Chicago, Illinois. At least, that’s what the signs told them.

“This is where I stop, I think,” Jon said. “Seems like a small enough town - not too suspicious.”

Victoria and Gabe, however, looked skeptical.

“I don’t know,” Victoria judged. “Don’t you think hundreds of others would have thought that, too? You don’t know how many of us are hiding out here, watching for those sad excuses for vampires.”

“I’ll be fine, but if you guys want to go one, then do so.”

“We’re going to New York,” Travis stated, as if they had it planned out. Did they? “Big city, they’ll never find us.”

“Think they won’t, hm?” Jon smirked. “If that’s your escape plan, then so be it. We’ll see each other when we do, won’t we.”

Victoria and Travis nodded, more than ready to take to the rooftops and flee another couple thousand miles. But Gabe sniffed, wiping a fake tear off of his cheek. He threw his arms around Jon and sobbed, “I’m gonna miss you, man. So many good times.”

“Yes, I witnessed your girlfriend break us out of prison and let you guys follow me to Chicago.” Jon shrugged. “So many good memories with you, Gabriel.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Victoria sighed. She pulled Gabe off of Jon and told him to get his ass off of the cynic and to New York before she killed him. He complied.

“We’ll be seeing you.” Victoria offered her hand and smiled just slightly. “Maybe. Thank you for letting us travel with you.”

Jon shook her hand. “Safe journey.”

“We’ll try.”

And they were off in a flash. Jon didn’t know whether they’d ever see each other again. It was in a vampire’s nature to wander. The real ones couldn’t stick around one place for too long, no matter how quaint or how enormous the city.

It was after they were three minutes gone, most likely fifty miles away already, that Jon finally forced himself into the streets of Chicago. It seemed, for a city with such large buildings, that there were too few people. Too few humans, that was. Jon could tell by the smell of the air that in the immediate area, there were more vampires than humans.

He shrugged and continued down one street, looking for a place to spend his days. He had plenty of money in his wallet - cash was one of the only things they didn’t take from you when you capture you. He even had a credit card he’d acquired sometime around when they first started making them. A checkbook for whatever checks he would need to write. He was completely prepared for whatever the human world would throw at him.

An hour or two later of just wandering the streets, an oddly familiar scent reached Jon’s developed nose. Kind of earthy, but overly clean. A little stiff, too. It took him two full minutes to decipher the strange smell.

It was a seeker - two of them actually. Their job was to stake out every city in search of vampires, the ones who ate as they were meant to. Once Jon had come to the realization that they were near, he also noticed that any vampire scent he’d detected earlier had gone stale.

Unable to think clearly, he threw himself in an alley and then into a dumpster, hoping it would mask his richer scent, even if only for a passing moment. It did it’s job, and the seekers passed unaware of the so-called danger that lurked just down a dark way. Jon didn’t know how long he sat in that rancid dumpster - hours at least. Long enough for the earthy scent to fade and become stale itself. It must have been more than a few hours when he finally pulled himself out of the large garbage bin.

Safe. For now.

He decided he’d better find at least a temporary place to stay the night. So he walked the opposite way, going the direction he’d come from, now more alert than before to the smells around him. And it was probably because of that that he picked up the most tempting, delectable aroma he’d ever scented in all his years.

To a human, it might smell like fresh-baked brownies or and warm pastry. To Jon, it was the most desirable blood out on the market. All worries forgotten, he stalked it and found himself outside of a fairly large house, peeping through a window on the second story.

Seeing what he had initially wanted to be his victim, it would be the first time in his history that their appearance made him change his mind and eat elsewhere.<\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:5593","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/5593.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=5593"}}],"title":"Anger's A Lesser Disaster","published":"2008-11-13T07:04:44Z","updated":"2008-11-13T07:04:44Z","content":"I said I would post the first thing I finished, and that just happens to be this sad attempt at vampirey fiction. It's not done, obviously. This is a prologue. I don't know if I'll write more, I don't know if it will ever be finished. It is something that had captured my interest for the time being and I may spend more time on it. I can't guarantee anything though. Don't get too attached~.

Title<\/strong>: Anger’s a Lesser Disaster
Rating<\/strong>: Not sure yet. If I had to take a shot at it, I'd say R for eventual violence?
Pairing<\/strong>: Vampire!Jon\/Brendon
Summary<\/strong>: Jon Walker had been locked away for hundreds of years, on the small offense of being a vampire. He couldn’t help that! So it was only a matter of time until he got out. But going so long without the scent of a human’s blood… Bad things were bound to happen.
Disclaimer<\/strong>: This is a work of FICTION. Obviously, Jon is not a vampire. Title belongs to Empires.
A\/N<\/strong>: I guess I’m a little late to hop on the vampire fic bandwagon. But I figured, well, better late than never! There’s not enough Vampire!Jon fic out there, so I took the liberty of writing some myself.

Locked away from any human civilization for over two hundred years, one would find there’s nothing really to do. Sure, you could check out the measly entertainment you may be provided with. Or you could hang out in the cafeteria with the people you’re forced to co-exist with simply because there’s no one else around. But cafeterias never have good food, anyway.

This is the predicament Jon Walker has been in since 1783. The mortal hippie movement didn’t really start until many, many years later. However, being the more socially advanced species, vampires caught on to the behavior much quicker. It wasn’t long before half the immortal population was chanting, “Humans are friends, not food.” Jon wouldn’t be pulled into such a mockery of his own kind. He’d feast on the blood of any species he damn well pleased, be it homo sapiens or sciurus carolinensis. Human blood is better than squirrel blood, though.

Jon had laughed in the faces of those ones; the ones who refused to kill a human or two or a hundred for a simple meal. They were vampires after all, and unless a “cure” was found, they would likely be vampires for eternity. How were they to help what they were? Apparently, living in denial was the way. When enough people had converted to the vegetarian vamp diet, that culture declared war against the original one. Which brought Jon to his current home.

A “Vampire Holding Camp” in an unmapped region of Minnesota. (Who the fuck goes to Minnesota, anyway?) It wasn’t built to be a prison, even though that’s how Jon saw it. It was simply meant to keep the deadly away from the dying and soon-to-be such. There was a game room that offered video games, a gym, and every basic human desire. However, the fact remained that Jon Walker, nor any vampire in the world, was human.

The cafeteria, though. That was the worst part of it all. What pure-bred vampire in his or her right mind would eat that shit? The food they served in the lunch room was a meat-eating human’s equivalent to tofu. Unnecessary, and unappetizing. Jon would have been somewhat satisfied if they at least served donated blood, but no. That would be a failure in their attempt to guide the captured vampires away from their human diet. They got the stale, dry taste of animal blood (already dead, not freshly killed) to snack on.

Jon would have to live with it, though. There seemed to be no way out.<\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:5251","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/5251.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=5251"}}],"title":"preview, anyone?","published":"2008-11-12T06:04:04Z","updated":"2008-11-12T06:06:48Z","content":"My microscopic attention span, as mentioned in my last post, is currently somewhat occupied by a little Ryan\/Brendon fic. I don't know what I'll call it, yet. I guess I'll know when I finish. But since I feel so bad for not having anything posted in five months, I'm going to give a preview. For those of you who actually read my journal. Not that there's a gratuitous amount of you. But anyway, here it is:

He looked up at me, but his eyes seemed focused on something else. I sat down next to him awkwardly for a moment before pulling him toward me and hugging him close. “You can talk to me, Ry, it’s okay,” I quietly reassured him.

He seemed to loosen up a little. After a couple minutes, I felt him tremble. He was crying. I mumbled a few ‘shh’s before going completely silent. I just let him cry. Maybe he needed it. Paige showed up at the door and gave me a questioning look. I mouthed for her to clear the table. She nodded and disappeared.

Another few minutes passed and Ryan was done. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Paige cleaned up, but if you want, she can get your dinner back out.”

“I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Okay. You wanna go out into the living room?”

He nodded against my shoulder. I got up and helped him off the ground.<\/a>

"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:5021","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/5021.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=5021"}}],"title":"trylohbyte @ 2008-11-11T00:32:00","published":"2008-11-11T08:36:16Z","updated":"2008-11-11T08:37:35Z","content":"I do realize that it's been almost five months since I've posted anything at all. And I'm deeply sorry for that. Not that I have many "fans", so to speak, to apologize to. But I feel like I should anyway. Trust me, I'm working on a lot of stories at the moment. Like, eight out of the twelve I have saved on my computer are unfinished. It's a little bit pathetic how short my attention span is. The second something is finished, beta'd or un-beta'd, you bet your asses it'll be posted.

In the meantime, anyone interested in critiquing what I've got so far? And helping me pick a title? I can give summaries~

In more personal news: Honors Geometry sucks. But seeing Cobra Starship and Forever The Sickest Kids makes everyone better.

Oh Nate Flynn, how you amuse me endlessly, I'll never know. So boring and yet so amazing."},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:4639","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/4639.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=4639"}}],"title":"We're Still Young","published":"2008-07-16T07:16:03Z","updated":"2008-07-16T07:16:03Z","content":"Title<\/span> We're Still Young
Author<\/span> <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/span> R, because it's not dirty enough to be NC-17.
Pairing<\/span> Jon\/Brendon
Summary<\/span> Jon hates the rain. He hates it more than anything.
Disclaimer<\/span> Obviously fake, since Brendon is not really<\/span> eight years younger than Jon. He only acts like it.
A\/N<\/span> I'm totally going to have to dedicate this to <\/a>silentpoetry1<\/b><\/a><\/span>  for putting up with me being ridiculously excited about this. This was a little spark of an idea a couple months ago. You should talk to <\/a>xthanewcancerx<\/b><\/a><\/span>  because she knows all about this and she put up with my rants during Algebra about it. (Which is probably why she has to retake it next year. Sorry! D:)




Jon hates the rain. He hates it more than anything.

It\u2019s probably because when his parents kicked him out, it was raining. Or maybe because his cat stinks whenever she comes in after a stormy day. Or maybe because the first time Brendon yelled at him, it had been pouring out.

Who\u2019s Brendon? Just this random kid that Jon kind of baby-sits. He\u2019s sixteen and still needs babysitting. Jon finds humor in this, sometimes. Brendon likes to say it\u2019s because his parents think he lacks the responsibility to stay home alone. But Jon knows it\u2019s because Brendon has some problems and he can\u2018t really be alone. And he\u2019s okay with that.

Brendon loves the rain. It\u2019s probably because-Jon remembers this perfectly, which is shocking, for he was only seven-he was born on a rainy night and he\u2019d almost instantly fallen asleep to the sound of the water droplets slapping the ground after he\u2019d been transported to the hospital\u2019s newborn nursery. It still has the same effect on him.

Brendon\u2019s parents love Jon. Neither of them have any idea why. It could be because he\u2019s a bit of a good influence. But he\u2019d been kicked out at Brendon\u2019s age, which should say something. And Boyd and Grace-those would be the names of the \u2018rents in question-had welcomed him into their home with open arms and open hearts. And Brendon, too. Brendon had been ecstatic.

Jon had his own place now. A small, but cozy apartment in a little-known suburb of Boston. It\u2019s only a ten minute drive from the Urie household, but when Brendon found out Jon was going to leave, he\u2019d nearly cried himself to pieces. Jon was eighteen at the time; Brendon was eleven. Jon was sure he\u2019d been the only person to see Brendon cry in a long time. Since his sixteenth birthday, Brendon visited almost daily in his fancy, new convertible. The fact that it\u2019s Brendon Urie deters Jon from his jealousy of the nice car.

Jon\u2019s not going to deny that he might be a bit too attached to the kid. But he has known him since he was an infant. He was there when he was born; he saw it. It was not pretty. When Brendon had reached that age where problems with girls (or maybe guys, Brendon never really specified who the person was he was obsessing over) started to develop, Jon had been a twenty-four hour lifeline. Then again, there was really no way he could avoid it. They lived together through those years. But if he could have, he wouldn\u2019t have.

Because maybe he loves Brendon, and there\u2019s nothing he can do about that.

***
<\/div>
It\u2019s a relatively quiet Sunday afternoon when Brendon storms through Jon\u2019s front door, making all kinds of disgruntled noises. It crosses Jon\u2019s mind briefly that Brendon should be at church, but he dismisses it because Brendon is kind of notorious for skipping. He watches, amused, as Brendon paces the floor. There is seemingly no end to the stream of angry sound effects coming from the boy\u2019s lips.

Suddenly, Brendon turns on his heel and throws his hands into the air. \u201cStop just watching me, dork!\u201d he shouts. \u201cJesus, aren\u2019t you even going to ask me what\u2019s wrong?\u201d

Jon holds back a laugh, choosing instead to smirk inwardly. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong, Brendon?\u201d he asks.

\u201cMy parents are wrong!\u201d the boy fumes. \u201cThey\u2019re all wrong! Every last piece of them, from their wrong hair follicles to their wrong toenails.\u201d

\u201cWow, way up there from the hair follicles.\u201d

\u201cYes! Their hair follicles, Jon!\u201d

It\u2019s quiet for a moment. Brendon opens his mouth to speak before Jon cuts him off with, \u201cYes, I am going to ask why. Why are they so blatantly incorrect?\u201d

\u201cBecause I told them, and they-\u201d

\u2018Wait,\u201d Jon interrupts. \u201cYou told them what?\u201d

\u201cOh, come on, Jon,\u201d Brendon whines. \u201cPlease don\u2019t make me say it, I know you know.\u201d

\u201cI know what?\u201d Jon looked genuinely confused.

\u201cI\u2019m gay, dude.\u201d

\u201cOh. Well I knew that.\u201d

\u201cI know you knew that!\u201d

\u201cShit you told your parents though. You\u2019re dumb.\u201d

Brendon narrows his eyes and glares at Jon viciously. Without warning, he dashes forward and smacks Jon over the head.

\u201cI\u2019m looking for support, not verbal chastisement, man!\u201d he shouts.

\u201cFuck! I\u2019m sorry. Jesus, calm down,\u201d Jon cries.

Brendon sighs and places his hands on his hips. \u201cI don\u2019t know what to do.\u201d

\u201cDid they kick you out?\u201d If Jon wasn\u2019t really concerned, he did a good job of looking like he was.

\u201cNo, but it\u2019s only a matter of time.\u201d Brendon sighs again and collapses onto the sofa, halfway sprawled across Jon.

Jon will deny that his heart skipped a beat at the contact.

\u201cI mean seriously, how could they not tell? I\u2019m fucking flamboyant, Jonathan Walker!\u201d He supports himself with his arms and leans up so that he\u2019s right in Jon\u2019s face. \u201cFlamboyant!\u201d

Jon\u2019s too busy calculating the small amount of space between their lips to even begin to wonder where Brendon learned the word \u2018flamboyant\u2019.

Brendon falls back onto the cushions again with another displeased noise. There\u2019s about five minutes of silence before he groans, \u201cPlease tell me there\u2019s nothing wrong with being gay.\u201d

\u201cOh, there\u2019s totally nothing wrong with it,\u201d Jon answers, maybe a bit too quickly. To make up for his haste, he adds, \u201cunless I\u2019ve been doing everything wrong for the past ten years.\u201d

\u201cNo way!\u201d Brendon\u2019s back in Jon\u2019s face again. \u201cYou\u2019re gay?\u201d

\u201cI\u2019m fucking flamboyant.\u201d

\u201cShut up. Seriously, though?\u201d

Jon nods.

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me?\u201d Brendon demands. \u201cWe can totally go shopping for tight jeans and rainbow bracelets together now.\u201d

\u201cYou already have a rainbow bracelet,\u201d Jon points out.

\u201cYeah, but I didn\u2019t spend money on this one,\u201d Brendon replies. \u201cI made this one. Speaking of which, do you want one?\u201d

Brendon\u2019s still centimeters away from Jon\u2019s face. His eyes are huge and inquisitive and it\u2019s kind of adorable. The only thing Jon could do besides kiss him right then and there was smile fondly and say, \u201cYeah, I want one.\u201d

***
<\/div>
The following week, Jon gets a call from Brendon\u2019s mother. While he\u2019s working. His cell phone vibrates in his front pocket and he jumps, nearly spilling the latte he\u2019d been preparing all over his new jeans.

The jeans that Brendon had bought and given to him along with the rainbow, beaded bracelet that read \u201cFLAMBOYANT\u201d in bold, black letters.

He huffs and gives the coffee to the patient customer, then whips his cell phone out of his pocket and answers with a displeased, \u201cHello?\u201d

\u201cJon, honey, how have you been?\u201d<\/span>

\u201cOh, Mrs. Urie, hey.\u201d

\u201cYou know you can call me Grace, dear,\u201d<\/span> Brendon\u2019s mother says pleasantly.

\u201cYeah, I know, it\u2019s just kind of- never mind. How are you?\u201d Jon asks politely.

Grace sighs, and it comes out as an irritating static noise on the other end. \u201cI\u2019m worried about Brendon,\u201d<\/span> she says. \u201cHe hasn\u2019t been himself lately. You know, since\u2026\u201d<\/span>

\u201cYeah, since the coming out deal,\u201d Jon says. \u201cYou\u2019re not too upset about that are you?\u201d

\u201cWell, there\u2019s the initial disappointment of no grandchildren, but I\u2019ve got four other kids, so that\u2019s no big deal,\u201d<\/span> Grace explains. \u201cIt\u2019s just.. Different. And I hadn\u2019t been expecting it and he just sprung it on us at a family dinner, you know?\u201d<\/span>

\u201cI see how that could be a little unsettling.\u201d

\u201cYou\u2019re such an understanding boy, Jon.\u201d<\/span>

\u201cWell, you know,\u201d Jon chuckled. \u2018\u201dI try.\u201d

\u201cAnyway, do you think you could come around sometime over the weekend and try to cheer my baby up?\u201d <\/span>Grace asks. \u201cI know you might be busy, but I would really-\u201d<\/span>

\u201cSure, Mrs.-- Grace. It\u2019s no problem,\u201d Jon agrees.

\u201cOh, thank you, dear.\u201d<\/span> She sighs again. \u201cI just hate seeing him like this<\/span>.\u201d

\u201cYeah, me too.\u201d

***
<\/div>
Jon stops by the Urie household mid-morning on Saturday. He\u2019s a bit surprised to see Brendon\u2019s father answer the door. Normally, Brendon would swing the door open and tackle Jon to the ground (which more often than not led to some bleeding). But that obviously was not going to happen today, seeing as Jon enters the house unscathed and painlessly.

So something is definitely up with Brendon.

He barely has time to say \u201cHi, Mr. Urie,\u201d before Grace is shouting \u2018\u201dIs that Jon?!\u201d and running to hug him.

Grace\u2019s hugs are probably more scary than Brendon\u2019s.

\u201cThank God you\u2019re here!\u201d she sighed. \u201cI\u2019ve been so worried about my baby. You\u2019ll know exactly what to do!\u201d

Boyd turns to the staircase and shouts \u201cBrendon! Jon is here!\u201d

Jon thinks he hears some groaning and a half-hearted protest before he\u2019s sure Brendon is most definitely not coming downstairs anytime soon.

Boyd scowls and turns back to Jon. \u201cYou\u2019ll fix him,\u201d he says, and it\u2019s a demand. Not a request.

Jon nods. \u201cI know your son better than he knows himself.\u201d

\u201cI think you know our son better than we do,\u201d Grace muses. \u201cI mean, he always goes to you when he\u2019s upset. I don\u2019t know what\u2019s making this time any different.\u201d

Jon shrugs and heads up the stairs. \u201cIf he\u2019s not coming down, I\u2019m just going to go up there. I won\u2019t be here for-\u201d

\u201cOh, don\u2019t be silly, Jon!\u201d Grace insists. \u201cYou\u2019ll stay for dinner.\u201d

That\u2019s not a request either. Brendon\u2019s mom is scarier than Brendon\u2019s dad. In a mom-ish way.

\u201cIf you say so, Grace.\u201d

She smiles triumphantly and shoos Jon up the stairs.

Jon leans against Brendon\u2019s door and presses his ear to the painted wood. He knocks softly three times and says, \u201cBrendon? It\u2019s Jon.\u201d

\u201cGo away,\u201d comes the response.

Jon frowns. \u201cNo, I\u2019m coming in. Put your fucking pants on.\u201d

When he pushes the door open, Brendon obviously did not listen as he\u2019s sprawled across his bed in nothing but an old t-shirt and his boxers. Jon tries not to stare too hard.

\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d Brendon groans.

\u201cI want to know why you\u2019re being an ass to your parents and why I don\u2019t already know,\u201d Jon clarifies. \u201cAnd why you didn\u2019t put pants on like I told you to.\u201d

\u201cYou don\u2019t want to know,\u201d Brendon sighs. \u201cAnd it\u2019s my house. I\u2019ll hang around in boxers if I fucking want to.\u201d

\u201cAlright then,\u201d Jon says. He drops himself onto the bean bag chair in the corner of the room, crosses his legs and glares pointedly at Brendon. \u201cThen I\u2019m just going to sit here until you tell me what\u2019s up.\u201d

\u201cThat really isn\u2019t going to help.\u201d

\u201cI\u2019m willing to wait for you to crack.\u201d

\u201cI won\u2019t crack.\u201d

\u201cI know you.\u201d

Brendon makes and aggravated noise and turns so he\u2019s facing the wall. It really is a convincing argument, because Jon totally does know him. But he doesn\u2019t have to fucking point it out. That\u2019s like cheating.

