A Dangerous Face and an Almost Illegal Taste

After an hour and a half of Brendon and Jon playing Nintendo 64, Spencer and Ryan intervened and unplugged the game system. Then a melodramatic and somewhat amusing disagreement began between Brendon and Spencer on what movie to watch. Ryan wasn’t sure who won; he was texting Gerard again. Whoever won the argument, however, had apparently picked a comedy, or so Ryan assumed from the random bursts of laughter.

You guys have been touring forever. Doesn’t your boyfriend miss you?

Gerard knew somehow. Ryan drew in a sharp breath causing his band mates to turn and look at him. “What?” he asked, smiling nervously.

“Who are you talking to?” Jon asked.

“Sh-Shalisa.” Ryan stammered. There was a collective eye roll between the other three, causing the brunette to blush. “Just . . . nobody.” he muttered, standing up and walking to his bunk. The other three stared at each other for a moment before accepting it as PMS and returning to the movie.

Ryan stared at Gerard’s text message until his phone went black. Doesn’t your boyfriend miss you? There was a logical answer other than Gerard knowing, Ryan decided. The man’s feelings were apparent, sexuality surrounded him like a cloud of smoke—or maybe that was the cigarettes. The point remained, however, that Gerard could simply be trying to feel Ryan out to see if there was any point in continuing his cat-and-mouse game. There was no reason to ‘subtly’ seduce a boy who had no interest in men.

Ryan’s finger slipped, hitting a button and causing the screen to return to Gerard’s message. He stared at it for a moment and after coming up with no response, deleted the message. How great would it be for one of the guys to go through his phone looking for a number or something and coming across that? Spencer knew underneath, but Brendon and Jon had no clue. Brendon was going to be pissed when he found out that Spencer had known longer. Ryan snickered quietly.

“Shalisa’s that amusing, huh?” Jon asked from the ‘doorway’.

Ryan turned, shoving his phone in his pocket. He hadn’t even heard the older boy come in. “You can drop it now. I’m a liar. Big deal.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “You’re such a fucking drama queen, Ry. You act like a fucking teenage girl.”

“I do not.”

“Do too!” Spencer and Brendon called from the living room.

“Whatever.” Ryan waved his hand dismissively. He felt himself wishing he and Gerard were hiding behind a building again. The air between them would be thick with complexity and sex, but at least there weren’t so many questions. Ryan knew that wasn’t the only reason, but was better at lying to himself than others.

Jon stared at his friend a moment more. “You’re pathetic, Ryan.”

The younger boy groaned, tugging the curtains on his bunk closed and burying his head under his pillow. I am pathetic. He wished it were Brendon instead of Jon. Jon was always rough in trying to get information and Spencer was too good at it. Brendon was bad at it, could never think of the right words, always felt bad if he pressed Ryan too hard.

Ryan’s thoughts drifted to Gerard again. His mind was taking him to places he didn’t want to go. Ryan wasn’t stupid enough to think that if he ignored his homosexuality that it would go away. He just hoped ignoring it would make life simpler. Nobody in the band had a problem with homosexuality. Hell, Brendon practically went down on him onstage. Nowadays, in their genre of music, homosexuality was expected, was desired. How many fans screamed when Brendon kissed Ryan’s cheek? How many girls swooned over pictures of them holding hands?

It was ridiculous to think that Ryan would pick Brendon if he ended up picking anyone. Brendon? Oh dear God, no. If he had to pick anyone in his band to fuck it would be Jon, purely for sexual reasons; Jon had more experience. Spencer would probably be clumsy and Brendon would probably be trying too hard in hopes of earning Ryan’s affections.

How would Gerard fuck?

“Oh, hell no.” Ryan said, rolling out of his bed and landing on the floor, catching his knee on the side of the bunk. “Fuck.” You are not going to think about Gerard and sex. You are not going to think about that, Ross. Go get Brendon to choke you. The brunette stormed into the living area of the bus, practically sitting on Brendon’s lap and bringing the other boy’s hands up to his neck. “Choke me.”

Brendon raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were into airplay, Ry.” His hands didn’t move.

“You’re no help.” Ryan said, flopping next to Brendon on the couch and crossing his arms.

