You Can Only Hold A Grudge For So Long

Thanksgiving day was a good time before my family dispersed and now I am stuck spending it with Brendon Urie and his 80 billion siblings. Crazy Mormons. I pouted in the car on the way there, with no success in my father suddenly caring that I was pissed and letting me go to Jac's. Nope. I hadn't thought of talking to Brendon to clear the air since we decided not to speak. Now I have no choice and frankly, I'm not too excited. I don't know what I will say to him. How he will feel when he sees me, or how I will feel when I see him. Will my old feelings of confusion and strange attraction come back? Deadly attraction is more like it. There was no time left to think, no time to prepare. Here I was, on his driveway which was so familiar, wearing jeans and a polo, trying to look formal and failing. I tried to make it seem like I didn't care, though I know I do. My father rang the doorbell and took a step back. I cringed to try not to turn around and run. He didn't answer the door thankfully, it was one of his younger siblings of whom I don't know the name of. Sad, but the Urie's have a lot of children. "Mommy! There are two guys at the door!" The child yelled and turned around and ran.
"Hello George" Mrs. Urie smiled opening the door then stepping aside to let us in. "Oh Ryan, you've grown so tall, and handsome," She said her smile not dropping in the least.
"Thanks," I said dully taking off my shoes as I remember the house always being clean.
"Brendon is upstairs, it seems like forever since you two have been together. Go on up" She said taking my dads coat and my hoodie. I was preparing to politely refuse, and my dad noticed and gave me the evil parent glare. I sighed deeply and dramatically and went as slow as I could up the stairs, on the way I stepped on: a rubber duck, a Lego which hurt like hell, a retainer that I broke, and almost a turtle. Yes, a live turtle. Thankfully that one I missed. I turned to see the hallway full of doors, the third on the left is his. I've spent so much time in this house, in that room. I stalled again to move the turtle to a spot where he wouldn't be crushed, then walked slowly and quietly to his room. I heard him singing, softly like he was doing something else.
"This town just wasn't made for two, but when the streets they call my name what can I do?"
I remember that song, he sang it all the time. It seemed like it was only when we were together, though I could be wrong. It took every ounce of courage in my body to appear in the doorway, so he could see me. "Hi," I sighed leaning against the door frame. He turned around and that feeling I knew I would get, the one I tried to resist hit me like a boxer with turrets. It was a feeling of sadness, confusion, regret, pain, lust, loss, and once again confusion.
"Hey," He said having the same dumbfounded expression I probably do.
"Long time no see," I said.
"Yea, sorta liked it that way" He said continuing to fold his clothes and laying them on the bed.
"The feelings mutual,"
"Ok, look, let's just get through tonight and we can go back to our lives," He said turning fully around to look me in the eyes. Oh those eyes. They were always something that stuck in my mind well after we had parted. Deep, deep brown.
"Good idea,"
***
"Ryan, go help Brendon" My father said. I instantly wanted to punch him in the face.
"I don't need any help," Brendon said to him.
"Sure you do sweetie!" Mrs. Urie said.
"Fine," He grumbled almost stomping like a little kid to the kitchen.
"Just sit there and don't talk" He said sloppily gesturing to the counter then taking a turkey that was as big as him out of the oven.
"Need help?" I asked.
"No, now shut up please," He almost fell plently of times trying to get it on the counter, finally he got it, then turned around to put something else in the oven. I felt a great urge to kick the big ass turkey off the counter and see just how many he would get.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"I always have done this, feet off!" He exclaimed. I smirked and picked up my feet, letting them sloppily fall to be dangling off the counter.
"Why is that, Mommy?" I asked putting my feet back up.
"Maybe I like to be important in family gatherings?" He said putting big emphasis on the word, family.
"Oh," I said quietly, running out of comebacks. He turned around and grabbed a pie from the oven rack,
"Ass off counter!" He exclaimed sliding his hands out of pink oven mits.
"Pass"
"Seriously, off!" He exclaimed throwing an individually cut square of butter at me.
"What the fuck!" I yelled throwing it back at him.
"Get down then!"
"Maybe I don't wanna!" I smirked grabbing a fist-full of mashed potatoes and flinging them at him.
"Oh hell no!" He yelled turning the salad bowl over on me. Then a war began, the room was slowly covered in the Thanksgiving spirit. The only food left intacted was the twenty pound turkey. I grabbed on half of it and he grabbed the other.
"Don't you dare!" He yelled.
"Fine!" I exclaimed letting it go. The weight overcame him and the bird flew for its final time smashing through the oven door, and allas starting it on fire.
"What is going on in here?!" Mrs. Urie yelled then practically fainted when she saw. Mr. Urie got the fire extinguisher from under the sink and put out the stove fire.
"George Ryan Ross! Your going to pay for that!" Dad yelled.
"It wasn't just me!" I defended pushing Brendon, he pushed back.
"Oh don't worry Ryan, Brendon will be doing his far share of work," Mr. Urie said after successfully doucing the flames.
"What?! It was all his fault!" Brendon objected glaring at me.
"Oh no! Brendon killed Thanksgiving!" One of the little ones said then burst out crying. Brendon hit his head to hands.
"Either way you both are going to work together to pay for the stove," Mrs. Urie said. The word together was the only word I heard, it stung almost. It then occured to me I was going to be seeing Brendon Urie way too much for my liking.