There\u2019s a long period of silence before Jon says, \u201cYou want to listen to some music?\u201d

\u201cNo.\u201d

Jon turns on the stereo anyway. And it\u2019s just Brendon\u2019s luck that his favorite CD was in at the time. He flips over to lie on his back so he can hear better. Jon notices and smirks. Brendon doesn\u2019t pay attention to him.

It\u2019s only a couple songs in when Brendon starts bobbing his head subconsciously to the music. Jon knows he\u2019s loosening up, and pretty soon he\u2019ll be dancing all over the place or crying in Jon\u2019s shoulder.

Either one works.

Jon guesses Brendon\u2019s pretty stubborn about not letting him know what\u2019s going on when he jumps off of the bed and exclaims, \u201cOh my God, Jon, this is my favorite song ever!\u201d

He grabs Jon\u2019s hand and pulls him out of the plush chair. \u201cCome on, you have to dance with me or something.\u201d

He stands there, teeth pulling on his lower lip while Brendon does this weird (and totally sexy) shimmy thing. He pretends he\u2019s not staring, but really, he is. And if he\u2019s getting hard just watching<\/span> this, he\u2019s not going to stick around to see what would happen if he joined in.

It\u2019s when Brendon starts playfully grinding against him that he has to bite back his moan (which is kind of a miracle) and grip the younger boy\u2019s shoulders to still him. And yeah, he totally felt that<\/span>.

\u201cBrendon,\u201d he says, and who could blame him if he was a little breathless?

Brendon stares up at him, eyes wide again but for a completely different reason this time. Jon can tell that he can\u2019t decide whether he should laugh or run or do something else monumentally stupid.

\u201cJon,\u201d he says after a while. \u201cYou\u2019re-\u201d

\u201cI\u2019ve got to go.\u201d He releases Brendon and rushes toward the door. Brendon tries to grab his arm and stop him, but Jon\u2019s too quick and he fails.

As Jon\u2019s quickly making his way down the stairs, Grace calls, \u201cI thought you were staying!\u201d

\u201cI have an appointment. Sorry, Mrs. Urie!\u201d

As he slams the door behind him, Brendon\u2019s parents exchange confused glances, then shrug like it\u2019s not a big deal. Even though it kind of is.

Brendon and Jon end up taking care of their issues<\/span> in their respective bathrooms.

***
<\/div>
Sunday, Brendon calls and stumbles over his words and does all kinds of adorable things. He\u2019s pathetic in every way and it\u2019s undeniably irresistible.

\u201cBrendon, why don\u2019t you just say what you want to say and save the both of us a lot of time and misunderstandings?\u201d Jon suggests.

\u201cUm,\u201d Brendon murmurs. \u201cI- you know, uh, remember yesterday when-\u201d

\u201cYeah, that was kind of-\u201d Jon starts.

\u201cActually, can we not talk about it? It\u2019s kind of\u2026\u201d

Don\u2019t say touchy, don\u2019t say touchy, don\u2019t say touchy.<\/span>

\u201cAwkward.\u201d

Jon lets out a breath he didn\u2019t know he was holding. \u201cYeah, it was.\u201d

\u201cAnd even though I know you probably think I\u2019m really weird or something, which I\u2019m totally not because I\u2019m a teenager and you know hormones and shit-\u201d

\u201cI get it, Brendon,\u201d Jon sighs. \u201cYou want to get to the point?\u201d

\u201cI was hoping, maybe, we could go get dinner tonight or something? Because my parents are being really shitty and annoying, and my mom can\u2019t even cook anyway, so it only makes sense that-\u201d

Jon laughs, and Brendon makes a small, squeaky sound. Like he\u2019s been hit or something.

\u201cAre you seriously asking me on a date?\u201d Jon chuckles.

\u201cNo!\u201d Brendon shouts, a little too quickly. \u201cI mean. Oh my god, no.\u201d

\u201cEither way,\u201d Jon says fondly. \u201cI think I do want to go somewhere tonight. Tell your parents, I\u2019ll be there in an hour.\u201d

Jon hangs up before Brendon can freak out on him.

***
<\/div>
Jon parks in the driveway because he knows he\u2019s more than welcome to. Besides, they have an extra space because the family only has one car (which is going to be a problem once Brendon makes more friends) and he\u2019s only going to be there for like, two minutes.

He doesn\u2019t even have to lift his hand to knock on the door before Brendon\u2019s running toward him at full speed, completely ignoring his mother\u2019s protests of \u201cNo running in the house!\u201d

Jon smiles, because the Brendon he knows (and loves) is back. He doesn\u2019t even scowl when he hit\u2019s the pavement with a thud<\/span>. He just laughs whole-heartedly and wraps his arms around Brendon\u2019s waist.

\u201cIt\u2019s nice to see you too, kid,\u201d he says.

Brendon is grinning at him. Until he realizes that there\u2019s virtually no space between their bodies. He blushes, his face going twenty shades darker, and jumps off, offering his hand to Jon to help him up. But the difference in their weights as Jon tries to pull himself up brings Brendon forward again.

Of course, he thinks he\u2019s going to hit the cement and die because he\u2019s oddly pessimistic for how energetic he is. But instead, he hits something warm and soft and it\u2019s making a weird thumping noise and it takes Brendon thirty seconds to realize he\u2019s safe (and not dead or dying) in Jon\u2019s arms. He glances up and offers an embarrassed smile.

\u201cHi,\u201d Jon laughs.

Brendon just pulls away and grins. \u201cSo, uh,\u201d he says. \u201cWhere are we going?\u201d

Jon\u2019s going to feel pretty bad if Brendon was expecting something weirdly romantic. Hesitantly, he says, \u201cI was thinking South Street Diner. It\u2019s not that nice or anything but-\u201d

\u201cNo, it\u2019s cool. Seriously. Come on!\u201d Brendon grabs Jon\u2019s hand and pulls him toward Jon\u2019s old pick-up truck. \u201cBye mom!\u201d he calls over his shoulder.

\u201cBye honey!\u201d his mother shouts back. \u201cTake good care of my son, Jonathan!\u201d

Jon turns and grins at Grace which seems to satisfy her as she shuts the front door, smiling about something like knitting or book clubs or her son going on a date with someone eight years older than him.

Was it even a date?

They get to the restaurant and eat well-made, casual meals and talk about stupid things like music and Brendon\u2019s school and nothing that really matters. It\u2019s generally a perfect night, or as perfect as it gets with ten or more groups seated in the tables around you. And Jon could have gone for dimmer lights and less noise, but it\u2019s as good as it\u2019s going to get for now. So it\u2019s perfect.

When they get back to the house, Brendon is saying all the things you\u2019d expect him to. Things like \u201cI had a really nice time\u201d and \u201cThat was really fun, we should totally do it again.\u201d Even though he probably was feeling pretty awkward the whole time and it was just dinner. It wasn\u2019t that<\/span> fun.

But Jon still looks at him like he hung the stars in the sky because the dim moonlight is making his already smooth facial features softer and he kind of wants to reach out and touch except holy shit he just did. And Brendon took it as was intended, but that\u2019s not what Jon wants at all<\/span>. He wants to go home and pretend that this wasn\u2019t a date of any kind and that they were just a kid and his babysitter going out to eat because Mrs. Urie is a terrible chef.

But he\u2019s not going to protest when Brendon wraps his arm around Jon\u2019s neck and leans in just slightly. Their lips are mere centimeters apart and Jon\u2019s body is screaming kisskisskiss!<\/span> but his mind is very pissed off at him for being a dumb-ass and taking minors on dates.

He leans in so that his lips are barely brushing Brendon\u2019s ear, which makes the boy shiver and shut his eyes. And he\u2019s not even thinking of anyone but himself when he whispers, \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I can\u2019t do this.\u201d

Brendon sighs, and Jon can feel the warm puff of air on his neck.

\u201cCan\u2019t do what?\u201d Brendon murmurs.

\u201cAnything that I want to,\u201d he says. He pulls back and rests his forehead on Brendon\u2019s. Their noses are touching and there\u2019s definitely some tears in Brendon\u2019s eyes, but he\u2019s trying so hard not to let them fall, so Jon doesn\u2019t say anything about it.

\u201cBecause this is just kind of ridiculous, and I would love to just- It would be really awesome if I could-\u201d He sighs and brushes his lips against Brendon\u2019s briefly, then pulls back again and continues, \u201cIf I could just do that or something. But I can\u2019t.\u201d

He untangles himself from Brendon and takes a few steps backward. \u201cI\u2019m twenty-four,\u201d he says, as if it\u2019s supposed to be some sort of conclusion. \u201cI just can\u2019t.\u201d

And with a shrug, he\u2019s walking back to his car and Brendon\u2019s running in the house again. But Grace can\u2019t be bothered to care about that, because she\u2019s too busy asking, \u201cBrendon, honey, what\u2019s wrong?\u201d And Jon should have known he would cry.

As if things couldn\u2019t get any worse, it starts to rain before Jon gets in his truck. And it\u2019s still raining when he gets to his apartment.

Neither of them sleep very well that night.

***
<\/div>
\u201cI want to know what happened, Jonathan,\u201d <\/span>Grace demands, as if she\u2019s his own mother. \"Why did my boy come home in tears?\u201d <\/span>

Within that, Jon can hear \u201cwhat the fuck did you do, asshole?\u201d but Grace is too wholesome to actually curse or anything. He\u2019s balancing a mocha and a frappuccino in one hand while trying to grab a croissant with the other. His head is pressed against his shoulder with the cell phone wedged in between and he really does not have time for this right now because people are just starting to get off work and they not only needed their morning coffee, they need their lunch break coffee and their nighttime coffee too.

Jon sighs as he hands the customer her order. She looks mildly annoyed at Jon\u2019s poor customer service skilled, but he silently muses that he\u2019s never going to see her again and she doesn\u2019t mean shit. Not right now.

\u201cWhat do you want me to say, Grace?\u201d Jon asks. \u201cI already told you, if I did anything, it was by complete accident and I don\u2019t know what it was. Is that not good enough for you?\u201d

It was a lie, but he wasn\u2019t going to say \u2018I kissed your sixteen year old son after I took him on a date and told him I couldn\u2019t do it.\u2019

\u201cHe never comes home like that,\u201d <\/span>Grace says loudly, and if not for her sweet nature, Jon would think she was yelling. \u201cNot when he\u2019s been with you. He usually gets back with the brightest smile on his face and I thought Boyd told you to fix things, not make them worse.\u201d<\/span>

\u201cLook, I\u2019m sorry for-\u201d

\u201cOh, don\u2019t you go apologizing to me. Tell Brendon you\u2019re sorry.\u201d<\/span>

Jon scowls as he remembers how many times he tried to call last night and every time, it went to voicemail.

\u201cI will.\u201d Somehow. \u201cOkay?\u201d

Grace sounds more than pleased with herself. \u201cGood. Have fun serving scones and stuff.\u201d<\/span>

Brendon\u2019s mother can go from pissed to cheery in a matter of minutes, and it was really beginning to confuse Jon. He throws his apron toward a skinny, brown-haired boy entering the coffee shop and says, \u201cRyan, I have business to take care of. Take over?\u201d

Ryan looks around at all the impatient customers and whines a little, but begrudgingly agrees to cover the rest of Jon\u2019s shift.

***
<\/div>
Jon thinks that apologizing to Brendon in person is going to work better than trying for hours on end to get through to his cell phone. Sure, it\u2019s going to be hard as hell for him, but Brendon is the only person who really matters in this case.

Jon might be torn, but he\u2019d taken it out on someone else, and that\u2019s never the right choice.

The door is locked, and he could do without a confrontation with Grace. So he reached into his back pocket and pulls out his multitude of keys, choosing the one that fit\u2019s the lock and pushing the door open.

As quietly as he can, he heads up the stairs and just like before, he leans against Brendon\u2019s door and knocks quietly. \u201cBrendon? It\u2019s Jon. Can I come in?\u201d

It\u2019s pretty quiet, except Jon can hear some ragged breathing. He thinks he hears a moan or two, but he quickly dismisses that as his imagination (and wishful thinking). But then he hears his name and a sigh kind of mixed together, so he opens the door and-

Yeah, not what he'd been expecting.

Brendon is lying on the bed, one hand down his boxers and the other fisted in the sheets. He\u2019s giving Jon this mortified look, like he\u2019s about to cry or something. Jon wouldn\u2019t really be surprised.

What does surprise him, though, is that Brendon gets up and moves cautiously toward Jon. He\u2019s really too shocked to move or anything, so he lets Brendon push him against the door and capture his lips. And fuck it - he\u2019s not going to protest. Because despite his constant thoughts of \u201cwow, you freak, you\u2019re in love with a teenager\u201c<\/span>, this is fucking awesome.<\/span>

In the back of his mind, he\u2019s still thinking Jon, you\u2019re such a sick fuck<\/span>. But then Brendon rolls his hips and Jon\u2019s brain is gone for the time being.

Brendon is moaning quietly in his ear, and the moist puffs of air reaching his neck is enough to send shivers down his spine. Any blood he may have had in his face had rushed south.

The younger boy\u2019s voice isn\u2019t fully developed yet, so when he starts getting really into it, the moans are cracking in the middle. And Jon would feel embarrassed for the kid if it wasn\u2019t so fucking sexy<\/span>.

Confusion would have taken over if there was really much to be confused about. But all Jon can comprehend at the moment is Brendon grinding against him and moaning and just wow<\/span>. So instead of stopping him like he probably should have, he grips the boy\u2019s hips tightly and keeps him moving.

When Brendon\u2019s breath hitches and he tenses, Jon knows he\u2019s reached the point of no return and yeah, he just came in his new jeans. But still, that doesn\u2019t matter yet, because the only thing that\u2019s important is oh my God, I just got off with Brendon<\/span>.

And then it\u2019s oh my<\/span> God, I just got off with<\/span> Brendon. Who\u2019s<\/span> sixteen.

And then shit, Brendon is totally crying, isn\u2019t he<\/span>?

Yeah, he totally was. There was sniffling and tears on Jon\u2019s shoulder and shit, there was even some trembling.

Jon sighs and lifts Brendon, carrying him over to the bed and seating him on it. He kneels down in front of him and places his hands on Brendon\u2019s knees. \u201cOkay,\u201d he says. \u201cWhy are you crying?\u201d

\u201cBecause I shouldn\u2019t have done that and I\u2019m stupid and hormonal and you don\u2019t even love me and I-\u201d

Jon places his hand over Brendon\u2019s mouth in an attempt to shut him up. It doesn\u2019t work, because Brendon\u2019s still talking even though his words are muffled and incomprehensible.

So Jon does the next best thing. He leans up and stops Brendon\u2019s lips from moving by forcing his own onto them. When he tries to pull back, Brendon just puts his hand on the back of Jon\u2019s neck and forces him back down.

He finally breaks free, though he doesn\u2019t pull back too much, and he whispers, \u201cYou really are an idiot, aren\u2019t you?\u201d

\u201cI don\u2019t know what makes you say that, but probably,\u201d Brendon replies.

\u201cDouche bag,\u201d Jon laughs. \u201cI love you more than anything in the entire world.\u201d Then he makes a weird growling sound and flips over so he\u2019s lying on his back on the bed. \u201cIt\u2019s just. Fuck, I can\u2019t do this. We can\u2019t do this.\u201d

Brendon frowns and watches Jon out of the corner of his eye. \u201cCan\u2019t do what?\u201d he asks.

\u201cShit. This!\u201d Jon has resorted to shouting, because it\u2019s just that frustrating. Jumping off the bed, he points to Brendon and his tainted boxers.

\u201cThis as in what? Me and you?\u201d Brendon looks up at Jon. There are still tears in his eyes, but he\u2019s doing a pretty good job of keeping them there. \u201cOr\u2026 this. This thing?\u201d

Jon deflates and any and all anger is gone. He pulls Brendon toward him and squeezes him in a tight, but comforting hug.

\u201cBrendon, there\u2019s always going to be me and you,\u201d he insists. \u201cJust not. Not in the way we want. I mean, you\u2019re the coolest kid I know and you\u2019re pretty much my best friend in the entire world-\u201d

\u201cEven though I\u2019m sixteen?\u201d

\u201cOf course. Why should it matter that-\u201d

Brendon shoves Jon away and shouts, \u201cThen why can\u2019t we be more than just friends<\/span>?\u201d

Jon makes a loud, aggravated noise and yells back, \u201cIf you don\u2019t already know, then I\u2019m not going to tell you!\u201d

\u201cThat\u2019s totally immature, Jon,\u201d Brendon huffs.

\u201cImmature? I\u2019m fucking twenty-four.\u201d

\u201cI get that. You\u2019re twenty-four, I\u2019m sixteen and my mom is fucking forty-two.\u201d He stomps over to Jon and jabs him in the chest with his finger. \u201cPeople can stamp a number on us all they want, but it\u2019s not going to change a god damn thing, and you know that.\u201d

Jon sighs, because he\u2019s totally defeated, but he\u2019s going to be ridiculous and stomp out of the house and cry like a baby and possibly go out and get hammered.

\u201cYou know what? Fine! If I know so well that age doesn\u2019t matter then I\u2019m going to be ridiculous and stomp out of this house and cry like a baby and possibly go out and get hammered!\u201d

Jon swings the door open so harshly that it bangs loudly against the wall. Brendon can hear his mother gasp downstairs and her puzzling tone as she asks what happened.

\u201cFine then, asshole,\u201d he calls after Jon. \u201cI\u2019m going to stay here and remind myself why this is never going to work because you\u2019re a fucking baby.\u201d

Smooth.<\/span>

Grace invites herself into Brendon\u2019s room and says, \u201cHoney, I think you know that you\u2019re just going to sit here and mope around for the next month without him.\u201d

\u201cNo,\u201d Brendon snaps. \u201cI\u2019m going to be at his apartment Wednesday evening pretending this never happened. That\u2019s what Jon always says will happen.\u201d

\u201cI thought he was a baby, though.\u201d

\u201cGo away, Mom.\u201d

***
<\/div>
Brendon\u2019s prediction was off by one day. It\u2019s about four o\u2019clock on Tuesday when Brendon invites himself in and says, \u201cSo guess what, Jon?\u201d

Jon is making a sandwich in the kitchen. \u201cWhat?\u201d he asks.

\u201cI met a guy at school today.\u201d

Jon\u2019s heart drops faster than his knife. He walks over to the counter that Brendon has seated himself upon and presses, \u201cOh yeah? What\u2019s his name?\u201d

\u201cSpencer. He\u2019s totally awesome.\u201d And just to be a dick, he adds, \u201cHe\u2019s sixteen.\u201d

Jon glares and replies, \u201cOh, I thought maybe it might have been the band teacher.\u201d

Brendon scowls and contemplates punching Jon in the stomach. But that probably wouldn\u2019t do much good seeing as Jon was stronger and Brendon was a weak hitter anyway.

\u201cSo are you happy for me?\u201d

Jon drops the peanut butter onto the counter and asserted, \u201cYes, Brendon. I am fucking ecstatic that you found a playmate your own age.\u201d

\u201cA playmate?\u201d Brendon jumps off the counter and corners Jon against the refrigerator. \u201cExcuse me?\u201d

\u201cThat\u2019s all you seem to be interested in.\u201d

\u201cFuck this!\u201d Brendon fumes. He stomps to the door, but before exiting, he shouts, \u201cYou know, I came to tell you something I was happy about to see if you\u2019d feel the same.\u201d

\u201cWell, I obviously don\u2019t,\u201d Jon yells.

\u201cOf course. You never have.\u201d

The second the door slams shut, Jon\u2019s back slides down the refrigerator door and he\u2019s collapsed onto the cold, tile floor. Crying is a definite maybe, but he\u2019s too caught up in his own stupidity to even care. He glances around the kitchen for something that will ease the pain a little bit and sees Brendon\u2019s homemade rainbow bracelet.

That\u2019s got to be returned.

***
<\/div>
After work the next day (or more like after Jon gets sick of catering to unappreciative bastards and hands his apron over to Ryan), Jon heads over to Brendon\u2019s place. It doesn\u2019t even phase him that there\u2019s a second car in the driveway. He just parks on the curb and hops up the porch steps to the front door. He knocks once. Twice. And then Grace is opening the door, smiling at him from the doorway.

\u201cHi Jon,\u201d she greets warmly. \u201cBrendon has-\u201d

Jon offers a mere wave before running up the stairs and finds Brendon\u2019s door again. This time he doesn\u2019t knock, which wouldn\u2019t make a difference either way. When he opens the door, he expects to find Brendon listening to his iPod or maybe even doing the deed<\/span> again. But what he sees instead is some chubby kid with his lips attached to Brendon\u2019s and his hand where it definitely should not be.

Jon manages to squeak, \u201cOh,\u201d before dropping the bracelet onto the ground and running back out the door.

The chubby boy looks bewildered as Brendon pushes him away and curses, \u201cShit. Jon!\u201d

As soon as Brendon is up, the boy is following him, trying to get him to come back to the bedroom. But Brendon has drowned out every voice except the one in his head telling him how much of an idiot he is.

All three of them are too confused to notice it\u2019s raining out.

Jon is crossing the street, heading toward his car on the other side when Brendon shouts, \u201cJon, turn the fuck around!\u201d

Jon stops in the middle of the road, but doesn\u2019t turn. Brendon takes the opportunity to catch up to him and force him to turn himself.

