Leviticus 20:13

The day after his confession Brendon brought a Bible to school. Ryan found him in the morning, sitting against his locker and reading it, finger following the words on the page, lips silently mouthing the words. Ryan nudged the younger boy with his shoe. “You okay?”

Brendon held up a finger, read for another paragraph or so, then marked his page with a bookmark. He looked up at Ryan. “I’m fine.” His eyes were too bright, his smile was small and distant.

“. . . ‘kay.” Ryan said, clearly not believing him.

Spencer appeared next to Ryan, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “What are you guys talking about?” He looked down at Brendon. “Dude, you’re reading the Bible?” He raised an eyebrow.

Brendon blushed.

Ryan stepped on Spencer’s foot. “Be nice.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Are we still doing practice at my house tonight?”

“Yeah.” Brendon said. “I have to be home by five though.”

“Why?” Ryan asked suspiciously.

“I just . . . do.” Brendon said, somewhat lamely.

“Bullshit.” Ryan snapped.

“Did I miss something?” Spencer asked, confused. His eyes darted back and forth between his two friends.

Ryan yanked Brendon to his feet. “You, come with me now. Spencer, go to class.”

Spencer looked like there was nothing he would rather do and he spun on his heel and walked away, leaving Ryan and Brendon alone in a crowded hallway. The older boy dragged the other through the sea of teenagers, down the stairs, and to the corridor deserted due to remodeling.

“You’re doing that bullshit counseling stuff again, aren’t you?” Ryan asked, shoving Brendon against their wall and bringing his hands down on either side of his face. Their bodies were uncomfortably close together, chest to chest and legs pressing against the other.

“I . . . need to learn how to r-resist . . .” Brendon licked his lips nervously. “Resist temptation.”

“What temptation?” Ryan snapped. “You don’t even have a fucking boyfriend.”

“I want one.” Brendon breathed. “That’s wrong. I’m not strong enough to do this on my—“

“There’s nothing wrong with it!” Ryan’s voice was too loud; it hurt Brendon’s ears. “Look, if we all sin why the fuck is this one so bad?”

“Because I’m not repenting.” The younger boy’s voice was higher than normal. “We all sin, but we need to—“

Ryan pressed his lips hard against Brendon’s more to prove a point than anything else. He had every intention of immediately pulling away and barking out a ‘fucking pray about that’, but he didn’t expect Brendon’s soft mouth to respond. The younger boy’s lips were gentle against his, scared. It couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds before Ryan pulled away, frowning when he saw Brendon’s wet cheeks.

“So that was a sin then?” he asked shortly.

“Yes.” Brendon breathed. “Do it again.”

They must have been there for nearly fifteen minutes, ignoring the bell when it sounded. Brendon’s hands were on Ryan’s back and Ryan’s fingers were threaded through Brendon’s hair. There was no sound other than the fervent kisses and labored breathing.

“L-Let’s stop. For a bit.” Brendon said, breaking the kiss. He looked scared rather than guilty and that was the only reason Ryan let his hands fall, brushing his lips against Brendon’s cheek.

“Let’s sit down, Bren.” Ryan said. “We should talk.”

“About?”

“Everything.”

Brendon nodded, following the older boy further down the hallway. Ryan sat down, pulling Brendon with him and threading their fingers together. “I’m the reason you couldn’t pretend you weren’t gay anymore.” he said. It wasn’t a question. Brendon was transparent and Ryan was intelligent. Ryan liked it; Brendon didn’t.

Brendon gave a small nod of his head, staring at his fingers laced with Ryan’s. “I tried to pretend.” he murmured.

“Well, I’m glad you couldn’t.” Ryan said, bringing his other hand over to stroke Brendon’s hair. “You’re a really good kisser.” He laughed when the younger boy blushed. He turned and moved until he was practically sitting in Brendon’s lap. “And you’re gorgeous . . .” He planted a kiss to the other boy’s neck. “. . . and cute when you’re insane—“ Another kiss. “—which is a lot. And you have a cute laugh.” This time the kiss was to Brendon’s mouth.

“Shut up, Ryan.” Brendon said before bringing their lips together.

Ryan knew it wouldn’t last. When the bell rang to dismiss first period he got up, holding his hands out to Brendon to help him up. The younger boy wouldn’t take them. When Ryan’s lips brushed his cheek before he left for Advanced Chemistry, Brendon flinched. And when Ryan tried to hold his hand at lunch, Brendon went to the bathroom and cried.

“Dude,” Spencer said after Brendon had left, “what the fuck is going on?”

Ryan turned toward him. “If you say anything to Brendon I’ll kill you.” Something in his voice made Spencer believe him. When the younger boy nodded, Ryan continued. “Bren’s gay.”