“You’re insane.” Brendon said, taking the water bottle Jon was holding out to him.

Ryan wasn’t paying attention. He was staring at the moving scenery through the bus window. Quit thinking about him! Of course, the more Ryan tried not to think about Gerard the more he did. He continued to watch the trees they were passing, trying not to think of cigarette smoke and black hair. He thinks you’re beautiful, you know.

“Jesus Christ.” Ryan stood up and stormed off again, back to his bunk. He grabbed his iPod, putting the earphones in and turning it up as loud as it would go. He hid under his pillow again, cursing into his mattress. You’re pathetic, Ross.

* * *

“Do you think he’s all right, Spence?” Jon asked quietly. His eyes avoided Brendon, knowing the younger boy would be glaring him for having addressed Spencer specifically.

“No.” Spencer said. “But it’s Ryan. He’ll get over it soon enough.”

Brendon snorted, causing both of the other boys to look at him, annoyed. “Sleeping outside and randomly disappearing are more than not all right.” Brendon said, talking as quickly as he could before they cut him off. “And his sleeping keeps getting worse. He can only take those pills for so long before he gets addicted.” He crossed his arms, daring the other two to argue with him.

Then Spencer said something Brendon—and Jon—didn’t expect. “You’re right.”

”I can hear you.” Ryan called from his bunk. His iPod battery had been dead for fifteen minutes. “And I’m fine, morons.” You’re a fucking asshole, Ross. They’re just worried. They want to help. He wished he could just tell them.

’I’m gay and Gerard Way is trying to seduce me.’

Ryan snorted. “Fucker.” He didn’t know if he was saying it to himself, Gerard, or one of his band mates. Maybe he was saying it to Pete. If Pete hadn’t signed them then they wouldn’t be at Warped and Gerard wouldn’t be trying to get in his skinny girl pants.

Ryan climbed out of his bunk and walked toward the kitchenette. His band mates avoided looking at him as he rummaged in the cupboards. “You’re all abnormally quiet.” Ryan said. “Especially you.” He pointed a finger at Brendon, knowing he was taunting them. It was mean, but for some reason Ryan felt like being mean.

Jon called him on it after exchanging a look with Spencer. “You’re being an abnormal dick. What’s your problem?”

Ryan slammed the refrigerator door so hard it opened again. “I don’t have a fucking problem. Or I wouldn’t if you guys would just shut up and leave me alone. Do you need to know everything about me?”

“Yeah. Fuck you too, Ry.” Jon said, rolling his eyes.

There was a pause, and unlike the recent ones Ryan had experienced, this one was full of anger and not sexual tension. Instead of storming off to his bunk again, Ryan threw himself on the couch beside Brendon, practically sitting in his lap.

Spencer was clearly not happy with this, especially when Brendon put his arm around Ryan’s shoulders. He was not happy that Ryan was using Brendon’s desperation, that annoyed him to no end, to feel better about his attitude problem. He was not happy that Brendon was a sad, pathetic boy. And he was not happy that he had no idea why his best friend was acting like this.

Ryan let his head fall to Brendon’s shoulder, a small smirk playing on his lips. I’ll show you. I’ll show all of you. I can handle this; I don’t need you, any of you. It was ridiculous. Of course Ryan couldn’t take care of himself. He could barely go a day without Spencer’s hands on his shoulders.

He would be lost without the three of them, blindly stumbling through a maze of monsters. At least he knew his band mates would help him up if the monsters tripped him.

The four of them sat there like that for a few minutes, bound together in tension and anger. But, finally, Jon sighed and Spencer turned on the television. Ryan still rested his head in the crook of Brendon’s shoulder, but with the unspoken agreement to not discuss his problems, his own shoulders had relaxed every so slightly. Brendon’s fingertips traced Ryan’s shoulder blade through the thin material of a green shirt Jon had randomly bought him a week before.

Ryan thought it was unusual that Jon and Spencer had given in and up so easily. He wasn’t sure he liked it, being able to avoid the confrontation, being forced to give up the comfort that would have followed his admission. Ryan barely avoided sniffling into Brendon’s neck. The desire to tell was consuming and he knew it was going to lead to doing something stupid.

When Ryan was stupid the results were typically nothing short of disastrous.