\u201cIt\u2019s not what you think.\u201d

\u201cIt\u2019s not?\u201d Jon asks. \u201cBecause I\u2019m pretty sure I saw you in your room with some random-ass kid all over you and you were definitely not wearing your rainbow bracelet.\u201d

\u201cThat was Spencer,\u201d Brendon clarifies.

\u201cBecause that\u2019s supposed to make things better, right?\u201d

Spencer is still yelling for Brendon to come back inside because fuck, it\u2019s pouring out and he\u2019s going to catch a cold or something. After a few more attempts, he sighs angrily and speeds away in his car. That explains car number two in the driveway.

\u201cLook, if you want to fuck around with him, I get it,\u201d Jon says. \u201cHe\u2019s-\u201d

\u201cNot you.\u201d

\u201cWhat?\u201d

\u201cHe\u2019s not you, Jon.\u201d Brendon looks down and reluctantly pulls up the sleeves of his hoodie.

It takes Jon a moment to see through the rain that it\u2019s not just an odd pattern of scars and scratches. No, those cuts definitely spell out his name.

\u201cIf he was you, it would probably say Spencer Smith. Not Jon Walker.\u201d Brendon snaps his fingers in front of Jon\u2019s face to get him to match his gaze. \u201cHe\u2019s not you, and he\u2019s never going to be you. You were here first. There\u2019s no room for anyone else. Literally.\u201d

Jon\u2019s eyes are drifting back down to Brendon\u2019s scarred arms again. Through the shock and the speechlessness, he manages to choke out, \u201cWhy? Why would you do that to yourself? I\u2019m making you hurt yourself and that\u2019s just. That\u2019s shitty of me.\u201d

Brendon takes Jon\u2019s face in his hands, and for once, he feels like he might be the older one in this situation. \u201cStop giving me reasons to hurt myself and I won\u2019t.\u201d

\u201cWhat have I been doing? I can\u2019t stop if-\u201d

\u201cYou\u2019re twenty-four. And I\u2019m sixteen.\u201d

\u201cAnd you\u2019re mom is forty-two.\u201d

\u201cYou finally get it,\u201d Brendon smiles. \u201cIt\u2019s not going to change a god damn thing.\u201d

A huge grin breaks out across Jon\u2019s face and Brendon practically throws himself forward. Jon\u2019s a little surprised that he didn\u2019t fall backward this time. But that\u2019s not important. What\u2019s important is that Brendon\u2019s legs are around his waist and his hands are buried in Jon\u2019s messy hair and that they\u2019re kissing.

Like they mean it.

There\u2019s some kind of moisture in there and neither of them can tell whether it\u2019s the rain or their own tears, but it doesn\u2019t matter, because either way. It\u2019s perfect.

Brendon pulls back and whispers, \u201cGod, Jon, I love you.\u201d And it\u2019s kind of a miracle that he can be heard of the rain.

Jon knows that Grace is probably watching them through the window. But something tells him that she\u2019s happier than she\u2019s ever been because Brendon\u2019s happier than he\u2019s ever been.

So kisses Brendon again and says, \u201cI love you too, Brendon.\u201d

Jon doesn\u2019t hate the rain so much anymore.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:4425","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/4425.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=4425"}}],"title":"Obsequious [FINAL]","published":"2008-07-03T18:04:54Z","updated":"2008-07-03T18:04:54Z","content":"Title<\/b> Obsequious
Author<\/b> <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/b> PG
Pairing<\/b> Jon\/Brendon, William\/Travis, Pete\/Patrick and failed Ryan\/Brendon
Summary<\/b> \u201cYou go, Glen Coco!\u201d<\/i>
Disclaimer<\/b> FAKE. STILL. Cut belongs to The Starting Line; \u201cBest of Me\u201d.
A\/N<\/b> With much reluctance, I bring the final installment of Obsequious. Chapter eight of eight. The grand finale. I\u2019m sorry to see this one go, as it was one of my favorites. If you\u2019re a fan (omg, do I have fans?!), expect some new stuff coming soon. I have at least three unfinished standalones that I hope to have finished and posted soon. Until then: much peace and love. (Also, power to the people, keep on keepin' on, and many other Lennon-esque sayings.)

Brendon hates his job. His uniform is a tacky combination of a bright blue t-shirt and khaki cargos. Even in the middle of winter, there are inflatable palm trees waving in his face when he works the register. And the scent of tropical fruit can get sickening after a year and a half of employment at the mall\u2019s Smoothie Hut.

The only good thing about working in the food court is that his friends don\u2019t mind hanging around until his shift is over. While he\u2019s behind the counter, taking orders, Travis and William are sharing a Strawberry-Kiwi smoothie at a nearby table. Jon went off to go buy some flip flops - as if he needs another pair. Pete and Patrick are sharing a plate of Italian crap. And even Ashlee, who had recently come to terms with the way her ex-boyfriend is, is there, laughing along with their conversation. Brendon still holds his grudge though.

However, Ryan has brought his dark cloud of doom into the area. He\u2019s seated at the farthest table from Brendon, his back toward the fake trees. From what Brendon can see, he\u2019s picking at some Chinese food that he probably only bought to look like he wasn\u2019t watching Brendon out of the corner of his eye. It\u2019s not working though. It\u2019s been obvious since the break-up that Ryan can\u2019t and could never keep his eyes off of him.

Brendon knows there\u2019s going to be drama as soon as Jon comes into his peripheral vision. The second his boyfriend shows up, Ryan stands up and walks toward Brendon. He looks much too optimistic and Brendon already knows what he wants. Jon stops walking once Ryan\u2019s reached his destination. He throws a nervous glance in Brendon\u2019s direction.

Brendon has to be professional though. As professional as a cashier can get. He straightens his posture, looks Ryan right in the eye and asks, \u201cWhat can I get for you?\u201d

\u201cAre second chances on the menu?\u201d Ryan tries.

Brendon laughs bitterly. \u201cSecond chances? I\u2019m afraid we\u2019re fresh out. Had you acted on the first, you wouldn\u2019t be asking for one now.\u201d

\u201cBrendon, I\u2019m not joking. I was stupid and-\u201d

\u201cYou think?\u201d

They\u2019re not loud. They\u2019re not making a scene at all. From any other person\u2019s point of view, it\u2019s just mindless banter between cashier and customer. But to Brendon\u2019s friends, it\u2019s a catastrophe waiting to happen. William and Travis are watching worriedly. Since the end of it all, they\u2019d been filled in on exactly what went on behind the scenes of Brendon and Ryan\u2019s relationship. It doesn\u2019t matter that they\u2019re in public now. Violet tendencies can take action anywhere at any time.

Pete is glaring at Ryan\u2019s back. Patrick, who still hadn\u2019t been told of any of the shit that had happened, is giving Pete a confused stare. Ashlee tries not to watch. She tries to pretend that she doesn\u2019t care about the boy that holds a hard grudge against her. But deep down, she\u2019s a caring soul and she can\u2019t help but glance momentarily at the boys.

\u201cLook, Brendon, can you just give me a minute to explain myself?\u201d Ryan demands in a hushed tone.

Brendon stares him down before sighing and giving in.

\u201cFine,\u201d he says. \u201cBut hurry it up. I\u2019m only obligated to listen to you for ten more minutes.\u201d

\u201cYou won\u2019t understand how much I miss you. I know, I made a lot of stupid mistakes but though them, I loved you. A lot. And I need you, B,\u201d Ryan sighs. \u201cI know I hurt you and I screwed everything up. And I am so sorry. But I just want you to trust me again. Like you did when you loved me.\u201d

Brendon closes his eyes and runs Ryan\u2019s words through his mind. He ponders them silently, drumming his fingers on the keys of the cash register. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he opens his eyes and stares at Ryan. Maybe even through him.

\u201cYou want me to trust you?\u201d he says.

Ryan nods, thinking he\u2019s won Brendon over.

\u201cTrust? You don\u2019t deserve my trust. You never did. You don\u2019t deserve my trust, and you sure as hell don\u2019t deserve a second chance.\u201d

At that moment, Brendon\u2019s co-worker, Hayley, comes out with a smoothie prepared for a waiting customer. Without hesitation, Brendon grabs it from her hand, pulls the plastic lid off and dumps the contents on Ryan\u2019s head.

Ryan\u2019s jaw drops and he glares angrily through his dripping fringe at Brendon. From the nearby tables, there\u2019s a shocked, girly gasp. An amused giggling, a quiet \u201coh, burn,\u201d and a loud laughter.

William shouts, \u201cYou go, Glen Coco!\u201d, clapping his hands excitedly. From what Brendon can see, Travis is the source of the loud laughter and Pete is speechless. Ashlee\u2019s jaw is dropped in the same fashion as Ryan\u2019s, but in more of an \u201comg-that-was-so-awesome\u201d kind of way. Patrick is quietly giggling to himself.

As Jon runs over, Brendon takes his navy blue apron off and slings it on one of the provided hooks.

\u201cSorry, Hayley,\u201c he apologizes. \u201cI would love to make up another one of those smoothies for you, but my shift is over and I promised my boyfriend a date.\u201d

Hayley is nearly doubled over with laughter, her fiery locks hanging in her face and shaking along with the rest of her body.

\u201cThat\u2019s alright,\u201d she chokes out between muffled giggles. \u201cI totally understand.\u201d

Ryan is still glaring viciously at the two employees. His jaw is now closed and he\u2019s gritting his teeth together angrily. Finally, without another word, he stomps away from the food court. The trail of orange smoothie he leaves behind leaves the group laughing harder.

Jon pulls Brendon toward him and kisses him quickly.

\u201cYou, my dear, are ridiculous,\u201d he chuckles. \u201cBut I love you anyway.\u201d

\u201cDid you expect me to take that kindly?\u201d Brendon replies.

\u201cNo, but I didn\u2019t expect you to dump a smoothie all over him.\u201d

William dashes over and shouts excitedly, \u201cI did! Apparently, there is much you have to learn about this one.\u201d

Travis appears beside his boyfriend and slings an arm over William\u2019s shoulders. Pete and Patrick show up behind him, hand in hand. Ashlee follows silently behind them.

\u201cWell,\u201d Jon says after a moment of quiet. \u201cShall we get going then?\u201d

Brendon nods. The group leaves for their triple date plus one girl, who Brendon ends up liking after a few weeks of prodding.

Things are finally good again.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:4176","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/4176.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=4176"}}],"title":"Obsequious [7\/8]","published":"2008-06-25T07:03:31Z","updated":"2008-06-25T07:03:31Z","content":"Title<\/b> Obsequious
Author<\/b> <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/b> R for more abuse. =[
Pairing<\/b> Jon\/Brendon, Ryan\/Brendon, William\/Travis, and wow, Pete\/Patrick
Summary<\/b> \"You\u2019re even more worthless than I am.\"
<\/i>Disclaimer<\/b> Still fake. Cut belongs to Good Charlotte; \"Dance Floor Anthem\".
A\/N<\/b> I hope you all are pleased. I know one or two of you did not want this kind of ending. D: I don't really like this chapter. It did not come out as I had planned. =[


On the drive back to Ryan\u2019s place, Brendon had gone from sad to extremely angry. From sobbing to fuming in a matter of minutes. Because Ryan ruins everything<\/i> and he\u2019s absolutely positive that love is not supposed to be like this. When they pull into the driveway, Ryan seems as calm as ever, but Brendon knows now not to trust his outward appearance.

Because on the inside, he\u2019s probably the same monster he\u2019s always been.

As they walk (or in Brendon\u2019s case- stomp) through the front door, Ryan asks, \u201cAre you pleased with yourself?\u201d

\u201cFor what?\u201d Brendon shouts, immediately shocked by his own behavior. He continues to yell nevertheless. \u201cFor finally escaping this cage and doing what I want for once? Yes. I am.\u201d

\u201cI didn\u2019t mean that. I meant for cheating<\/i> on me.\u201d

Brendon laughs. \u201cCheating on you? Is this even really a relationship?\u201d

\u201cI\u2019d say it is, considering-\u201d

\u201cI kissed him. Because he\u2019s worth kissing. I don\u2019t know why I wasted my time on you. You\u2019re nothing.\u201d

***<\/center>

Jon fishes in his pockets for the keys that are hopefully still there. He sighs, relieved, when he finally pulls them out. The drive to Ryan\u2019s house is quick and quiet. The empty air would be so much nicer if it was filled with Brendon\u2019s laughter.

There\u2019s no more room in the driveway, so Jon parks Brendon\u2019s car by the curb and climbs out of the driver\u2019s seat. He almost locks the door, but decides against it because whatever\u2019s going on inside- well, he doesn\u2019t want to allow Ryan to feign innocence after he hears the beeping signal.

Quietly and slowly, Jon sneaks up to the front door and presses his ear to the cool wood. He hears muffled arguments and can hardly make them out, but when he does, he\u2019s shocked to hear that Brendon is the one yelling.


***<\/center>

\u201cWhat did you just say?\u201d Ryan fumes.

\u201cI said that he\u2019s more worth kissing than you are,\u201d Brendon replies. \u201cYou always hated it when I lied, didn\u2019t you? I\u2019m finally being honest, because now there\u2019s not a single thing you can do to me. You want more fucking honesty? You\u2019re even more worthless than I am.\u201d

Ryan stands frozen, his eyes disbelievingly scouring the suddenly bold boy before him. No one has ever talked back to him like that, and at first he doesn\u2019t know how to handle it. But then he chooses to do what he always does. That\u2019s never the best for anyone.

Brendon doesn\u2019t stumble back when the blow comes quick across his face. His head turns to the side with the force of it, but he says nothing. After a moment of silence, he chuckles. Not because it\u2019s funny. He\u2019s relieved.

\u201cThat doesn\u2019t hurt as much as it did when I was actually in love with you,\u201d he laughs. He\u2019s nowhere near hysterics, but anyone would think he\u2019s crazy now.

Slowly, he turns his head to stare Ryan down. He knows what he should do. He should fight back, and he should throw some of his own punches. Maybe try at a kick or two. But he\u2019s better than that. As he backs up toward the door, he whispers, \u201cI don\u2019t need you anymore. This? It\u2019s done.\u201d

Before he can take another step back, the door swings open and Jon is grinning at him like a crazy man.

\u201cI thought I would have to do that for you,\u201d he smiles.

Brendon returns his bright smile. \u201cJon,\u201d is all he says.

\u201cBrendon.\u201d

They\u2019re polite enough to close the door on Ryan when they kiss. They take their own cars this time to drive back to the place they call home. It\u2019s the same house for both of them.

Ryan will deny crying himself to sleep that night.

***<\/center>

Jon and Brendon don\u2019t show up at school on Monday. They\u2019re absent on Tuesday, too. But when they arrive on Wednesday, hand in hand, they\u2019re flooded with \u201cwhere have you been?\u201d\u2019s and \u201cwhat happened?\u201d\u2019s from their two favorite people in the world (not counting each other).

\u201cRoad trip,\u201d Jon states simply. \u201cCan\u2019t expect us to cope without taking a break every now and then.\u201d

William drags them to the table where Pete is waiting for them. He smiles when he sees them and William shouts, \u201cThey\u2019re back, Pete!\u201d

\u201cYeah, I can see that, Bill,\u201d Pete says. \u201cSo what\u2019s the deal, kids?\u201d

Jon and Brendon sit down at the table. William and Travis seat themselves across from the couple.

\u201cWe took a little time to find what\u2019s right,\u201d Brendon sighs, snuggling up against Jon.

\u201cSo you\u2019ve finally seen what\u2019s always been meant to be, huh?\u201d Travie says.

\u201cTravis, you are so deep,\u201d William swoons.

\u201cUm. Ew, too much lovey dovey,\u201d Jon jokes. \u201cSo Pete, where\u2019s the girlfriend.\u201d

\u201cYou mean the boyfriend?\u201d Travis laughs, raising his voice suddenly. Pete pulls his hood over his eyes and shakes his head.

\u201cTrav, come on, man,\u201d he pleads.

\u201cHe broke up with Ashlee because he found out that men are sexier than women,\u201d William says. \u201cHe may or may not have been cheating on her the whole time. He refuses to spill.\u201d

\u201cOoh, show us the boy, Peter!\u201d Brendon demands.

Reluctantly, Pete stands up and walks away from the table. Brendon and Jon are worried that they\u2019ve made him angry, but a few moments later, he returns with a boy on his arm.

\u201cPatrick, these two are Brendon and Jon. You know Will and Travie,\u201d Pete introduces. \u201cBrendon, Jon. This is Patrick. He\u2019s amazing, basically.\u201d

Patrick smiles and waves and offers a shy, \u201cHello.\u201d

Pete convinces Patrick to sit with them for lunch. The table is finally crowded again. As it should be.

And everybody is too busy talking and laughing about important things to notice Ryan\u2019s sad glances from his new table.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:3920","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/3920.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=3920"}}],"title":"Obsequious [6\/8]","published":"2008-06-19T01:00:20Z","updated":"2008-06-19T01:00:20Z","content":"Title<\/b> Obsequious
Author<\/b> <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/b> PG-13
Pairing<\/b> Jon\/Brendon, Brendon\/Ryan, William\/Travis
Summary<\/b> \"You're the only reason I've smiled in days.\"<\/i>
Disclaimer<\/b> Fake. Cut belongs to Cute Is What We Aim For; \"The Curse of Curves\".
A\/N<\/b> Sorry this one is short. It's just a bit of a filler chapter. I think you Jon\/Brendon fans will like the next chapter.


Brendon and Jon are lying silently in the grass at the local park. There are crickets chirping, and the wind is blowing just slightly and things are okay. For now, at least. They don\u2019t speak for a long time. They just lay there and enjoy each other\u2019s presence. They\u2019ve been out so long that the moon is starting to disappear behind the hills in the distance.

\u201cYou\u2019d think with so many things to talk about, it wouldn\u2019t be so quiet,\u201d Jon sighs.

Brendon frowns and says, \u201cI just don\u2019t want to think about it right now, Jon.\u201d

\u201cThat\u2019s okay. I\u2019ll force it out of you some day. I\u2019m never going to let you- this go,\u201d Jon replies. \u201cYou\u2019ll never hear the end of it, kid.\u201d

Brendon\u2019s frown turns up into a smile and he lets out a small chuckle.

\u201cI don\u2019t know what I would do without you, Jon\u201d he murmurs. \u201cYou\u2019re the only reason I\u2019ve smiled in days.\u201d

\u201cDays, huh?\u201d Jon laughs. \u201cThat\u2019s crazy, especially for you.\u201d

\u201cWell, it\u2019s hard to smile when you don\u2019t know if what you have is what you really want. How do you do it, Jon?\u201d

\u201cHow do I smile?\u201d Jon repeats. \u201cI know what I want. And I\u2019m close enough to it that I can be content.\u201d

\u201cWhat do you want? Please, give me some ideas so I can work this out.\u201d

Jon leans on his elbow and twists so he is leaning over Brendon. He smiles fondly and Brendon tries to smile back, but it comes out awkward and strange. He gives up after about thirty seconds of trying.

\u201cWhat makes you so happy, Jon?\u201d he whispers.

Jon leans in and brushes his lips against Brendon\u2019s lightly. Brendon doesn\u2019t hesitate to pull him down for a deeper, more passionate kiss. When they break apart, Jon\u2019s lips hover over Brendon\u2019s as if he can\u2019t decide whether to speak or whether to steal another kiss.

\u201cYou make me happy, B,\u201d he sighs. \u201cEvery little thing about you. I love you.\u201d

\u201cJon, I lo-\u201d

The two are startled by the squealing of tires against asphalt. Jon quickly backs away from Brendon and turns to see the source of the noise. And of course<\/i>, it had to be Ryan. He does not look happy.

\u201cBrendon!\u201d he fumes. \u201cGet in the car.\u201d

Brendon remains seated on the ground.

\u201cN-no,\u201d he mumbles defiantly.

Ryan\u2019s face is beginning to glow red, and he presses through clenched teeth, \u201cGet in the car. Now.\u201d

Brendon stands and plants his feet firmly on the ground. Jon stands up beside him and their hands brush slightly before Brendon grabs Jon\u2019s for support. He squeezes it tightly to remind the boy that he\u2019s still there. That he\u2019ll always be there.

\u201cI said no, Ryan,\u201d Brendon repeats. \u201cYou have no authority over me.\u201d

Ryan\u2019s eyes narrow and he stomps over to where they\u2019re standing. He grips Brendon\u2019s arm tightly and pulls him out of Jon\u2019s grasp. Brendon whines at the lack of contact and reaches out for Jon again. But Ryan is too quick pulling him away.

\u201cYou know what happens when you don\u2019t listen to me,\u201d Ryan whispers meanly. \u201cNow get in the car.\u201d

He doesn\u2019t wait for another protest. Instead, he swings open the door to the car and shoves Brendon inside roughly. He then slams the door in Brendon\u2019s face and walks over to the other side.

As Ryan opens the door to the driver\u2019s side of the car, Jon shouts, \u201cRyan!\u201d

Ryan glances up at Jon, his eyes still narrow and vicious. \u201cWhat?\u201d he demands.

\u201cI know. I know everything,\u201d Jon says.