There was a pause. “And you’re . . . dating him?” Spencer’s expression and tone were both unreadable.

“I . . .” Ryan shrugged. “He thinks it’s a sin. But we kissed and stuff, yeah.”

“And stuff?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

Ryan shoved him. “Not that. If Brendon thinks being gay is a sin do you really think he’d let me touch his cock?”

Spencer shrugged. “Religion’s stupid.”

“It’s only stupid when it makes you act like Brendon.” Ryan said. “His parents made him pray to be straight. Yesterday when he told me, he started praying for . . . fuck if I know.” The older boy propped his elbows up on the table and rested his chin in his hands, giving a small smile when Brendon sat down across from him and Spencer. “Better?”

Brendon nodded. “Yeah.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “You guys are fucking idiots.” With that, he stood up and left.

Brendon looked at Ryan curiously, but he just shrugged. “You ‘kay?”

Now it was Brendon’s turn to shrug. “I don’t think I want to practice tonight.” he said, voice distant. He traced his fingers over the letters on the textbook in front of him.

“Don’t do the counseling stuff, Bren.” Ryan said, voice pleading. “It’s only going to make you feel worse. Besides, the Bible only talks about gay sex. We’re not having sex.” He reached out and put his hand over Brendon’s. “Give me a week, okay? Give me a week to convince you.”

Brendon stared at him. “It’s religion, Ry. You can’t just pick what parts you like.”

“I like you.” Ryan said quietly.

“I like you, too.” Brendon murmured. “But it’s not easy.”

“Let me make it easier then.”

Brendon gave a small, almost forced smile. “You can try.”

* * *

Brendon went to Ryan’s after school. Ryan told Spencer they would practice the next day and he called Jon in the car to tell him the same thing. Brendon held his Bible on the way to Ryan’s house but kept it closed, along with his mouth. He didn’t say a word, bit his lip when Ryan grabbed his hand.

Ryan lead Brendon to the kitchen when they got inside. “I’m starving.” He was rifling through cupboards. “What do you want? Oh, there’s Sprite in the fridge.”

“You hate Sprite.”

“Mom picked it up for you.” Ryan said, pulling a box of crackers from a shelf and opening it. “She felt bad that all we had was Coke.”

“That’s . . .”

“A mom thing, yeah.” Ryan laughed. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

They sat on his bed and watched Return of the Jedi. Their legs were pressed together, but Ryan didn’t hold Brendon’s hand. For a moment, they were almost like they used to be. Before Ryan knew Brendon was gay, before the kisses, before the prayers.

Almost.

Because once the credits started rolling Ryan turned to realize Brendon was staring at him. His face blushed scarlet when Ryan looked at him. “Hi.” Brendon gave small, forced laugh.

“Hi.” Ryan said back, voice soft. Brendon opened his mouth to say something else, but the other boy cut him off with a kiss, taking advantage of Brendon’s parted lips to slide his tongue past them.

The younger boy gave a small, breathy moan before kissing back. After a few moments, he brought his hand to Ryan’s chest, however, the front door opened before he could push him back. They separated hastily. The older boy got up to take the movie out of the DVD player. “Hi, Mrs. Ross.” he heard Brendon say from the bed.

“Hi, Mom.” Ryan said without turning around. “What do you want to watch, Bren?”

The younger boy shrugged before realizing Ryan couldn’t see him. “I don’t care.”

“There’s pizza in the freezer.” Ryan’s mother said from the doorway. “Make sure you get your homework done. And what have I told you about having food in your room, Ryan?”

The senior rolled his eyes. “Something along the lines of ‘no food in your room’, I think. You’re going to give me an eating disorder, Mom.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” she said, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

“’Don’t be a smartass.’” Ryan said, mimicking her in falsetto. He put Edward Scissorhands in the player, knowing Brendon liked that movie. “This good?” he asked, holding up the case.

He grinned when Brendon smiled.

About fifteen minutes into the movie, Ryan snaked his arm around Brendon’s waist. And about five minutes later, Brendon leaned into the touch.

* * *

That night, Brendon lay on his bed and opened his Bible. Ignoring his bookmark, he skipped to the New Testament.

And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter halt into life, than having two feet to be cast into hell, in the fire that never shall be quenched . . .

Brendon bit his lip, trying not cry. What was he willing to sacrifice for Ryan? And was he willing to sacrifice Ryan for the church? It was a sin to think such things, to think that Ryan could be more important than faith.

He knelt on the floor beside his bed, folded his hands, and prayed for forgiveness. Then he crawled into bed and dreamed of Ryan.