Ryan\u2019s eye widen and his jaw drops slightly. Without another word, he climbs into the driver\u2019s seat quickly and drives off. As he speeds away, Brendon stares at Jon through the window, tears streaming down his cheeks. Before he gets out of eyesight, he mouths something that looks like \u2018I love you, too.\u2019

But Jon can\u2019t be sure of anything currently.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:3591","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/3591.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=3591"}}],"title":"Obsequious [5\/8]","published":"2008-06-18T00:52:25Z","updated":"2008-06-18T00:52:25Z","content":"Title<\/span> Obsequious
Author<\/span> <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/b> R for physical abuse [ =( ]
Pairing<\/b> Brendon\/Ryan, William\/Travis, one-sided Jon\/Brendon
Summary<\/b> \"No, it's abuse Brendon. And I won't let it happen again.\"<\/i>
Disclaimer<\/b> Fake. Cut belongs to Powerspace; \"Right On, Right Now.\"
A\/N<\/b> Sorry about the sucky ending and the delay. =[ Nothing more to say about this one except, \"SAD DAY! D:\" In personal news, I graduate to 9th grade tomorrow. =]


As Ryan\u2019s bruises begin to fade, Brendon\u2019s are becoming more evident. William, Travis, Jon - even Pete are noticing. But they\u2019re too afraid to say anything on the subject. So they keep their mouths tightly shut.

Even when Ryan stops apologizing for his violent actions, Brendon still thinks nothing of it. He pegs it as stress. Then he begins to think that Dr. Stumph and Victoria made a mistake about Ryan\u2019s medication. Perhaps they had overlooked \u201cviolent tendencies\u201d as a side-effect or something.

Some professionals, Brendon scoffs inwardly.

His cell phone rings in his back pocket; the words to Nirvana\u2019s \u201cLove Buzz\u201d blaring from its tiny speakers. He picks it up and greets, \u201cHey, Ryan.\u201d

\u201cHey, babe,\u201d Ryan purrs on the other end. \u201cWhere are you right now?\u201d

\u201cHome, but-\u201d

\u201cYou wanna come over today?\u201d Ryan asks.

\u201cSure,\u201d Brendon smiles. \u201cBut I was actually about to head out when you called me. So can you give me a bit?\u201d

\u201cAlright, but don\u2019t be too long.\u201d

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t keep you waiting for the world.\u201d

Brendon flips his phone shut and stuffs it into his back pocket. As he grabs his keys, he calls, \u201cMom, I\u2019m going out for a bit.\u201d

He can hear his mom\u2019s muffled voice sweetly replying, \u201cOkay, sweetie. Call if you\u2019re staying out late.\u201d

Brendon offers a small \u201cyeah\u201d in agreement and then steps out into the driveway. He climbs into his car (\u201ca Corvette, wow, Brendon\u201d) and pulls out slowly. The drive to the hospital is shorter than he\u2019d like it to be. As soon as he pulls into the crowded parking lot, he realizes that he probably should have made some sort of appointment. But it\u2019s a bit too late for that as he walks through the door and steps up to the pearly white front desk.

He finds that Victoria isn\u2019t there this time, filing papers like Brendon\u2019s seen before. Today, it\u2019s a young boy who can\u2019t be much older than Brendon by the look of it. His soft-looking hair is hanging in his eyes, but he obviously can\u2019t be bothered to care much as he\u2019s focused intently on some complicated paperwork. Paperwork that isn\u2019t going to help Brendon\u2019s situation. So the high school student rings the tiny bell on the counter. It turns out to be louder than he thought it would be.

The boy behind the desk jumps and his pen flies out of his hand, onto the ground. He huffs and glares up at Brendon through his shaggy bangs. \u201cCan I help you?\u201d he grumbles.

\u201cI\u2019m looking for Victoria. Is she around?\u201d Brendon asks.

\u201cShe\u2019s sick.\u201d Oh, the irony. \u201cIs there anything I can do to help you?\u201d

Brendon glances at the boy\u2019s small, plastic nameplate. Spencer.

\u201cNo thanks, uh, Spencer. Unless you know if Dr. Stumph is available.\u201d

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, he\u2019s with a patient right now.\u201d Spencer retrieves his pen off the floor and pulls a notepad in front of him. \u201cI can deliver a message for you, if it\u2019s urgent.\u201d

\u201cTell him I have a few question about Ryan Ross-\u201d

\u201cOh, I know about him.\u201d

He gets out of his chair and shuffles through some file folders behind the desk. After a moment, he returns with a file labeled Ross, George R. He opens the folder and reads, \u201cBroken left leg, two fractured ribs?\u201d

\u201cThat\u2019s the one,\u201d Brendon confirms.

\u201cWell, what do you need to know?\u201d Spencer presses, annoyed.

\u201cIt\u2019s about his pain meds,\u201d Brendon begins. \u201cDo you know if it causes any\u2026 violent tendencies? As a side effect or\u2026\u201d

Spencer flips through the pages and pulls one out. He examines it carefully, humming quietly to himself as he reads.

\u201cNo,\u201d he says finally. \u201cNausea, drowsiness. Nothing about violence.\u201d

Brendon reaches for the paper and as he does so, his sleeve pulls up to reveal two dark purple bruises. Spencer bites his lip when he realizes why Brendon is curious about and violent reactions. But he keeps his mouth shut. It\u2019s not his situation to speak on.

\u201cAre you sure?\u201d Brendon asks, pulling Spencer out of his trance.

\u201cI\u2019m sure. But if you think it best, you can request that he stop taking the meds. He only has one more week - not even - until the cast comes off.\u201d

Brendon tugs his sleeve back down, most likely out of nervous habit. \u201cAlright,: he sighs. \u201cI\u2019ll talk to Ryan about it.\u201d

As he makes his way out the door, Spencer calls after him, \u201cGood luck with Mr. Ross!\u201d

Brendon stops in the doorway and sends an upset, almost angry glance back at Spencer.

\u201cHis name is Ryan,\u201d he corrects sternly. \u201cMr. Ross is his father.\u201d

***<\/center>

The first thing Brendon notices as he pulls into Ryan\u2019s driveway is that his crutches are poking out of the large garbage bin. He steps out of the car and knocks on the door three times, sending an anxious glance back at the disposed crutches every few seconds.

Ryan swings the door open, a frown set upon his lips. He has a weird, black boot over the cast on his leg. Brendon guesses that it enabled him to walk without the crutches.

\u201cWhere have you been?\u201d Ryan demands.

\u201cCalm down, Ry, I was just-\u201d

\u201cWhere have you been?!\u201d

Brendon flinches when Ryan shouts. His boyfriend shouting is never be a good thing, and it always ends badly. Very badly. He knows he\u2019s stupid if he admits to visiting the hospital on Ryan\u2019s behalf, so he carefully whispers, \u201cI was out shopping with my mom.\u201d

Ryan\u2019s eyes narrow. He\u2019s taking in the information cautiously. Eventually, he decides, \u201cYou\u2019re lying to me.\u201d

\u201cWhat? No, I-\u201d

He knows it\u2019s coming. He can feel it and see it rushing toward him. Still, he doesn\u2019t flinch. Just stands there as Ryan fist comes across his face harshly.

\u201cI\u2019m sick of your shit,\u201d he hears Ryan fume.

Brendon whines as he\u2019s shoved against a wall roughly. Ryan\u2019s lips are close to his ear, moistening the skin with his warm breath.

\u201cLove you,\u201d he whispers before punching Brendon, hard in the stomach. Brendon splutters and falls to the floor when Ryan releases him. The older boy lands a final kick to Brendon\u2019s gut before muttering a hushed \u201cworthless\u201d and stomping out the door. The last thing Brendon hears before blacking out is the loud revving of an engine. The final thing he thinks is that Ryan should not be driving in his condition. He could get hurt.<\/i>

***<\/center>

It\u2019s about eight P.M. when Jon is much too bored. He texts Brendon once. Twice. No answer. So he decides he\u2019ll just drive over to see him. It\u2019s not a long drive, and Brendon\u2019s parents love him, so he\u2019s sure he won\u2019t be a bother to anyone.

He grabs his keys and twirl them around his finger on his way out to his old, beat-up truck. The engine takes two tries before it starts, but when it does, it runs smoothly and the drive to Brendon\u2019s place is quick and easy. He pulls into the driveway of the (much larger, nicer) house without noticing the absence of Brendon\u2019s Corvette.

Before he even gets a chance to knock on the front door, it\u2019s swinging open and Brendon\u2019s mother is smiling at him brightly.

\u201cHello, Jon!\u201d she greets warmly. \u201cIt\u2019s nice to see you. How have you been?\u201d

\u201cIt\u2019s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Urie. And I\u2019ve been good,\u201d Jon replies.

\u201cWhat can I do for you, dear?\u201d

\u201cI wanted to hang with Brendon for a bit. Is he here?\u201d Jon asks, peering over Grace\u2019s shoulder and around the corner.

\u201cNo, he took off a couple hours ago,\u201d she sighs. \u201cHe said he\u2019d call if he planned on staying out. Honestly, I\u2019m getting worried.\u201d

Jon\u2019s brow furrows as he concentrates on where Brendon would be at this hour. He doesn\u2019t have much of a social life, except for Travis, William, himself and-

Ryan. Jon grinned at Brendon\u2019s mother and said, \u201cThanks, Mrs. Urie. I think I know where to find him.\u201d

\u201cOh, Jon Walker, please bring my baby home safe!\u201d Grace pleaded jokingly.

\u201cNot a worry, ma\u2019am. I\u2019ll have him back in one piece.\u201d Jon made a gesture as if he was tipping his hat and then ran back to his car. He waved to Mrs. Urie as he drove away and she smiled back enthusiastically.

***<\/center>

When Jon pulls into Ryan\u2019s driveway, he immediately notices that Ryan\u2019s car is not taking up it\u2019s usual space. In fact, it\u2019s not even there. Brendon\u2019s fancy, rich boy car is parked beside Jon\u2019s old truck, but Ryan\u2019s car is nowhere to be seen. Jon guesses they\u2019d gone out on a date or something. But he finds it odd that they\u2019d chosen not to take the nicer car.

He shrugs it off and hops out of his truck, smoothing down his jeans once he\u2019s out. The front door is open when Jon gets up to it, and he freezes out of fear. He instantly thinks the worst. Someone snuck in and murdered the two of them and stole Ryan\u2019s car. Then he hears a quiet groan and he flinches away from the entrance to the house.

The groan comes again, and it sounds familiar somehow. It\u2019s when Jon realizes that it\u2019s Brendon that he dashes inside without a second thought.

Once inside, he calls, \u201cRyan? Brendon? You here?\u201d

There\u2019s silence for a moment. Then more groaning, but nothing remotely coherent. Jon searches the house for the source of the pained noise and loses faith when he comes back into the main room. But then he sees a mess of brown hair littering the ground by the coffee table in the center of the room. He cautiously steps closer to it.

\u201cBrendon?\u201d he mumbles. \u201cThat you?\u201d

The groaning comes again and Jon quickly rounds the corner of the large table. He gasps at what he sees. Brendon is lying on the ground, motionless for the most part. He\u2019s clutching his stomach as if he\u2019s been sick and there\u2019s a dark bruise on his upper cheek. Jon immediately knows what\u2019s happened, despite Brendon\u2019s constant reminders of \u201cI\u2019m okay\u201d and \u201cI just tripped.\u201d

\u201cOh, Brendon,\u201d he sighs as he smoothes the boy\u2019s hair. \u201cWhat have you gotten yourself into?\u201d

Just as he says that, Brendon grunts and shifts in front of Jon. He tries to lift himself, but he can\u2019t and he falls back, his head landing in Jon\u2019s lap. \u201cWhat the fuck?\u201d he mutters.

\u201cBrendon.\u201d

Brendon looks up at Jon and asks, \u201cWhere\u2019s Ryan?\u201d

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Jon replied. \u201cWhy?\u201d

\u201cI have to apologize.\u201d

Jon is outraged. Outraged at both of the stupid boys and outraged at everything that\u2019s happened to Brendon so far and outraged at himself for not knowing. He wants to run around and throw things and shout, but he doesn\u2019t. Because Brendon doesn\u2019t need that. Not right now.

\u201cIf either of you have a thing to apologize for, it\u2019s him for hurting you.\u201d

\u201cBut he\u2019s just-\u201d

\u201cNo. It\u2019s abuse, Brendon. And I won\u2019t let it happen again,\u201d Jon says sternly.

Brendon is quiet for a long time. Jon knows that he\u2019s thinking about what he\u2019s been told. And that he doesn\u2019t know how to handle it, because he\u2019d interpreted everything so much differently<\/i>. Then there\u2019s some quiet sniffling and Jon can feel Brendon shaking against him.

\u201cYou\u2019re right, Jon,\u201d Brendon whispers. \u201cYou are so right, and I didn\u2019t even know it.\u201d

Jon just sighs and pulls Brendon up and into a hug. Brendon winces at the squeeze, but he keeps quiet about his pain because Jon\u2019s hugs are always perfect and he doesn\u2019t want to lose this right now.

\u201cCome on, B,\u201d Jon says. \u201cWe should go.\u201d

After getting off the ground, he pulls Brendon up with him and allows the younger boy to lean against him for support.

\u201cKeys,\u201d Jon demands.

\u201cPocket.\u201d

Jon dips his hand into Brendon\u2019s back pocket and pulls out his car keys.

\u201cHospital?\u201d

\u201cNo.\u201d

\u201cPark.\u201d

Brendon nods.

They leave the door open on their way out.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:3431","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/3431.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=3431"}}],"title":"11:11","published":"2008-06-15T03:34:06Z","updated":"2008-06-15T03:35:46Z","content":"Title<\/b>: 11:11
Author<\/b>: <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/b>: PG
POV<\/b>: 2nd. You = Spencer
Pairing<\/b>: Jon\/Spencer
Summary<\/b>: You missed it again. But you're getting closer.<\/i>
Disclaimer<\/b>: Owning Spencer Smith would be- well, I\u2019m not going to get into that. Let\u2019s keep it PG, folks.
A.N<\/b>: Happy wishing.


Everything is silent. Except for the low hum of your cell phone vibrating against the wooden coffee table. You glare at it, willing the caller to leave you alone and get out of your head. It doesn\u2019t work. So you take the battery out of the phone and toss it in the nearby garbage bin. You can dig it out when you need it. You won\u2019t be needing it for a while.

You walk to your bedroom, knowing that the next time you turn your phone on, it will be flooded with voicemails from the same man. The screen will tell you that you missed however many calls from \u201cLove.\u201d You won\u2019t listen to the voicemails. You won\u2019t return the calls. You\u2019ll let them keep coming until \u201cLove\u201d makes a bolder move.

You\u2019ll ignore that, too.

As you crawl into bed and turn out the light, you notice that the LCD screen on your alarm clock reads 11:13.

You missed it.

***
<\/div>
The next week, you see \u201cLove\u201d at the supermarket. You don\u2019t want to say hello, but he does. He makes his way over to you with his red shopping basket bouncing against his leg as he runs to catch you. He mumbles a quiet \u201chey,\u201d and you just stand there quietly. You don\u2019t say a thing, and you\u2019re even a bit shocked at the fact that he\u2019s speaking to you after how long you\u2019ve ignored his every word. And you really should do the right thing and greet him back.

But you don\u2019t. You turn and you walk out. You don\u2019t even buy anything.

When you\u2019re at home a few hours later, the phone rings. You answer without thinking and say greet whoever is on the other line.

The man on the other end lets out a long, relieved breath and replies, \u201cIt\u2019s been a while since I\u2019ve heard that from you.\u201d

You glance at the caller I.D. and slam the phone down onto the receiver when you register what it says.

Walker, Jon.

When you head to bed that night, the bright red numbers on the alarm clock show 11:12.

You missed it again. But you\u2019re getting closer.
<\/div>
***
<\/div>
The calls have stopped coming. You\u2019ve deleted all the voicemails on your cell phone and you no longer have to take the battery out to avoid contact with \u201cLove.\u201d The day is long and boring without the constant reminder of what you\u2019ve left behind. And you value the complete silence, because for once, you\u2019re not crying. And for once, you\u2019re not wishing you\u2019d done something different and saved everything.

For once, everything is okay. That does not mean that things are better.

You\u2019re ready to go to sleep. And when you do, you stare shocked at the alarm clock on your bedside table. It read 11:11. You\u2019re not spiritual. But you make your wish anyway, and you hope that someone, somewhere is listening. Whether it be an angel in Heaven or an angel somewhere in Illinois.

You sleep relatively well that night. And you don\u2019t wake up to the anticipated beeping of your alarm clock. You open your eyes to none other than Jon Walker. \u201cLove.\u201d

You sit up in bed and rub your eyes, willing the illusion away. But it stays, and you can\u2019t believe he\u2019s here again. After all you\u2019ve done. You\u2019ve ignored the calls and avoided him for days. Months. And he\u2019s still waited for you. And now he\u2019s sitting in your bedroom, staring right back at you.

And he\u2019s probably crying as much as you are.

You don\u2019t know why you do it, but you move closer. Slowly at first. Cautiously approaching. You don\u2019t want it all to disappear before you can have it again. And when you\u2019re close enough, you take his face in your hands. Your fingers are trembling as his tears glide over them.

All you do is touch. You feel every piece of his existence because you still can\u2019t believe that he\u2019s here with you again and that he\u2019s not running away. Because you would have. He\u2019s the one who initiates it. He\u2019s the one who pulls you forward and forces his lips onto yours.

You kiss back because even though you\u2019ve ended this already, you don\u2019t want it to be over.

When he pulls back, his lips are mere centimeters from yours. His whispers quietly, \u201cI\u2019ve missed you, Love.\u201d

And you\u2019ve missed him too, so you kiss him again.

Things are better. Things are finally perfect again.<\/div><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:3143","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/3143.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=3143"}}],"title":"Obsequious [4\/?]","published":"2008-05-20T03:26:02Z","updated":"2008-05-20T03:31:42Z","content":"Title<\/span>: Obsequious
Author<\/span>: <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/span>: R for physical abuse
Pairing<\/span>: Ryan\/Brendon, William\/Travis, one-sided Jon\/Brendon
Summary<\/span>: \u201cOh, I uh-\u201d Brendon stutters awkwardly, \u201cI fell.\u201d<\/span>
Disclaimer<\/span>: Fake like Audrey Kitching\u2019s hair. Cut belongs to Young and Divine, \"Weakdays.\"
A\/N<\/span>: Thanks for making me feel so loved, everyone. =] Special thanks to <\/a>silentpoetry1<\/b><\/a><\/span>  for putting up with my pointless rambling about what the fuck I should do with the next chapter. Seriously, I love you for it.





Brendon chooses to stay the night with Ryan. He doesn\u2019t want to take any chances with him, especially when he\u2019s in this kind of situation. He could end up doing something drastic and ridiculous. Earlier, he\u2019d called 911 and reported the \u201csuicide\u201d and whoever it was that takes care of these things had arrived and whisked the body off. Few questions were asked. Ryan just wanted to get it over with.

Brendon had suggested that they stay at his place to avoid any emotional issues, but Ryan wasn\u2019t having it. He eventually caved and texted his mom, telling her not to worry and that he\u2019d be home after school on Monday.

Despite his many protests, Ryan ends up being dragged along on Monday morning.

\u201cYou\u2019re not missing school just because you\u2019ve got a cast on,\u201d Brendon says.

\u201cYou sound like my dad,\u201d Ryan sighs.

They fall silent after that.

When they pull up at the school, Will, Travie and Jon are waiting for them at the entrance. They each look like they\u2019ve lost their fair share of sleep over worry, and Jon has his super secret Starbucks recipe in a cup warm between his palms. The second Ryan hobbles out of the car, Will is at his side, demanding to know exactly what happened.

\u201cI fell,\u201d Ryan says nonchalantly, \u201cno big deal.\u201d

\u201cDid you fall off the Empire State Building?!\u201d Will spazzes. \u201cWhat the hell?\u201d

\u201cCalm down.\u201d Brendon takes his place beside Ryan and pecks him on the cheek quickly. \u201cHe\u2019s fine, Will.\u201d

But he\u2019s not, really.

***
<\/div>
At lunch, they all try to pretend that Ryan isn\u2019t sitting silently, hunched in on himself. They each attempt conversation with him at least once. It doesn\u2019t work. Not even for Brendon.

They\u2019re all surprised when they see Pete jogging over. He\u2019s finally broken his leash and come to hang out with them. The second he shows up next to the table, Will and Travie forget Ryan in favor of catching up with their old friend and discussing why the fuck he hasn\u2019t \u2018dumped that bitch like she\u2019s hot yet. Oh, wait.\u2019 Pete tries to ignore their convincing arguments.

He instead sits beside solemn-faced Ryan and drapes his arm over his shoulder. Ryan assumes this is normal Pete Wentz behavior. He doesn\u2019t move away.

\u201cSo, Ryan Ross!\u201d Pete says loudly, smiling, \u201cwhat happened to-\u201d

Will, Travie, Jon and Brendon all shake their heads harshly.

\u201cWhat?\u201d Pete asks in confusion.

Ryan sighs and abandons his meal, leaving the table as quickly as he can on his crutches. Brendon throws Pete a vicious glare and kicks his leg under the table.

\u201cJerk,\u201d he mutters as he follows Ryan out of the cafeteria.

\u201cWhat did I do?\u201d Pete whines. William sighs and shakes his head disappointedly.

***
<\/div>
Brendon thinks he\u2019s searched the whole school for Ryan before he comes to a seemingly abandoned restroom toward the back of the large building. He doesn\u2019t think Ryan would be in there; he thinks he probably just left school completely. But there\u2019s a familiar pair of ratty chucks visible from beneath the stall door. So Brendon steps up to the stall and knocks softly.

\u201cGo away,\u201d Ryan growls from behind the door.

\u201cRyan, it\u2019s me,\u201d Brendon says weakly. He can see Ryan\u2019s converse-clad shuffling, and then there\u2019s a click and the door swings open, revealing a glassy-eyed, miserable looking Ryan Ross. His hair is tousled and messy and his eyes look absolutely cried out, and Brendon still thinks he\u2019s the most beautiful thing in the world.

\u201cWhat?\u201d Ryan asks tonelessly.

Brendon steps through the door and closes it behind him. The already compact area seems even smaller when Brendon eliminates most of the rest of the open space.

\u201cI thought you could use some company,\u201d he smiles.

\u201cI don\u2019t fucking need you!\u201d Ryan snaps, shoving Brendon against the door. \u201cLeave me alone, jerk!\u201d

\u201cBy the sound of your voice, I\u2019d say you do,\u201d Brendon retorts.

\u201cWell, you\u2019re wrong!\u201d

\u201cAll I want to do is help you, Ryan!\u201d Brendon shouts, gripping Ryan\u2019s shoulders tightly. \u201cWhy the fuck won\u2019t you let me? Christ, Ry, I love-\u201d

He\u2019s silenced by a sickening crack and a sharp pain shooting through his nose. And holy fuck<\/i>, he can\u2019t believe Ryan just hit<\/i> him. He brings his fingers up and brushes them against the blood dripping over his lips. He chokes on his breath when he sees the quantity of it.

\u201cRyan,\u201d he whispers shakily. \u201cRyan, did you just-\u201d

\u201cOh my God,\u201d Ryan gasps. \u201cBrendon, I am so sorry.\u201d

\u201cWhy did you-\u201d

\u201cI don\u2019t know. God Bren, I\u2019m sorry.\u201d

Ryan lifts his hand and touches the blood, pulling back the second he makes contact. He grabs a hefty amount of toilet paper from the dispenser beside the toilet. Brendon tries to take it. Ryan brushes his hand away.

\u201cNo,\u201d Ryan says simply.

He tentatively wipes at the mess beneath Brendon\u2019s nose. Brendon winces and pulls back as contact is made, breathing in sharply, but Ryan brings his free hand around and holds his head still. When he\u2019s done, he pulls out clean tissues and instructs Brendon to hold them to his nose. He disposes of the dirty toilet paper and sighs.

\u201cLook, I know you\u2019re probably scared shitless because I\u2019m-\u201d

\u201cNo, Ryan,\u201d Brendon says sternly. \u201cDon\u2019t say it. Don\u2019t even think about saying it.\u201d

He takes Ryan\u2019s hands and lifts it to his lips, kissing each knuckle individually.

\u201cBut I-\u201d Ryan chokes on his next words. \u201cI\u2019m just like him. I\u2019m turning into my dad.\u201d

\u201cNo.\u201d

Suddenly, Brendon lips are on Ryan\u2019s, the bloody tissue forgotten and cast aside. He pulls away and says quietly, \u201cI love you, Ryan Ross. But I could never love your father. You\u2019re nothing like him, and I don\u2019t want to hear you say it again.\u201d

Ryan nods and leans forward for another kiss.

***
<\/div>
After a brief pep talk, Ryan and Brendon make their way out of the restroom and into the empty hallway. Will, Travis and Jon (who know everything, of course) are waiting for them. Pete is nowhere to be seen, and Brendon hopes that he\u2019s off praying they don\u2019t meet again any time soon. Ryan avoids eye contact with all as they take in Brendon\u2019s appearance.

\u201cBrendon,\u201d William gasps, \u201cwhat the hell happened to your nose?\u201d

\u201cIt\u2019s bruised and shit,\u201d Travis adds.

\u201cOh, I uh-\u201d Brendon stutters awkwardly, \u201cI fell.\u201d

Jon glares suspiciously at Ryan.

\u201cWell, isn\u2019t that what everyone says?\u201d he sighs.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:2944","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/2944.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=2944"}}],"title":"trylohbyte @ 2008-05-14T22:48:00","published":"2008-05-15T05:53:05Z","updated":"2008-05-15T05:53:05Z","content":"Title<\/b>: Obsequious [3\/?]
Author<\/b>: <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/b>: PG-13
Pairing<\/b>: Ryden, Treckett, one-sided Jondon if you squint.
POV<\/b>: Third
Summary<\/b>: \u201cYou love me?\u201d
\u201cSo much, Ryan.\u201d
\u201cI love you, too.\u201d
\u201cWell what a perfect setting for this exchange.\u201d<\/i>
Disclaimer<\/b>: Not real. Never happened. Cut belongs to Panic At The Disco, \u201cTime To Dance.\u201d
Author Notes<\/b>: AWWW, emotional abuse, so cute, right? Maybe now you can understand why I love those comments so much. Thanks to <\/a>silentpoetry1<\/b><\/a><\/span>  for being awesome.



\u201cDo you guys know where Ryan is?\u201d Brendon asks at lunch.

They\u2019re all crowded around the same metal cafeteria table they sit at every day. Will - of course - is safe in Travie\u2019s arms, and Jon is eating whatever crap the old ladies served up today.

\u201cHaven\u2019t seen him all day,\u201d Travis says unhelpfully.

\u201cHe\u2019s probably just sick or something,\u201d Jon guesses, \u201cit\u2019s not like no one here misses a day or two.\u201d

\u201cHe seemed just fine yesterday,\u201d Brendon sighs.

\u201cMaybe he died.\u201d

\u201cWill!\u201d Brendon shouts.

\u201cWhat?\u201d Will says defensively, \u201cit could happen!\u201d

Brendon groans and sits down beside Jon. He doesn\u2019t notice the older boy\u2019s slight smile as their legs brush.

\u201cI\u2019m worried, guys,\u201d he whines.

\u201cB, he\u2019s probably caught a cold or something,\u201d Travis tries, \u201chappens all the time.\u201d

\u201cMaybe.\u201d But Brendon\u2019s still doubtful.

***
<\/div>
His cell phone probably rings about three times before Brendon wakes up enough to answer it. The clock reads 2:26 A.M., and he immediately knows who it is. But really? Two A.M?

\u201cRy?\u201d he groans.

\u201cBrendon\u2026\u201d  Ryan sobs on the other end.

Brendon\u2019s eyes widen and he snaps up into a sitting position on his bed.

\u201cRyan, what\u2019s wrong?!\u201d he asks frantically, \u201cwhy are you crying?\u201d

\u201cBrendon, I-\u201d he pauses and Brendon can hear him choking on his own sobs, \u201cI\u2019m so hurt right now. My leg, I think it\u2019s-\u201d

\u201cIs it broken? Where are you; Are you home?\u201d

The sobbing on the other end becomes louder and it hurts Brendon to hear it.

\u201cYes. God, please, Bren, get me out of here!\u201d Ryan cries. \u201cI don\u2019t want to be here anymore!\u201d

\u201cOkay, Ry, just stay where you are,\u201d he says before realizing Ryan probably couldn\u2019t move if he wanted to. \u201cI mean, uh- I\u2019ll be there in a few.\u201d

\u201cWindow\u2026\u201d Ryan rasps.

\u201cI know.\u201d

***
<\/div>
Brendon pulls into Ryan\u2019s driveway, confused at the darkness of the house. All the lights are off inside. He frowns, because Ryan\u2019s dad would be home by now, but it\u2019s not late enough for the windows to be dark.

He steps up to one of the windows and pulls it out of the frame easily, setting the glass aside. He crawls through the open rectangle in the wall and clicks on the lamp when he\u2019s inside. Ryan\u2019s sitting in the corner, one leg twisted awkwardly in front of him and the other pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around it. Brendon wants to cry at the sight of it.

\u201cBren?\u201d he murmurs.

\u201cOh, God, Ry,\u201d Brendon breathes, \u201cwhat the\u2026 what the hell happened?\u201d

\u201cMy dad, he- well, he hit me and it wasn\u2019t the first time and I couldn\u2019t take it any more so-\u201d Ryan pauses to take a deep, shaky breath, \u201cso I went and found his handgun and- and- and oh my God, Brendon, I shot my dad!\u201d

His whole body shakes as the sobs take over him. He grimaces as his broken leg slides against the carpeted floor.

\u201cY-you shot your\u2026\u201d Brendon stutters disbelievingly, \u201cI didn\u2019t think- wow.\u201d

\u201cIt\u2019s okay if you think I\u2019m a freak or that I\u2019m scary or-\u201d

\u201cGod, no, Ryan,\u201d Brendon gasps, \u201cI could never- I love you. And I could never, ever think things like that about you.\u201d

\u201cYou love me?\u201d

\u201cSo much, Ryan.\u201d

\u201cI love you, too.\u201d

\u201cWell what a perfect setting for this exchange.\u201d

Ryan laughs a little, but winces and sucks in air through his teeth when his ribs shake. Brendon sighs.

\u201cCome on, Ry,\u201d he says, \u201cwe should probably get you fixed up.\u201d

Brendon moves to help Ryan get out to the car, but stops when he thinks of Ryan\u2019s dad.

\u201cWhat are we going to do about\u2026 Well, you know-\u201d

\u201cI framed it so it looks like he shot himself.\u201d

\u201cAh\u2026\u201d

***
<\/div>
After the confusion of trying to figure out how to get Ryan out of the house and into Brendon\u2019s car, and after the seemingly endless drive to the hospital, they finally drive up to the large, white building. Ryan does his best to ignore the increasing pain in his leg as Brendon helps him limp through the doors of the hospital. People in the waiting room glare at the two because considering Ryan\u2019s appearance, they know that they\u2019re definitely not getting any attention for a while.

A brunette nurse walks up to them quickly and greets them, \u201cHi, I\u2019m Victoria. Broken leg? We can fix that.\u201d

She shuffles around behind the front desk and returns with a clipboard of paperwork. She hands it to Brendon, along with a pen and a sympathetic glance.

\u201cMust have been hard getting him over here like this,\u201d she says, \u201canyway, we have one free doctor available for you, Mister\u2026\u201d

\u201cCall me Ryan,\u201d Ryan says.

\u201cAlright!\u201d she smiles, \u201cAnd-\u201d

\u201cBrendon.\u201d

\u201cMhm, Brendon, you\u2019ll have to fill out those papers while Dr. Stumph takes some X-rays, alright?\u201d

Brendon nods and begins to quickly work his way through the sheets. Victoria brings a wheelchair around and takes her time seating Ryan in a semi-comfortable position. She wheels him through white, double doors with a final reassurance of, \u201cit won\u2019t be long, I promise.\u201d

Brendon fills out the paperwork while waiting for the kind nurse to return with information on Ryan\u2019s condition. It\u2019s not even ten minutes later when she emerges, a file in hand. She exchanges this file for the clipboard of forms.

\u201cOpen it, I\u2019ll explain what\u2019s going on,\u201d she says. Brendon opens the folder hesitantly and bites his lip at what he sees.

\u201cHis left leg is broken, but I\u2019m sure the two of you figured that out on your own,\u201d she says, \u201cbut what you might not have known is that two of his ribs are fractured. Now, considering the hour, Dr. Stump recommended that we keep him for the night to let him rest.\u201d

\u201cAlright,\u201d Brendon agrees, nodding. \u201cWhen can I pick him up tomorrow?\u201d

\u201cWell, we\u2019ll need time to get him some crutches and he\u2019s going to need some time to get used to moving around with them,\u201d she pauses and taps her lip, \u201cso you\u2019d be safe coming back around ten-thirty in the morning.\u201d

Brendon\u2019s not looking forward to spending the next twelve hours away from Ryan when he\u2019s hurt like this, but the doctor knows best.

\u201cOkay, I\u2019ll be here then, I guess.\u201d

Victoria flashes a warm smile and says, \u201che\u2019ll be ready when you get here.\u201d

\u201cThank you.\u201d

***
<\/div>
Brendon wakes up to the harsh sunlight gleaming through his closed window. He glares at the clock upon opening his eyes and jumps when he realizes it\u2019s 10:15. He\u2019s going to be late!

He doesn\u2019t bother to hop in the shower, just throws on some clothes, shoves a pop-tart in his mouth and rushes out the door after a brief \u201csee ya\u201d to his parents. They exchange concerned glances as the sound of the engine pierces the walls of the large house.

He drives as fast as he can, probably exceeding the speed limit once or twice during the drive. When he pulls into the parking lot of the hospital, his driving is so frantic that he almost hits an exiting car. He slams the door to the car shut and runs through the doors of the big building. Confused and irritated glances are thrown his way as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, slumping down in a hard, plastic chair.

Victoria steps out from behind the desk and calls, \u201cBrendon Urie?\u201d

Brendon jumps up and runs over to her, stopping on a dime directly in front of her.

\u201cI\u2019m Brendon. Where\u2019s Ryan?\u201d he presses.

Victoria\u2019s laugh calms him down.

\u201cRelax, Mr. Urie, he should be-\u201d

A loud cry of frustration cuts her off and a the double doors that lead to the hallway are kicked open. Out steps an aggravated Ryan, frowning and trying to make his way to Brendon with his crutches and his wrapped up torso.

\u201cI\u2019m never coming here. Ever. Again,\u201d he vows.

\u201cThen you\u2019ll have to stay safe, Ryan,\u201d Victoria says, \u201cyou can\u2019t be reckless and expect the best.\u201d

Ryan sighs and motions to Brendon.

\u201cCome on,\u201d he growls, \u201clet\u2019s leave.\u201d

With a final wave to Victoria, Brendon follows Ryan through the glass doors to the parking lot.

\u201cHow\u2019re you feeling?\u201d he says after a while.

\u201cRestrained and hurt,\u201d Ryan replies. He leans against one crutch and awkwardly lifts the hem of his shirt. \u201cThis thing is killing me. I can hardly move.\u201d

He drops the shirt and wiggles on the crutches.

\u201cAnd these pieces of crap, I\u2019m never going to get used to these.\u201d

\u201cWell, you wont need them for too long.\u201d

\u201cSix weeks,\u201d Ryan hisses, \u201csix weeks of this cast and these crutches and this stupid thing around my chest. This will definitely be an un-fun experience. I\u2019m never breaking another bone again.\u201d

\u201cGoing against the odds, are we?\u201d Brendon chuckles, hopping in front Ryan. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t guarantee a time period\u2019s un-awesomness until it\u2019s already happened. I\u2019m pretty sure I could make your month and a half a bit more enjoyable.\u201d

\u201cHow so, Urie?\u201d

Brendon smirks and takes a step toward Ryan. He brings his hands up and holds Ryan\u2019s face between them and Ryan smiles because he knows what\u2019s coming. Brendon kisses him gently and grins widely as he pulls back.

\u201cThat\u2019s how,\u201d he says.

\u201cWorks for me,\u201d Ryan sighs.

***
<\/div>
Brendon didn\u2019t think mood swings were a side effect of the pain medication Ryan had been taking. Victoria had never mentioned it, and neither had Dr. Stumph. He even called to ask them if perhaps they\u2019d left it out; they both said it wasn\u2019t a result of the pills. But Ryan had definitely been showing some major bipolarity in recent days. It\u2019s starting to freak Brendon out.

One particular bout of moodiness involved Ryan blaming Brendon for every misfortune in his life so far.

\u201cIt\u2019s your fault my dad hit me! It\u2019s your fault my leg is broken!\u201d he shouts. \u201cIt\u2019s your fault my mom left me, and it\u2019s your fault I have to fucking live in New York. And you made me kill my dad!\u201d

\u201cNobody made you do it, Ry!\u201d Brendon yells back, \u201cit was your own idea. Don\u2019t you blame it on me!\u201d

\u201cI could be back home in Vegas if it weren\u2019t for you and- and- just you!\u201d Ryan spits. Suddenly, he bursts into tears and falls to the floor sobbing. \u201cWhy can\u2019t you just understand how I\u2019m feeling right now, huh? How come no one can see it?\u201d

\u201cRyan,\u201d Brendon sighs as he helps the crying boy to his feet. \u201cI understand. That\u2019s all I do, and I\u2019m sick of understanding. We all need to be understood. You\u2019re not alone, you know.\u201d

\u201cThen why does it feels so much like it?\u201d

\u201cBecause you\u2019re not letting anyone in.\u201d<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:2473","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/2473.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=2473"}}],"title":"You Said, \"Hello Stranger\"","published":"2008-05-04T11:00:00Z","updated":"2008-05-04T11:00:00Z","content":"Title<\/span>: You Said, \u201cHello, Stranger\u201d
Author<\/span>: <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span>  
Rating<\/span>: PG-13
Pairing<\/span>: Joncer, Ryden
Summary<\/span>: \u201cI assumed he\u2019d squeegee Ryan, because they\u2019re madly in love or something.\u201d<\/span>
Disclaimer<\/span>: As real as Hannah Montana\u2019s hair. Cut & title from Closer.
A\/N<\/span>:  So this idea came to me at Disneyland. I don\u2019t know what brought it on, but my friend told me to stop squeegeeing her boyfriend, who wasn\u2019t even there. It was pretty funny, and it inspired me. And also, I didn\u2019t use all the songs. You can thank my own laziness and lack of creativity for that.
Loves to <\/a>silentpoetry1<\/b><\/a><\/span>  for the banner and for beta-ing this one.

[[If you're following Obsequious right now, Ch. 3 is finished, I'm just waiting for my beta to get back to me.]]

\"\"

It reeked of gas. Road trips are officially Ryan\u2019s least favorite thing in the world. The stench was giving him a headache. Hopefully the van\u2019s tank would fill quickly and they could get on their way. He wanted to see this cabin thingy that they\u2019d be staying at. It was supposed to be cold, Jon had said. That\u2019s okay; Ryan likes cold weather. It cleanses the body. The mind. The soul.

Spencer was filling the car up, while Brendon played with the squeegee poking out of the cleaning fluid. Ryan smiled and leaned against a cement pillar as he watched the boy pull it out and spin it on the palm of his hand. Of course, it fell, resulting in a precious pout from Brendon. But it was obviously much more interesting and fun to swipe Spencer\u2019s arm with the utensil repeatedly. Spencer didn\u2019t seem to mind; he\u2019s like a mother, he has to deal with these kinds of things. They just happen.

Jon walked out of the AM\/PM store, holding three cups of cheap coffee in hand and a red bull under his arm. A bag of snacks for the ride dangled from his only free finger, looking dangerously close to slipping off and crashing to the ground. Ryan grabbed the bag and Jon smiled and thanked him.

Turning to the other two, he opened his mouth to speak and then paused. He glanced over to Ryan and arched an eyebrow. Ryan shrugged and smiled knowingly. Jon turned back to the boys and shouted, \u201cBrendon, stop squeegeeing my boyfriend!\u201d

Brendon dropped his cleaning tool and glared at Jon. \u201cYou can\u2019t tell me what to do!\u201d he replied indignantly.

\u201cWhen it comes to Spencer, I can.\u201d

Spencer blushed and shut the cover to the gas tank. \u201cJon, really, it\u2019s Brendon. Did you assume he wouldn\u2019t squeegee me?\u201d

\u201cI assumed he\u2019d squeegee Ryan, because they\u2019re madly in love or something.\u201d

Ryan\u2019s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by Brendon\u2019s arms around his waist.

\u201cYep,\u201d Brendon chirped, \u201ctotally head over heels, right Ry?\u201d

Ryan bit his lip, looking at Brendon through the corner of his eye. \u201cY-yeah,\u201d he stuttered.

\u201cAw, you\u2019re stuttering,\u201d Spencer grinned.

\u201cShut up.\u201d

\u201cYou\u2019re cute,\u201d Brendon smiled, \u201cI\u2019m just gonna cuddle with you, \u2018cause you\u2019re cute, \u2018kay?\u201d He pressed his nose into Ryan\u2019s neck and breathed in deeply. \u201cAnd you smell good.\u201d

By then, Ryan was probably ten shades darker than what would have been considered healthy. \u201cBren\u2026\u201d he whined.

\u201cHmm?\u201d Brendon hummed against his skin.

\u201cGuys, quit making out and get in the car,\u201d Jon ordered, \u201cwe\u2019ve got ground to cover.\u201d

Ryan frowned, due to the interruption and hesitantly pulled away from Brendon, settling himself in the backseat of the van. Brendon followed after, swiping his energy drink from Jon.

\u201cThanks, Jonny-bear!\u201d he purred, kissing the bassist on the cheek, making Ryan extremely (ridiculously) jealous.

Only four more hours, Ryan reminded himself. Four more hours of tires over asphalt and painted concrete boredom. At least he gets to spend those four hours next to Brendon.

* * *<\/center>

When Jon finally parked the van in front of a quaint building Ryan and Brendon were asleep in the backseat of the van. Brendon arms were wrapped around Ryan\u2019s neck and he was nuzzled into the boy\u2019s shoulder. The fingers of Ryan\u2019s left hand were tangled in the younger boy\u2019s hair, his other hand placed on Brendon\u2019s hip.

Spencer tapped Ryan on the shoulder and gently shook him.

\u201cRyan,\u201d he murmured, \u201cwake up. We\u2019re here.\u201d

Ryan groaned and blinked his eyes open then squirmed under Brendon\u2019s weight.

\u201cBren\u2026\u201d he mumbled.

Brendon inhaled deeply and pressed his forehead deeper into Ryan\u2019s shoulder. Ryan sighed and shook his head.

\u201cCome on, Brendon,\u201d he persisted, \u201cwe need to get up now.\u201d

\u201cNo\u2026\u201d Brendon protested, \u201cwanna stay with you. Warm.\u201d

Ryan frowned and forced them both into an upright sitting position with Brendon on his lap, both legs hooked around his middle. He slowly eased them out of the cramped van, groaning as he stood himself straight.

\u201cYou\u2019re heavier than you look, Brendon,\u201d he said through gritted teeth. Brendon snorted indignantly and squirmed in Ryan\u2019s arms.

\u201cHold still!\u201d Ryan scolded.

Brendon stilled his movements, except for the gentle tickle of his fingers toying with the hair at the nape of Ryan\u2019s neck. This produced an involuntary shiver from the older boy.

Spencer smiled at the pair and took Jon\u2019s hand in his own.

\u201cWell, let\u2019s go have a look inside,\u201d he suggested quietly, holding out his free hand for the key. Jon placed it in Spencer\u2019s open palm, letting his fingers linger longer than needed.

They walked in silence to the entrance of the cabin with Ryan stopping periodically to adjust his grip on Brendon. Once they had entered through the front door of the small cabin, everyone sighed at the sudden comforting warmth.

\u201cCozy,\u201d commented Spencer with a smile, resting his head on Jon\u2019s shoulder.

Jon squeezed Spencer\u2019s hand and agreed, \u201cindeed.\u201d

\u201cHey, lovebirds,\u201d Ryan said. \u201cyou think you could point me in the direction of the bedroom?\u201d

\u201cKinky,\u201d Jon mumbled suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

\u201cOh, shut up!\u201d Ryan growled loudly, instantly regretting it as Brendon squirmed in his hold. Spencer rolled his eyes and pointed to a wooden door toward the back of the cozy building. Ryan allowed a strangled \u2018thanks\u2019 before retreating to the room.

Once inside, he picked the comfiest looking bed and kneeled to lay Brendon down on it.

\u201cGoodnight, Bren,\u201d he whispered before standing and turning on his heel to walk out. But something was keeping him back. He looked over his shoulder and saw Brendon\u2019s hand clutching desperately at his t-shirt. He sighed.

\u201cBrendon, go to sleep.\u201d

\u201cI want you to stay with me,\u201d Brendon pleaded, \u201cplease?\u201d

Ryan ran a hand through his already tousled hair and said, \u201cAlright, move over.\u201d

Brendon smiled and scooted over to allow room for Ryan. Ryan settled himself down beside the younger boy and locked eyes with him.

\u201cWhat\u2019s so special about me, huh?\u201d he asked, \u201cwhy do you pay so much attention to me?\u201d

Brendon pressed himself close to Ryan, wrapping his arms around the skinny boy\u2019s shoulders and nuzzling his head into his neck. Ryan could feel the smile on Brendon\u2019s lips against his skin.

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Brendon mumbled, \u201cyou\u2019re you. Warm and soft and-\u201d he paused to yawn, \u201cpretty.\u201d

\u201cDid you seriously just call me pretty?\u201d

\u201cMhm. Very pretty.\u201d

\u2026

\u201cGo to sleep, Brendon.\u201d

* * *<\/center>

Brendon groaned, shifting against Ryan and snuggling deeper into his warmth.

\u201cMorning,\u201d he whispered into Ryan\u2019s ear.

Ryan hesitantly opened his eyes as he replied, \u201cgood morning, Brendon.\u201d

\u201cWhere are we?\u201d

Ryan chuckled. \u201cWe\u2019re at the cabin, Bren,\u201d he said, \u201cthe one in the mountains.\u201d

\u201cMountain in the middle of the\u2026 what?\u201d Brendon whined, confused.

Ryan laughed as Brendon slowly started to realize what was going on. Then he started laughing along. The laughing slowed to a small chuckle every few minutes. Ryan\u2019s smile was small, but it was still there as his fingers brushed over Brendon\u2019s knuckles. He made to grab Brendon\u2019s hand, but Brendon suddenly jumped out of the bed and ran to the door.

\u201cI gotta see this cabin thing!\u201d he exclaimed before rushing out of the room.

Ryan sighed.

Why does he have to be so \u2026 Brendon?<\/i> he wondered.

* * *<\/center>

The lined notebook paper was stress-crumpled to the point where you\u2019d think Ryan snatched it from the trash. He was stuck. He\u2019d never been stuck. The words usually just flow out of him with such ease. It\u2019d never been this hard before. He blamed it on Brendon and his lovability.

Do you know what I mean?<\/i>

\u201cWhat the hell!\u201d Ryan cried, tugging at his hair. The others obviously heard as they all filed into the dining room of the cabin simultaneously.

\u201cSomething wrong, Ryan?\u201d Spencer asked.

\u201cThese lyrics. I have no idea what to do!\u201d Ryan vented.

Brendon sat on the chair beside Ryan and read over his shoulder.

\u201cNine in the afternoon?\u201d he laughed, \u201cdoes that even exist?\u201d

\u201cShut up.\u201d

\u201cYou could try taking a break,\u201d Jon suggested, \u201cit helps, I hear.\u201d

\u201cI can\u2019t, Jon. I need to finish this song now.\u201d

\u201cBut-\u201d

\u201cJon, leave it,\u201d Spencer said, tugging on his boyfriend\u2019s arm. \u201cIt\u2019s how he does things. Let\u2019s leave him be.\u201d

Jon sighed and walked to the door with Spencer. The younger of the two turned and said, \u201cBrendon, you coming?\u201d

Brendon had a distant expression plastered on his face. His eyes were focused intently on what Ryan had written so far.

\u201cNo, no, you guys go. I think I\u2019ll stay with Ryan,\u201d he insisted.

\u201cDon\u2019t come crawling back to us when he combusts or something,\u201d Jon warned.

Then they left, leaving Ryan and Brendon alone together. Ryan studied Brendon thoughtfully, wondering why he was so\u2026 detached. This wasn\u2019t like him. Not at all.

\u201cBrendon?\u201d he whispered, and even that seemed to startle the unfocused boy. \u201cYou okay?\u201d

Brendon nodded, but then shook his head right after.

\u201cI don\u2019t know, Ryan. It\u2019s just- every time-\u201d he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. \u201cRyan, remember this morning, when we woke up next to each other?\u201d

Ryan smiled and nodded quickly.

\u201cYeah, well,\u201d Brendon paused, \u201cthat was nice. I liked that. It felt\u2026 Perfect. I wouldn\u2018t mind waking up like that every day.\u201d

Ryan blushed and stuttered, \u201cY-yeah, you had the same effect on me.\u201d

An awkward silence ensued. Ryan\u2019s fingers drummed absently on the wooden tabletop and Brendon nervously played with his choppy hair.

\u201cI think I know what to write now,\u201d Ryan said suddenly.

\u201cHmm?\u201d Brendon seemed confused at first but then his eyes lit up. \u201cOh! Okay! I- I\u2019ll leave you to it then.\u201d

He got up out of his chair and skipped over to the door. Before exiting, he turned toward Ryan and gave a half-smile. Ryan returned it and waved. Once Brendon had left, Ryan added more of his messy scrawl to the page.

Back to the place where we used to say, \u201cman it feels good to feel this way.\u201d<\/i>

* * *<\/center>

I know it\u2019s mad, but if I go to hell will you come with me or just leave?<\/i>

This was getting ridiculous. Words had always been easy for Ryan. The only thing he had ever wanted to understand was language. But now he also wanted to understand Brendon. He wanted to understand with perfect clarity exactly who that boy was, and it seemed to be all he could think about.

He had resorted to doodling in the margins of the paper when the words left him. He\u2019d almost finished the song. There were just a few lines left until it was done. And he\u2019d almost had those words, but they slipped away the moment he prepared to write them down, replaced by thoughts of chocolate eyes andgod-like<\/i> hips.

And those lips<\/i>. Those full, perfect lips. Ryan often found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss them. He wanted to, probably more than anything and he didn\u2019t doubt at all that it might be unhealthy for him to want to kiss Brendon that<\/i> much. But it didn\u2019t really matter anymore. All he wanted was BrendonBrendonBrendon<\/i>, and he\u2019d get him some day.

He smiled as he added another line to the almost complete song.

I know it\u2019s mad, but if the world were ending would you kiss me or just leave me?<\/i>

* * *<\/center>

You remind me of a former love that I once knew. And you carry a little piece with you.<\/i>

Words; they never came as easily to Brendon as they did to Ryan. He just wasn\u2019t as deep and thoughtful a person as Ryan and there was nothing he could do about that. But he had insisted on writing at least one song for the album. Last time Ryan did all the work, he got a bit too stressed out and would ignore Brendon and Spencer and Brent for extended periods of time. Brendon wanted to lift some of the weight from his shoulders, and Ryan had been grateful when he offered to write a song or two.

\u201cI don\u2019t want you freaking out like you did last time,\u201d Brendon had said, \u201cbecause that was some scary shit.\u201d

And Ryan had smiled. He\u2019d smiled just perfectly and it was beautiful<\/i>. Brendon had no idea why he felt these things about his best friend. He didn\u2019t want to call it abnormal, but it probably wasn\u2019t the best thing for him. He just didn\u2019t know what it was. Neither of them could clarify their feelings for each other, so they remained unsaid and bottled up.

Brendon was stuck. He still had a lot more he needed to add before what he\u2019d written could even be considered a song. He couldn\u2019t help but wonder how Ryan did this. It was, like, impossible. Foreign. He guessed he\u2019d been staring at the near-blank page for almost a half hour.

\u201cTough, isn\u2019t it?\u201d

Brendon looked up to meet Ryan\u2019s eyes.

\u201cYeah,\u201d he breathed. \u201chow do you do this?\u201d

\u201cComes naturally.\u201d Usually<\/i>. \u201cTake a walk with me?\u201d

\u201cSure,\u201d Brendon smiled. He stood up and grabbed his coat off the rack on the wall, slipping it on and opening the door for Ryan. \u201cAfter you.\u201d

Ryan grinned and said, \u201cWhy thank you, kind sir.\u201d

\u201cJust being a gentleman.\u201d

\u201cAnd a fine one you are.\u201d

After the brief and silly exchange they walked in silence along a dirt path through the sparse trees. For a while Ryan maintained his composure, but the temperature was finally getting to him. He shivered slightly and his teeth barely chattered.

\u201cCold,\u201d he mumbled.

Brendon sent him a concerned glance. Despite the conditions, he shrugged his warm jacket off and hung it over Ryan\u2019s shoulders.

\u201cBetter?\u201d he asked.

Ryan smiled and nodded.

\u201cBut you\u2019re probably cold now, aren\u2019t you?\u201d he asked.

\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter,\u201d Brendon shrugged, \u201cwhat\u2019s a bit of cold air gonna do to me?\u201d

\u201cYou\u2019re too nice to me.\u201d

Brendon smiled at Ryan whose eyes were focused straight ahead. Their hands brushed and Ryan pulled back, but Brendon grabbed his hand just in time and held it in his own. Ryan blushed and sent his attention to his shuffling feet. Brendon continued to stare.

When Ryan looked up, he asked, \u201cwhat?\u201d

Brendon grinned. \u201cNothing.\u201d

\u201cYou\u2019re staring at me.\u201d

\u201cJust taking in the scenery.\u201d

They stayed out until Brendon\u2019s lips turned blue from the cold. Both were relieved when they stepped into the warm, heated cabin, and they let out heavy sighs of comfort.

\u201cI\u2019m going to bed, Brendon,\u201d Ryan said, \u201c you coming?\u201d

\u201cNah, I think I\u2019ll work on this song for a bit,\u201d Brendon replied.

\u201cYou want me to-\u201d

\u201cDon\u2019t wait up. It won\u2019t take long,\u201d Brendon promised.

Ryan smiled because he knew that he had sparked some inspiration. Just like Brendon had done earlier, when Ryan was struggling with his words.

\u201cAlright,\u201d he sighed, \u201cdon\u2019t think too much.\u201d

Brendon was already scribbling new words on the page.

We were holding hands walking through the middle of the street. It\u2019s fine with me, I\u2019m just taking in the scenery.<\/i>

* * *<\/center>

Northern downpour sends its love.<\/i>

Brendon slid into the seat next to Ryan and read over his shoulder, frowning at the lyrics he had written down so far.

\u201cDon\u2019t you think it\u2019s a little bit depressing?\u201d he commented.

\u201cDon\u2019t you think I\u2019m a little bit depressing?\u201d Ryan retorted calmly.

Brendon smiled. \u201cNo,\u201d he said, \u201cnot at all.\u201d

Ryan blushed and looked away, his eyes catching the sight of the moon through the window. It was bright and shining and - oh my god.

\u201cHoly shit, look at that full moon.\u201d

\u201cWhat about it?\u201d Brendon laughed.

\u201cLook<\/i> at it, Brendon. It\u2019s - it\u2019s beautiful,\u201d Ryan stammered. He\u2019d never seen such a perfect and round moon. And seeing it then, with Brendon\u2019s warmth pressing against he and his face being lit just so by the shine of the moon, he wouldn\u2019t have wanted to see it under any other circumstances.

Then Spencer stormed in, grinning from ear to ear, Jon close behind.

\u201cRyan, Ryan, shit,\u201d he gasped \u201clook at the -\u201d

\u201cI know,\u201d Ryan said, his eyes not leaving Brendon\u2019s face. \u201cThe moon. I know.\u201d

Jon smirked and mumbled, \u201cShit, Spin, they\u2019re making sex eyes at each other. We should go.\u201d

A pen flew from Ryan and Brendon\u2019s direction, hitting Jon square on the nose, leaving a large blue dash on his face. Spencer laughed and wiped the ink away before it had time to dry.

Ryan and Brendon continued to gaze at each other, not breaking eye contact once. Jon, confused as hell, shrugged and paced the room. He would have left, but he wanted to stay with Spencer because - well, Spencer<\/i>.

\u201cYou\u2019re not depressing, Ryan,\u201d Brendon murmured, leaning forward to direct the words into Ryan\u2019s ear. \u201cYou\u2019re perfect.\u201d

He pulled back just slightly so he could press his lips lightly against Ryan\u2019s, reaching for the older boy\u2019s hand and taking it in his own.

\u201cThank you,\u201d Ryan whispered against Brendon\u2019s lips, \u201cy-you\u2019re perfect, too.\u201d

\u201cI don\u2019t want this night to end, Ry.\u201d

\u201cNeither do I.\u201d

Jon let out and uncharacteristic \u2018awww\u2019 at the scene before him, earning him a crumpled up paper-ball to the head. He opened up the messily folded note and read the unfinished lyrics. Grinning, he picked up the pen from its landing place on the floor and added another line, his handwriting distinctive against Ryan\u2019s.

Hey moon, please forget to fall down.<\/i>

* * *<\/i><\/i><\/center>

I was born with curiosity. The likes of those of old crows.<\/i>

Ryan couldn\u2019t say he\u2019d heard Brendon playing piano since they\u2019d arrived at the cabin. But when he heard it for the first time in almost a month, he was very, very<\/i> relieved. Not only does the sound of Brendon\u2019s playing comfort him, but when something is bothering Brendon he tends to avoid music altogether. Most people are the exact opposite.

So when Ryan heard a faint melody from the only room in the cabin with a piano, he smiled. He wondered if Brendon had played at the cabin before while he was asleep or something, considering it was nearly two in the morning. (Why he was awake at that hour was because he couldn\u2019t keep his mind off of Brendon. But he\u2019d never admit it out loud. To the world he was just another insomniac lyricist.) But he cast the thought aside because: why would Brendon be awake at two?

(The reason Brendon was awake at that hour is that he couldn\u2019t keep his mind off of Ryan. But he\u2019d never admit it out loud. To the world he was just another insomniac pianist.)

Slowly and quietly Ryan picked his way around two passed out lovers and tiptoed to the piano room. As silently as he could, he pushed the door open and peered through the gap. Brendon was fully enveloped in the music. His eyes were closed, a small smile playing on his lips, and to see him like this every day of his life Ryan would give anything.

The wordless song came to a sudden end as Brendon\u2019s fingers froze on the keys.

\u201cI know you\u2019re there, Ryan,\u201d he said, \u201cyou might as well come in.\u201d

Ryan\u2019s eyes widened. He thought he\u2019d been so quiet, and above the music, how could Brendon have heard him anyway? It\u2019s not like he\u2019d set a bomb off in the room or anything.

(Not in the room. But he\u2019d placed his bomb elsewhere, somewhere deep in Brendon\u2019s heart.)

\u201cS-sorry,\u201d Ryan stuttered, \u201cdid you want me to leave?\u201d

Brendon turned and smiled sheepishly at the startled\/somewhat confused boy.

\u201cI just invited you in, didn\u2019t I?\u201d

Ryan laughed half-heartedly and nodded. He made his way over to join Brendon in front of the piano and tentatively seated himself on the glossy bench.

\u201cDid your song have words?\u201d

He spoke before he\u2019d even realized he\u2019d opened his mouth. Instantly, Ryan clasped his hands over his lips and said from behind his fingers, \u201cI mean, uh-\u201d

\u201cRelax, dude,\u201d Brendon laughed, \u201cit\u2019s not like you asked me to marry you.\u201d

Ryan blushed.

\u201cIf you really want to know, it had lyrics. I just didn\u2019t feel like singing them.\u201d

\u201cWho is it about?\u201d

Ryan hadn\u2019t meant to say who. He had meant to say \u2018what\u2019, or even rephrase his question to be more respectful, like \u2018are they about anything at all?\u2019 But instead, he\u2019d assumed that the song was about a person, and while he\u2019d never say it out loud, he\u2019d secretly hoped the person was he.

Brendon just smirked at him and replied, \u201cNo one.\u201d

And oh, how the piano knows, the piano knows something I don\u2019t know.<\/i>

* * *<\/i><\/i><\/center>

The moon was gone. The full, glimmering moon from just a few weeks ago had disappeared completely. It was now nothing but a dark gap in the starry sky. Ryan stared up at the gap from his lying position in the grass, wondering how something so perfect could go away so quickly. He wondered if everything could run away like that. He wondered if love could leave as quickly.

He didn\u2019t want to think about it, so he stopped.

He stopped thinking and shifted his eyes from the black hole in the sky to the bright white stars that pinpricked the black abyss. And he smiled, because if the stars are always there, then there\u2019s some hope that things will stay forever, isn\u2019t there?

As he smiled up at the stars, there\u2019s warmth pressed against his left side and around his waist. His heart rate picked up because he knew who was there. And normally he\u2019d be angry that someone had intruded on his peace and quiet, but this was Brendon, so he was okay with it. He was more than okay with it.

\u201cRemember when the moon was there? And how utterly perfect it was?\u201d Brendon whispered.

Ryan nodded.

\u201cAnd how Spencer had to come in and tell you about it, but you already knew because you\u2019re a mad genius? And how I gave you the most amazing kiss of your -\u201d

\u201cStop exaggerating, Brendon.\u201d

\u201cSorry.\u201d

They laid in silence for a while longer, Ryan staring up at the sky and Brendon holding the thin boy against him. Ryan was the first one to break this silence.

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with us, Brendon?\u201d

Brendon didn\u2019t know how to reply to this, only because nothing was wrong with them. They were just two normal guys in a nearly world-famous band who just so happened to have fallen for each other in a matter of weeks. It\u2019s nothing new.

\u201cNothing, Ryan. We\u2019re sane. We\u2019re good.\u201d

\u201cWe\u2019re stupid, Bren,\u201d Ryan sighed, \u201cwe\u2019re so, so<\/i> stupid.\u201d

\u201cWe\u2019re not stupid,\u201d Brendon said, \u201cwe\u2019re just\u2026 a little different, that\u2019s all.\u201d

\u201cWhat makes us so different?\u201d

\u201cWell, we\u2019re famous because we\u2019re hot and I guess our music might have something to do with it. We talk to Patrick Stump almost every day, and we\u2019ve got every girl\u2019s kinky fantasy partner putting out our albums. I\u2019d say that\u2019s pretty\u2026 Odd.\u201d

\u201cPretty odd,\u201d Ryan smiled, \u201cyeah.\u201d

\u201cAnd maybe the fact that I\u2019ve fallen for you, Ryan Ross. Maybe I\u2019ve fallen for you hard, and maybe that makes me a little weird,\u201d Brendon murmured into Ryan\u2019s ear.

\u201cAnd maybe I\u2019m equally as fucked, because I caught you, didn\u2019t I?\u201d

\u201cAnd I didn\u2019t even have to ask.\u201d

That night, before Brendon went to bed, he wrote Folkin\u2019 Around.

Allow me to exaggerate a memory or two.<\/i>

Ryan didn\u2019t get it.

But then he did.

* * *<\/i><\/i><\/center>

When the four boys all get together and write Mad as Rabbits, they have no idea<\/i> what they\u2019re doing. Brendon\u2019s shouting random words, demanding that they be written down immediately<\/i> because he is \u2018master of the lyrics, bow down to me, Spencer Smith.\u2019 Jon really doesn\u2019t get too involved, but he does like to throw in some grammar corrections here and there. Yeah, Jon Walker: Grammar Freak. It\u2018ll be a reality show soon. Spencer is trying to take all the demands and ideas in, because he\u2019s got the pen and the paper and the neatest handwriting. And a headache.

Ryan just wants to get some meaning in there. He thinks about being mad (as a rabbit), or thinking he was mad. He remembers asking Brendon what made them so stupid, so crazy, so insane<\/i>. When it was nothing, really. And he remembers his own bad habits. His own tendency to think the worst, like to think that the moon disappearing behind the night is some kind of omen involving his love, but that hasn\u2019t disappeared yet.

So Ryan smiles. He smiles and everyone sees and immediately shuts up because Ryan Ross does not<\/i> smile during the lyric writing process. This is totally new to everyone at the table. Even Brendon hasn\u2019t seen this smile from Ryan, and Brendon\u2019s induced more smiles than he can count.

\u201cWhy do you look so goofy, Ross?\u201d Jon asks.

\u201cSpencer, I hope you plan on writing this down,\u201d Ryan suggests.

Spencer turns his face down to the page and gets his pen ready. Brendon meets Ryan\u2019s eyes, and they don\u2019t break eye contact as Ryan recites the lyrics.

\u201cWho could ask for any more<\/i>?\u201d

Then Brendon\u2019s smiling, and then Spencer\u2019s smiling, which makes Jon smile, and the room\u2019s blindingly lit with knowing smiles and everyone\u2019s just happy<\/i>. Then Spencer and Jon\u2019s eyes are locked and they simultaneously say, \u201cWho could have more?\u201d

And when they finally have the final words written down on the once clean sheet of paper, Ryan thinks that maybe they have<\/i> reinvented love. And nobody\u2019s ever going to love like they do.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:2300","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/2300.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=2300"}}],"title":"Obsequious [2\/?]","published":"2008-04-22T03:06:59Z","updated":"2008-04-22T03:06:59Z","content":"Title<\/b>: Obsequious [2\/?]
Author<\/b>: <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/b>: PG-13
Pairing<\/b>: Ryden, Treckett
Summary<\/b>: Brendon takes it as a sign that he doesn't want to talk about it. And he has to respect that.<\/i>
Disclaimer<\/b>: As real as Hannah Montana\u2018s hair. Cut belongs to Cobra Starship; \u201cThe World Has It\u2019s Shine (But I Would Drop It On A Dime)\u201d
A\/N<\/b>: Argh, I know, this is really short. Don\u2019t hate me. I was running low on creative juices\u2026 Ew. Umm, I promise there\u2019s some good stuff coming up soon. Don\u2019t lose your faith in meee!<3
Mad props [see my gangsta lingo?] to <\/a>silentpoetry1<\/b><\/a><\/span>  and <\/a>mere_thnetos<\/b><\/a><\/span>  for being awesome and stuff.

***

Travis was right. Eventually, Ryan and Brendon did click. It took a while. Getting Ryan Ross to open up and let someone in was not as easy as it should have been. And even though best friends is now an understatement of their relationship, Brendon knows that there's still something Ryan's keeping locked inside.

It'll be something he says or the way he reacts to certain things that'll trigger it. Ryan will either go really quiet or change the subject when it comes to Las Vegas, his family or, \"that one bruise that totally looks like a kitten. Ryan, you have a kitten on your arm. Hahaha.\" And Brendon knows<\/i>. He knows something's not right. And he's determined to find out just what it is.

The two of them are sprawled out on the grass at the local park, enjoying the somewhat warm weather while it lasts. The sun is setting, and both of them are testing their parents' patience and leniency by staying out after dark.

\"Ry, our parents are so going to kill us when we get home,\" Brendon jokes.

Ryan doesn't laugh. \"Yeah,\" he says, \"they are.\"

Brendon turns his head to face Ryan and frowns. He considers asking what wrong, but Ryan looks detached and uninterested. Brendon takes it as a sign that he doesn't want to talk about it. And he has to respect that.

The silence is eating him alive. He can't take it. He's going to die if one of them doesn't say something soon.

\"Ryan,\" he mumbles, \"do you believe in love at first sight?\" The second he says it, he wants to shoot himself in the face. He's positive he sounds like an idiot, and he's expecting, \"No, you douche bag, what does that have to do with anything?\" It's not what he gets.

\"Yes. Why?\"

\"J-just curious,\" Brendon stutters, confused. Ryan turns to face him and they smile lightly at each other.

\"What?\" Brendon asks.

Ryan smile grows bigger. \"Nothing,\" he insists.

\"What's that smile?\" Brendon persists, now grinning widely.

\"Don't worry about it!\" Ryan smiles.

Brendon shrugs. His eyes slip closed and he breathes in the slightly humid air. It carries Ryan's scent, and he smiles. It's perfect.

Ryan's insides are twisting just by looking at Brendon's flawless, serene expression. \"I believe in love at first sight,\" he says quietly, \"but I didn't before I met you.\"

\"Ryan\u2026\" Brendon sighs, keeping his eyes closed.

\"You're too good for me, Bren. You have no Idea. I can't-\"

Brendon opens his eyes and frowns. \"But, Ry, I-\" He freezes as his phone vibrates in his back pocket. He winces as he reads his mother's name upon the screen.

\"Shit,\" he curses under his breath, \"Ryan, I have to go. My mom is going to be so pissed. Bye!\"

He gets up and walks five steps before turning and running back. He bends down and kisses Ryan on the cheek and mouths a silent, \"I love you,\" before running off again.

Ryan bites his lip as Brendon disappears. When he's completely out of view, Ryan sighs, \"You can't. I don't want to hurt you, Brendon\u2026\"

***

Ryan stays at the park for another hour. He knows what's going to happen when he gets home. He's hesitant to have it happen again. But people are glaring at him suspiciously through lit windows and he decides he'll go home before someone calls the cops on him for loitering or suspicious behavior or something. Is love legal?

The walk home is uneventful. The people who had been worried about his presence have finally turned out the lights. Judging by the time-almost one in the morning-they've sunk into their sheets and allowed themselves a peaceful sleep. He wishes he could do the same.

As soon as he steps through the front door, he's greeted by his father's form. And he knows what's coming in the same instant.

\"Sorry, Dad,\" he mumbles uselessly.

His dad doesn't forgive him.

Ryan doesn't show up at school the next day.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:1970","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/1970.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=1970"}}],"title":"trylohbyte @ 2008-04-14T19:42:00","published":"2008-04-15T02:48:27Z","updated":"2008-04-15T02:48:27Z","content":"Title<\/span>: Obsequious
Author<\/span>: <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
Rating<\/span>: PG-13 for language.
Pairing<\/span>: Ryden, Treckett
Summary<\/span>: \u201cWell, did you click with him?\u201d<\/span>
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/span>
\u201cBut there was no mutual clickage?\u201d<\/span>
\u201cNone.\u201d<\/span>
Disclaimer<\/span>: Liar, liar, plants for hire. :] Cut belongs to The Hush Sound; \u201cHoney.\u201d
A\/N<\/span>: I love all the \u201ccute\u201d comments I\u2019m getting. They really make me wanna keep this going. You have no idea. ;] Again, <\/a>mere_thnetos<\/b><\/a><\/span>  & <\/a>silentpoetry1<\/b><\/a><\/span>  = love.

\"Will, Travie, Jon\u2026 This is Ryan.\"

The boys are seated at a cold, metal cafeteria table. Jon, as always, is stuffing his face with the mystery meal, and Travis and William have taken to cuddling. It wasn't unexpected. Ryan waves nervously as all three of them look up at him. Will is the first one to smile.

\"You're new here?\" he asks.

He nods and quickly says, \"My dad and I, we just moved here from Vegas.\"

\"All the way from Vegas?\" Jon gasps, his mouth full of food. Will smacks him for his lack of table manners.

Travis finally pipes up with, \"It's a long way from Vegas to New York. Why move so far?\"

\"My parents split. My dad wanted to get away from my mom. Far away. So,\" he bites his lip, \"New York was his first idea.\"

\"Well, kid,\" Travis says, \"consider yourself lucky that Brendon was the first popular to find you. Everyone else treats the new kids like shit.\"

\"Especially Jon,\" Will jokes. It's his turn to be smacked now.

\"Imagine if it had been Ashlee, guys,\" Jon commented. \"Can you imagine-\"

\"Oh, God, Jon,\" Brendon groans. \"Don't even start. Can't we just be glad that her boyfriend is a decent kid and leave her out?\"

\"What's wrong with her?\" Ryan asks carefully.

\"Bitch,\" Travis states simply. \"Won't think twice about you unless she meets you through Pete.\"

\"Not to mention, she's a gay hater,\" Will fumed.

\"A dedicated homophobe. But Pete's our friend, so she has to deal with us,\" Brendon adds smugly.

\"Speak of the devil,\" Jon mumbles under his breath.

All five of them shut their mouths as an innocent-looking blonde girl approaches the table. A vertically challenged boy, Pete, Ryan guesses, is trudging along beside her. She seats herself on the cold tabletop.

\"Hey guys!\" she chirps, and for a second, you could be fooled into thinking she's a good person. Her eyes slowly travel to Ryan, scrutinizing him. \"Who's this?\"

\"Ashlee, this is Ryan,\" Brendon says slowly; cautiously.

Ashlee continues to suspiciously inspect Ryan. A smirk slowly crosses her lips.

\"Ashlee\u2026\" Pete warns.

\"Shut up, Peter. Brendon,\" she smiles, \"is Ryan gay?\"

Pete pulls his hood over his eyes and shakes his head disapprovingly. \"Do you have to do this?\" he mumbles, too quiet for Ashlee to hear him.

\"I don't-\"

\"Aw, sweetheart,\" Ryan interrupts. \"I'm sorry, but I am. You don't have to be jealous, hun.\"

He pauses to wrap his arm around Brendon's shoulder. He leans into the younger boy and smiles sweetly.

\"I'm sure Brendon can share.\"

\"Um, ew. No thanks. Let's go Pete,\" Ashlee sneers. \"They're not worth our time.\"

She hops off the table and grabs the sleeve of her boyfriend's hoodie. He throws the insulted boys a sympathetic smile and waves as he's dragged away.

The second the couple is out of earshot, Travis bursts out laughing. \"Dude, you are so red right now!\" he shouts at Brendon.

\"Shut up, Trav,\" Brendon grumbles.

Ryan detaches himself from Brendon and says, \"Don't get any ideas. That meant absolutely nothing.\"

Brendon pouts indignantly. \"Are you sure?\"

\"Pretty much.\"

***

Brendon, Will and Travis like to stay behind after school and just chill on campus. They prefer to wait for the traffic to clear before they file into their cars and head home. Traffic in the parking lot is still heavy, even an hour after the final bell has rung. Travis is leaning comfortably against the flagpole (leave it to Travis to find a comfortable spot on a tall, metal column) and Will is seated on his lap, his eyes fixed on Travie's.

\"You think he meant it, Will?\" Brendon sighs.

\"Meant what? Who?\" Will murmurs without breaking eye contact with Travis.

\"Do you guys think you could stop being so perfect for each other so I can get some well-deserved sympathy?\" Brendon fumes.

\"Right, sorry.\" Will turns his head to face Brendon and rests it against Travis' chest. \"What's wrong?\"

\"Do you think that,\" he pauses, \"that I really mean nothing to Ryan?\"

\"Well, were you expecting him to fall head over heels in love with you in one day?\" Travis asks, laughing.

\"Well, I was hoping that maybe\u2026\" He bites his lip and focuses his attention on the grass instead of his friend. \"Maybe I'd meet someone who I just clicked with. Like you guys.\"

Will smiles widely. \"Aw, Travie, isn't that adorable? He wants a love story!\" he squeals.

\"You're not helping, Will!\" Brendon shouts.

\"Calm down, B,\" Travie warns. \"You like this Ryan guy, don't you?\"

Brendon nods.

\"Well, did you click with him?\"

\"Yes.\"

\"But there was no mutual clickage?\"

\"None.\"

\"It'll happen sooner or later,\" Will comforts. \"I promise.\"<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:1631","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/1631.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=1631"}}],"title":"Obsequious - Prologue","published":"2008-04-08T03:59:52Z","updated":"2008-04-08T04:00:36Z","content":"Title<\/b>: Obsequious
Author<\/b>: <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span>
Rating<\/b>: PG for now, but will go up later. [Don\u2019t get your hopes up. =)]
Pairing<\/b>: Ryden, Treckett
Summary<\/b>: Brendon wants to be like that. He wants to be Brendon & Anonymous. He wants to belong with someone.<\/i>
Disclaimer<\/b>: I lie. A lot.
A\/N<\/b>: Loves to my beta:  <\/a>mere_thnetos<\/b><\/a><\/span>  And also: <\/a>silentpoetry1<\/b><\/a><\/span> for helping me out, like, a lot. She gave me the title. :]
<\/u><\/font>

<\/u><\/font><\/p>

Prologue<\/u><\/font><\/u><\/p> <\/u>

Brendon Urie has a perfect life. He comes from a wealthy family and lives in a fairly large home as an only child. He's been blessed with popularity. His three best friends, Jon, Travis and William, are the greatest friends any teenager could ask for. And his parents and peers are fully accepting of his homosexuality. His life outshines most others. He's got almost everything he could ask for. Almost<\/i> everything.<\/font><\/p>

He's single. He doesn't like being single. In fact, he hates it. Maybe it wouldn't bother him much if Travis and William weren't together, because then he wouldn't have to see the perfect relationship he doesn't have every day. But because they're his friends, he has to witness it.<\/font><\/p>

He wants to be held the way Travie holds Will, and he wants to be able to kiss someone outside of his family. Well, any girl would be ready and willing to accept his kisses. But, as previously stated, he doesn't roll that way. It's probably not good for a person's mental health to be jealous of one's friends, but Brendon is extremely green when it comes to Travie & Will. Because it's always<\/i> Travie & Will. Never Travie, and never Will. They're always together.<\/font><\/p>

Brendon wants to be like that. He wants to be Brendon & Anonymous. He wants to belong with someone.<\/font><\/p>

This very thought crosses his mind one day in the cafeteria during lunch. Jon's stuffing his face with whatever crap the old ladies are serving, and Will and Travie are giggling quietly and mumbling sweet nonsense to each other.<\/font><\/p>

\"Hey, Travie? Will?\" Brendon asks, worried that he'll be shouted at for interrupting the romance. But Will just turns his head and smiles shyly.<\/font><\/p>

\"Yeah, Bren?\"<\/font><\/p>

\"How did you and Travie meet? Was it, like\u2026\" Brendon suddenly feels very embarrassed and he struggles to get his next words out, \"love at first sight?\"<\/font><\/p>

Travis chuckles, and Brendon instantly regrets saying anything. \"I feel ridiculous for saying this, but I guess it kind of was.\" He smiles. \"I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.\"<\/font><\/p>

William detaches himself from Travie, smirking at the displeased noise the older boy makes. He folds his hands under his chin and tells the story. \"It was the first time I'd ever gotten detention and-\"<\/font><\/p>

Jon drops his spoon (Fork? Spork? Whatever.) and leans in. \"This is going to be good, I can tell,\" he mumbles.<\/font><\/p>

William glares at him, warning him not to interrupt again. \"As I was saying, my first detention ever, and definitely not my last. I walk in and everyone stares at me like I'm some sort of freak, which, I guess to them, I was. They'd never seen me before, so I was different to them. An outcast, for the first time in my life. But then I see this one,\" he gestures to Travie, \"smiling at me and waving for me to sit in the seat next to him. I guess we just kind of... I don't know\u2026\"<\/font><\/p>

Travie leans over and wraps his arm around Will's shoulders. \"Clicked?\"<\/font><\/p>

\"Yeah,\" William sighs. \"We clicked.\"<\/font><\/p>

Brendon bites his lip. \"Wow. I wish I had a story like that to tell.\"<\/font><\/p>

\"And someday you will, Little Boy B.\"<\/font><\/p>

\"Don't call me that, Jon.\"<\/font><\/p>

***<\/font><\/p>

Brendon's never thought about his single status this<\/i> much. He usually forgets about it, telling himself that, as the second most popular kid in school, he's going to find someone some day. But after hearing Will and Travie's story, he doesn't just<\/span> want to find someone. Now, he wants to just see<\/i> someone and have his whole entire world flip around. He wants to feel it the second he sees him. He wants to be the one making people jealous.<\/font><\/p>

He never thought he'd admit to himself that he wanted a fairytale. It seemed like too much of a girly thing. But then again, he's not the manliest kid alive.<\/font><\/p>

Thinking this much, especially about something so trivial, can't be healthy for my mind, <\/i>he tells himself warily. But he continues to dwell upon it as he enters his chemistry classroom. He looks up from his shuffling feet and smiles half-heartedly at familiar faces. But there's one person he's never seen before. Keep in mind, this is a very rare occasion. This person is sitting in his<\/i> spot. Everyone in his class knows it's his. Who does this guy think he is, just waltzing in and taking it? He scowls and makes his way over to confront the newcomer.<\/font><\/p>

\"Excuse me,\" he says, but he can't say another single word because he's instantly mesmerized by the most beautiful caramel eyes he's ever looked into.<\/font><\/p>

\"Yes?\" the boy says.<\/font><\/p>

\"Um, you,\" he pauses, \"you're in my... my spot,\" Brendon stutters.<\/font><\/p>

The boy smiles innocently and glances at the open seat next to him. \"Well, I think I can make room for you.\" He transfers himself from one seat to the other and pats the newly available chair. Brendon smiles and takes his seat.<\/font><\/p>

\"Thank you,\" he says. \"I'm Brendon, by the way. Brendon Urie.\"<\/font><\/p>

\"Ryan Ross.\"<\/font><\/p>
Brendon thinks he's found his fairytale.<\/font><\/div><\/font><\/u>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:1355","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/1355.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=1355"}}],"title":"Decorated Emergencies [standalone]","published":"2008-03-28T19:30:53Z","updated":"2008-03-28T19:32:05Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"ryden"}},"content":"Title<\/b>: Decorated Emergencies [s\/a]
Author<\/b>: tryLOHbyte
Rating<\/b>: I\u2019ll go with R for drug use. =P
Pairing<\/b>: Ryden
POV<\/b>: 3rd
Summary<\/b>: He plans on gummy bears for himself, bubble gum for Spencer and M&Ms for Jon. But nothing for Ryan. Ryan\u2019s got his own god damned candy.<\/i>
Disclaimer<\/b>: Title and cut belong to Panic At the Disco, along with the boys.
Author Notes<\/b>: Dedicated to my good friend, Derek:  
<\/a>bluemeadow193<\/b><\/a><\/span>
who totally helped me think of a decent way to start this thing out. I finished this up around midnight when I was like... tired as shazz. So if there's any mistakes in there or if anything's confusing, that's why.


It\u2019s four o\u2019clock in the morning. In other words, it\u2019s way too early for Ryan to be awake. It\u2019s way too early for him to be thinking this hard. He narrows his eyes at the small, orange bottle containing five, maybe six tiny white sleeping pills. The thought of using them for something other than sleep crosses his mind on a near daily basis. But he\u2019s never had the guts.

He picks up the bottle and shakes it, trying to determine how many he would need to take to feel the high but not kill him. He doesn\u2019t want to die. Not yet. He estimates about three of them. Three: \u2019The Magical Amount.\u2019 Ryan\u2019s probably going to kill himself if he ever sees that commercial again.

Then comes the task of actually opening the bottle. This part, Ryan could do without. These medication bottles are never easy to open. Child-proof, or whatever. He pushes and twists and pulls, but no luck. It remains securely closed.

Ryan\u2019s struggling with the container when a flash of bright red catches his eye. He looks up into the mirror and he can see Brendon\u2019s wide eyes staring at him. He can\u2019t tell if he\u2019s seeing disappointment in those eyes, or fear. Or maybe a combination of both. But as soon as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving Ryan alone again.

Ryan sighs and he puts the pill bottle back where it belongs: next to his collection of eyeliner and in front of the shadows in the medicine cabinet. He refrains from slamming the glass door to the cabinet shut. He doesn\u2019t want to have to deal with it when it shatters. He doesn\u2019t want to have to deal with himself, either.

Brendon\u2019s out in the lounge when Ryan emerges. There\u2019s probably going to be an explanation involved at some point. Ryan can\u2019t handle that. So he avoids it.

\u201cWhat are you doing up?\u201d he asks, avoiding eye contact.

\u201cI was prepared to ask you the same thing.\u201d Brendon sounds angry, if anything. Whether or not he knew what Ryan was planning didn\u2019t matter. It was the fact that Brendon hadn\u2019t been told what was going on. He wasn\u2019t given a chance to fix it. He didn\u2019t know he was the problem.

\u201cCouldn\u2019t sleep.\u201d

\u201cNeither could I. Sit down with me?\u201d Brendon pats the open seat next to him, inviting Ryan. Ryan hears the demand in the invitation, so he does what he\u2019s told.                       
 
As soon as he sits down, Brendon\u2019s arm is draped over his shoulder. He leans into the comfortable contact, because even if it\u2019s not what he needs, it\u2019s enough to get by for tonight. Ryan doesn\u2019t say a word when he feels Brendon\u2019s lips pressed firmly against the top of his head.

\u201cI really wish you would let me in, Ry.\u201d And he can feel the movement of Brendon\u2019s lips as the words tumble out.

He wants to. More than anything.

***

Maybe Ryan should be happy after playing a show. Maybe he shouldn\u2019t be thinking this much. But his mind always seems to wander to red-rimmed glasses and hidden pill bottles. Maybe he should be excited that after almost ten years of not speaking, his Dad finally started to give a damn. He should smile as the word \u2018Home\u2019 pops up on the screen of his sidekick. He should. But he doesn\u2019t.

He holds back a sigh as he hesitantly answers the unexpected and unwelcome call. \u201cDad?\u201d he guesses.

\u201cYeah, who the fuck else would it be?\u201d Ryan shudders when his dad responds because he can hear the alcohol in his voice. He can almost smell the whiskey, as if it was coating the phone. Ryan pulls it back just to double check that it\u2019s not.

\u201cI don\u2019t know, Dad,\u201d Ryan scowls after returning the phone to his ear. \u201cYou tell me.\u201d

\u201cI saw your show.\u201d

The phone almost slips from his hand as Ryan stills completely. \u201cI- uh\u2026 what?\u201d

\u201cYour stupid band. I saw.\u201d

\u201cYou haven\u2019t paid any attention to me for years, Dad. Why start now?\u201d

\u201cRead something in a magazine about some \u2018Brandon\u2019 kid. Who is the fag?\u201d

\u201cHis name is- Don\u2019t call him that!\u201d Ryan shouts.

\u201cSome fucking gay kid. I thought you were queer enough, I didn\u2019t know you hung out with others, too,\u201d his dad slurs. He pauses for a moment, probably to take a sip of whatever he was drinking that night. \u201cI\u2019ll fucking kill him if I see him touch you like that-\u201d

\u201cIt\u2019s called theatrics!\u201d Ryan screams as he throws the phone against the wall. He watched as it snaps in half and lands with a thud on the floor. His fingers are twitching. Curling. Something\u2019s supposed to be in them. Something needs to still them.

He walks swiftly to the tiny bathroom. The door slams shut behind him, and he clicks the lock automatically. When he opens the medicine cabinet, he\u2019s not shocked to find that the bottle\u2019s been removed. Hidden somewhere, or disposed of. Brendon saw too much the other night. He took precautions.

Ryan smiles, though, because why would he only bring one? Especially since he was running low upon starting the tour. No, he\u2019d brought multiple. There\u2019s a cabinet under the sink and Ryan bends down to explore it. He pulls out a roll of toilet paper and hit\u2019s the top of it roughly. A plastic, orange container falls through the cardboard tube in the center of the roll. Sometimes, Ryan\u2019s glad that Brendon doesn\u2019t think as much as he should.

He picks the bottle up off of the ground and struggles with it for a few minutes before getting it open. He doesn\u2019t count, but he estimates that he\u2019s got about five of the tiny white capsules in his hand. The jiggling of the door handle behind him makes Ryan laugh to himself.

It\u2019s locked, he thinks. I\u2019m safe.

It\u2019s only when he\u2019s got the pills in his mouth does he realize that the lock never worked very well. And soon he\u2019s face to face with Brendon. The jiggling he\u2019d heard earlier was all it actually took to open the \u201clocked\u201d door. Ryan tries a smile, but with pills crowding his mouth, it just doesn\u2019t look right. Brendon\u2019s eyes narrow and he swipes the pill bottle before Ryan could protest. Ryan swallows the pills after Brendon\u2019s gone from the bathroom.

He\u2019s passed out in Brendon\u2019s bunk an hour later.

***

He takes four or five; twice a day. He\u2019s been more acting more and more carefully with how he takes them. He\u2019ll take them while he showers, so when people pop in to check on him, they can\u2019t exactly reach through the curtain and grab the bottle. Or they could, if they wanted the reputation of a pervert. And even though he\u2019s been secretive about it, Brendon still knows.

He knows because Ryan falls asleep in his own bunk. But he passes out in Brendon\u2019s. It happened once when he had a little too much to drink, and after that when he\u2019d played a show on an hour of sleep. Brendon\u2019s bunk was a perfect place to faint, apparently.

Brendon tries his best not to think about it as he walks the streets of  San Francisco, their current tour stop. He\u2019s already done everything in his power. If Ryan wants to OD on his stupid sleeping pills, then let him, Brendon thinks. But then he\u2019s cursing himself for thinking such things. Especially about someone who means the world to him.

He tries not to think about Ryan when he enters a candy store on Stevenson. He plans on gummy bears for himself, bubble gum for Spencer and M&Ms for Jon. But nothing for Ryan. Ryan\u2019s got his own god damned candy. But he can\u2019t stop his mind from wandering when he reaches the counter. He sees those disgusting fake pills at the register, the ones that read \u2018Crazy Pills\u2019 or \u2018Stupid Pills.\u2019

He thinks, Would Ryan notice if I put these in his bottles? But he shakes his head and realizes that yes, he would notice, because Ryan\u2019s pills don\u2019t taste. These ones do. But what if\u2026

What if Brendon could convince Ryan to replace the addiction on his own? What if he got something and insisted that Ryan switched to a healthier alternative. Well.. Maybe candy isn\u2019t very healthy. But it\u2019s definitely better than what Ryan\u2019s stuck on now.

Brendon looks around the store, looking for something to offer. And then he sees them. A brightly colored bag, with pastel colors inside. He smiles and grabs it, drops it on the counter and says, \u201cThese too, please.\u201d

The cashier shoots him a questioning glance. No one should be this happy about candy. But then again, nobody should belt Disney songs at random, either. Brendon\u2019s a little different. When the plastic bag is handed to him, he skips back to the bus.

Upon entering the lounge, he tosses Jon and Spencer\u2019s treats to them and quickly makes his way to the bathroom. He kicks the door open and laughs a little bit when Ryan shows a shocked face in the mirror. In his hand were four tiny white pills. Brendon cringes as the sight of them. He takes them from Ryan\u2019s hand and flushes them down the toilet, along with the rest of the contents of the bottle. Before Ryan can start shouting about how he \u2018needs\u2019 them, Brendon slams the candies down on the counter before them.

Ryan arches an eyebrow, all anger dissipating into confusion. \u201cSmarties?\u201d he asks skeptically.

\u201cSmarties,\u201d Brendon repeats. He rips the bag open and takes one of the tubes out, pulling four of the colored circles out. He places them into Ryan\u2019s open hand and says, \u201cThey may not be good for you, but they\u2019re better than those fucking pills you take each day.\u201d

\u201cAre you trying to-\u201d

\u201cYes.\u201d

\u201cAnd how are you going to-\u201d

\u201cI watch you more than you think, Ryan Ross.\u201d

Brendon\u2019s gone before Ryan can ask what he means. Before Brendon can even realize he\u2019d just said something incredibly stupid. He\u2019s going to regret this.

***

Two weeks later, Brendon sees Ryan walk out of the bathroom, two small, orange bottles in hand. Ryan steps in front of Brendon and opens them. Brendon frowns and reaches for the bottles, but Ryan pulls back before any contact is made. He says, \u201cThese are the last two bottles, Brendon.\u201d

Ryan steps nonchalantly over to the sink in the \u2018kitchen\u2019 and flushes the contents of the bottles down the drain. A smile stretches across Brendon\u2019s face as the two empty bottles are thrown into the trash can. Ryan disappears into the bedroom for a moment before reappearing with a half-empty bag of Smarties in hand. He plops down beside Brendon and opens up a tube, popping one of the circular candies into his mouth before forcing one into Brendon\u2019s.

\u201cThese are better than any pills a doctor could prescribe me,\u201d he says.

\u201cYou\u2019re better than those pills,\u201d Brendon smiles half-heartedly.

\u201cWhat\u2019s that supposed to mean?\u201d

\u201cIt means you don\u2019t need to take them, because I know you\u2019re better than that.\u201d

\u201cWhat if I don\u2019t know that, though?\u201d

\u201cDon\u2019t you trust me?\u201d Brendon pouts.

Ryan grins. \u201cYes, I do. That\u2019s why I stopped.\u201d

Ryan\u2019s got a Smartie between his teeth, but he doesn\u2019t bite down onto his. Brendon arches an eyebrow curiously when Ryan straddles his legs and leans forward.

\u201cTake it,\u201d he says through his teeth.

Brendon blushes and laughs. He leans forward and takes the candy between his own teeth with every intention of pulling back. But as soon as he\u2019s close enough, Ryan\u2019s arms are around his neck, trapping him in a kiss. A very sweet one. Literally.

Brendon doesn\u2019t know what to do. He can\u2019t complain because he\u2019s wanted this for so long. But Ryan\u2019s never been anywhere near this bold before, and it scares him a little bit. Maybe those pills had some wacky effect on his friend. But Ryan pulls away soon enough. Too soon. His eyes are heavy with unspoken emotion. His breathing is slow and shallow and he makes no sound as he mouths the words \u2018I love you.\u2019

Brendon smiles and he places a kiss on Ryan\u2019s cheek. \u201cI love you, too,\u201d he breathes, unable to manage anything louder. \u201cI love you more than those pills did.\u201d

\u201cThat\u2019s why I replaced them with you.\u201d <\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:trylohbyte:1146","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/1146.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/trylohbyte.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=1146"}}],"title":"Lyrics?","published":"2007-12-12T06:31:38Z","updated":"2007-12-12T06:31:38Z","content":"Title:<\/b> I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth
Author:<\/b> <\/a>trylohbyte<\/b><\/a><\/span> 
<\/b><\/a>Pairing:<\/b> Pete\/Patrick
Rating:<\/b> PG-13. (for language, i guess.)
Disclaimer<\/span>: I only own these kids in my wildest dreams. :[
Summary:<\/b> Just as Patrick turned to leave, Pete spoke. \"Remember when it didn't mean anything?\"
<\/i>A\/N: <\/b>I was listening to a certain song (guess, i dare you) and this popped up. I probably spent.. like.. 3 or 4 days on it?

<\/i>Well, joke me something awful, just like kisses on the necks of best friends.
We\u2019re the kids who feel like dead ends.
And I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses.
I took a shot and didn\u2019t even come close.
At trust and love and hope.
And the poets are just kids who didn\u2019t make it.
And never had it at all<\/i>.
***
Patrick had grown accustomed to the stolen kisses. A couple each day was bearable, and more than 3 an hour was just a little weird, but it did happen. But when they became full, and passionate, things got awkward between Pete and Patrick. Sometimes they didn\u2019t even talk after them, though most of the time they did, because hey, they\u2019re best friends.

And who could help a little flutter of the heart when someone like Pete-fucking-Wentz kisses you? You think he\u2019d be used to the feeling by now, the shivering of his spine and the flipping of his stomach every time Pete laid his lips on his cheek or his neck or his mouth. But it still felt worse, yet somehow better, every time. You\u2019d be confused, too.

\u201cPete\u2026\u201d

\u201cWuddup, Lunchbox?\u201d Pete turned his head and planted an anticipated kiss on Patrick\u2019s cheek. Patrick shivered.

\u201cI love you.\u201d

\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d Pete got up and walked away. Patrick watched.
***
And the record won\u2019t stop skipping.
And the lies just won\u2019t stop slipping.
And besides, my reputation\u2019s on the line.
We can fake it for the airwaves.
Force our smiles, baby, half dead.
From comparing myself to everyone else around me.<\/i>
***
Eventually, Patrick got up and headed toward the back of the bus. Pete was laying down, looking asleep but when you\u2019re Pete Wentz, you\u2019re never really asleep<\/i>. Hemingway was sprawled across his chest, snoring as only Hemmy does.

\u201cAbout what?\u201d Patrick gave no greeting, no warning that he was about to speak. Pete jumped slightly, spooking Hemingway who bounced off and away.

\u201cWha--?\u201d Pete rubbed his eyes and gave his best confused look.

\u201cYou said you were sorry then left me. What\u2019re you so sorry about?\u201d Patrick asked again.

Pete motioned for Patrick to come sit beside him. Patrick did, and he crossed his arms to look as defiant as he could, which was difficult when you had a face like Patrick Stump\u2019s.

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, because I don\u2019t.\u201d

\u201cDon\u2019t what?\u201d Patrick knew the answer, but hearing it directly from Pete would make him feel better, but worse at the same time.

\u201cI don\u2019t love you.\u201d Pete seemed untroubled.

\u201cI know..\u201d Patrick sighed. \u201cBut couldn\u2019t we just pretend?\u201d

\u201cThat would be lying..\u201d Pete averted his eyes. \u201cAnd I\u2019ve got Ashlee..\u201d

\u201cWho\u2019s lying now?\u201d Patrick glowered.

\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d Pete growled.

\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t have to get so defensive if you really loved her.\u201d

Pete grunted and turned away, only because it was true.

\u201cI can\u2019t. I\u2019ve got an image,\u201d Pete sighed.

Patrick laughed. \u201cSince when have you cared about your image or your reputation or your looks or anything<\/b>, really?\u201d

Pete laughed, too. \u201cYou\u2019re right, I\u2019m dumb.\u201d

There was an awkward silence. Pete turned to face Patrick and made eye contact with him, refusing to break it. He rested his hand on Patrick\u2019s cheek.

\u201cI\u2019m sorry.<\/i>\u201d Those words again. Pete was stroking Patrick\u2019s cheek with his thumb now. Pulling Patrick closer, he placed a sweet, platonic kiss on his lips. \u201cI do, but I don\u2019t.\u201d

Patrick looked away. The small tear that fell from his eye was the only understanding between them, the only proof that Patrick knew what Pete was getting at.

\u201cCome on\u2026\u201d Pete grinned half-heartedly. \u201cSmile for me, you know I love it.\u201d

Patrick forced a smile and an apology. Pete chuckled and refused it, but comforted Patrick by saying it wasn\u2019t necessary.
***
Please put the doctor on the phone, because I\u2019m not making any sense.

Blame everyone but me for this mess.
And my back has been breaking from this heavy heart.
We never seemed so far.
I\u2019m hopelessly hopeful. You\u2019re just hopeless enough.
But we never had it all.<\/i>
***
A glance, a touch, anything actually hurt even more. Maybe it was Patrick\u2019s fault for joining the band and singing those lyrics, but he couldn\u2019t be blamed for falling in love. Or could he? They do link together, if you dig down deep enough.

Patrick glanced toward the back of the bus where Pete slept, but didn\u2019t really sleep<\/i>. Where Hemingway was on guard like a little bodyguard with fur. Where the temptations were strong and pulling, like a magnet, but still too far away to reach.

Patrick knew he could just walk over there in a matter of seconds, it would take no more than that. But no matter how physically close Pete and Patrick became, the heartbreaking, emotional distance between them increased as they came closer to touching. He wanted to, but he couldn\u2019t. He shouldn\u2019t.

But he did. And just the shuffling of his feet was enough to stir Pete from his light sleep. But Pete remained where he was, didn\u2019t turn over to face Patrick, even though he knew he stood just behind him. Didn\u2019t show any sign of being awake, or even alive<\/i>, because Pete has always kind of been dead on the inside. He could feel Patrick\u2019s eyes, the perfect, blue ones that brought sense and understanding to any irrational situation, on his back. He was watching, and it gave Pete tens of thousands of things to write about, that he\u2019d forget about by the next day.

Just as Patrick turned to leave, Pete spoke. \u201cRemember when it didn\u2019t mean anything?\u201d

\u201cWhat?\u201d Patrick froze. Pete was way too good at looking like he\u2019s asleep for an insomniac.

\u201cThe kisses? Remember when they meant nothing, just for fun?\u201d

\u201cThey always meant something, but I remember when they didn\u2019t mean as much,\u201d Patrick replied.

\u201cAnd remember when you didn\u2019t love me?\u201d Pete\u2019s questions were almost unbearable.

\u201cNo, but I remember being a 16 year old kid in an argyle sweater with a heart beating too fast to live. I remember always being in love with you, but not always feeling it.\u201d And Patrick walked away.
***
And the record won\u2019t stop skipping.
And the lies just won\u2019t stop slipping.
And besides, my reputation\u2019s on the line.
We can fake it for the airwaves.
Force our smiles, baby, half dead.
From comparing myself to everyone else around me.<\/i>
***
When Pete smiles, really smiles, not those cheap for-the-camera smiles, and not the classic Pete Wentz face, but a real smilesmilesmile<\/b><\/i>, it\u2019s beautiful. Because it lights up the room and brings happiness to any situation, big or small or even microscopic. Because it\u2019s Pete, and who can help but smile when Pete-fucking-Wentz smilesmilesmiles<\/b><\/i>?

And Patrick thought that smile, the real one, was the most amazing thing on the planet. The most wonderful thing he\u2019s seen in his 23 years of life. Because it was really the only reassurance you had with a kid like Pete. The only truth you got, because everything else could be a lie, for all Patrick knew. For all he could make sense of, that is.

And the image that Pete Wentz had created for himself was completely accidental, but he still feels the need to keep it up. Like it matters, when it doesn\u2019t, because Pete\u2019s a 28 year old kid. He doesn\u2019t care about his looks or his rep, he just wants to be himself and make music with his best friends. And he doesn\u2019t care when people publish pictures of him and his new \u201cfling\u201d in the stupid teen magazines that never seem to get their rankings right, (because Fall Out Boy so beats the Jonas Brothers) because he never really had a fling or a girlfriend or a lover. Because he\u2019s Pete-goddamned-Wentz. And he won\u2019t open up, really open up<\/i> to anyone.

The Atavan incident seemed so far away now, and it meant nothing, but something at the same time. Nothing because Pete\u2019s still alive, and he\u2019s taking over the pop punk world like a dictator\u2019s grandson (because he\u2019s the third, not the first.) But still something because Patrick (and Andy and Joe) was unable to imagine life without Wentz around, lightening the mood at the heaviest of times.

And maybe that\u2019s how Patrick had fallen for him? No. Suicide doesn\u2019t equal love, it\u2019s kinda the opposite. And he was sure that he had felt these same things before that event, but it was so hard to figure out now.

The thing that was even more confusing was why?<\/i> Why did he like Pete so much, so much that it almost hurt, but the pain was the hard-to-find good kind. And even more important than that, why doesn\u2019t Pete love him back?

Or does he? He was confusing with what he said. \u201cI do, but I don\u2019t.\u201d? Was that supposed to be him saying that he does like Patrick, but not the way Patrick likes Pete? Or perhaps he was aiming at \u201cI love you, but I\u2019m not gay?\u201d

Patrick laughed. Yeah right, he thought. You can\u2019t get any gayer than Pete Wentz.

Unless your name was Patrick Stump, and your initials spelled out a girl (and boy\u2019s) worst nightmare. Yeah, pretty gay, he\u2019d admit. PMS, and he got crap for it all the time.

Maybe an answer could be pulled out of Pete, in some way or another? Pete likes to be vague, vague enough that it makes Patrick want to die in the Patrick Stump Way. But the way to get to a Vague\u2019s heart is to be a Flat-Out, and Patrick was a Flat-Out kid who liked to be straight up with his requests, demands, and in this case: questions.

Finally, an idea! Patrick grabbed a pen, frowning at it\u2019s lack of ink and chucked it across the bus, startling Hemingway. He grabbed another one, smiling at the fullness of it and scrawled across a piece of stress-crumpled notebook paper: \u201cWhy do I love you? Why don\u2019t you love me?\u201d

He slipped it under the door to where Pete Wentz hid.
***
To everyone else around me.
Everyone else around me.
Everyone else around me.<\/i>
***
It was only a few moments before the paper came floating from under the door. The answer was written in eyeliner, not pen. And Patrick laughed, because that was just so<\/i> Pete. It was vague, vague enough to be interpreted in many different ways. But understandable, and Patrick assumed it was written in a way that only he would be able to understand, because Pete can be deep like this. And he likes to be.

It read, in thick, black make-up: \u201cGood question, \u2018Trick. Tell me when you have the answer.

And I just might, and I probably always have. But really, who owns up to that kind of thing? It\u2019s only when the desperate attempts for answers start coming in that you realize what you really want from that one kid. And what I really want is--\u201d

It stopped there. What?!<\/i> What did he want, Patrick would give anything! He\u2019d give the world, even though he didn\u2019t have the right or the power. A small, frustrated growl emitted from Patrick\u2019s throat. \u201cWhat a fag,\u201d he mumbled.

And then that laughter. The melodic noise that had always been welcome, it was Pete\u2019s, no doubt. Suddenly, the door to Pete\u2019s hideout swung open and a flash of scenepunkhardcore<\/i> flew towards Patrick. And there were lips on his, but this time it was real. Not for fun, not a joke, not for the flash of the cameras. It was the real kind of \u201cI love you\u201d kiss that only the lucky ones got. The kind where you can feel the magic before and after it, where you can breathe in the very scent of that person you love and know it right off the top of your head, even if they were wearing a mask.

And for Pete, the kind where a calloused hand tugged at the strawberry blonde hair that was ever-hidden behind a cap. And for Patrick, the kind where you know his Sharpie nail polish is probably going to stain your new jeans forever, but you really can\u2019t care, and you don\u2019t because it\u2019s not possible.

\u201cSo what is it that you wanted, Peter Pan?\u201d Patrick almost begged.

\u201cYou.\u201d<\/div>"}]}