I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

I can’t eat.

I can’t sleep.

I can hardly think.

All I can do is sit here and sulk in front of the T.V.

The only person I ever really loved and cared about wants nothing to do with me. He wont talk to me. He wont even look at me.

And it’s all my fault.

I think I’m going crazy, (says the serial killer.)

For the first time in my life, I need someone. I need to feel his touch. His kiss. If not him... I need some sort of comfort. Some sort of touch I can pretend is him at the very least. Before Brendon, I went years without any sort of affection. But now that had it, lost it, and can’t have it, my body craves it. My mental being craves it.

He’s making me insane.

I feel at war with myself as well, because I am Ryan Ross. I’m a notorious serial killer, and yet my emotions seem to think I’m some dumb, blind, stupid, love struck teenager.

If I wasn’t such a wreck, I’d be disturbed.

At some point Spencer sat down next to me.

“I talked to him.” Spencer said. “He’s still pretty upset.”

Figures.

I sniffed and nodded.

I looked up at Spencer, and realized something.

I realized that I was craving comfort, craving touch.

And it could have been the slight insanity talking, but it all made sense in my head.

Everything I was about to do that is.

I needed someone. Spencer was someone.

I leaned forward, grabbing his face and pressed my lips to his. He froze in shock, before attempting to push me away.

“Jesus mother fucking Christ.”

I broke away suddenly at the words that didn’t come from either me or Spencer, and my eyes snapped to the doorway, where a pissed, and still upset looking Brendon Urie stood.

My eyes widened and Spencer was still frozen.

He mumbled something angry and unintelligible under his breath before storming back up the stairs.

Jesus mother fucking Christ is right.

If I thought things were doomed before, well, now he thinks... Well I’m not sure. But it sure as hell isn’t good.

I jumped up onto my feet and ran after him up the stairs. By the time I reached the top, the bedroom door had already slammed shut.

I ran to it anyway and began banging on the door desperately.

“Brendon!” I shouted. “Brendon please let me explain!”

Explain what? I’m fucked.

“I don’t want to hear any of your god damn excuses!” He shouted back from the other side of the door. I swear I heard his voice crack a few times.

“Brendon please let me in!”

The door opened a crack, revealing his tear streaked face.

“Why? So you can give me some lame excuses and try and patch things up so we can go back to the most fucked up dysfunctional relationship that ever existed? You want to kiss and make up so that you can go back to bossing me around and not giving a fuck about my feelings? You want to-”

He was cut off when I pushed the door with all my strength, forcing my way into the room.

I closed the door behind me and tried to walk towards him, but the glare he gave me slowed me a little. His eyes were not only harsh and spiteful, but hurt and confused. The room was dark, and the only light coming in was from the unusually bright full moon hanging outside the window. It gave everything a bluish tint, including the visible parts of Brendon’s face. It was just light enough for me to see and read his face; just enough to see the damage I’ve caused.

“Brendon-”

“Get out.” He ordered.

“But I-”

“Get. The Fuck. Out.” He nearly growled.

I walked closer to him, shaking my head.

“Brendon... I can’t. You don’t understand how fucking messed up I am with out you-”

“Will you stop sounding like a mother fucking soap opera, and get the fuck out of my room?” he spat angrily. “I don’t care.”

“No!” I shouted loudly, stomping my foot, and getting his attention. “No, I won’t fucking leave, and I know that you really do care. I’m not going anywhere until I tell you that I love you and that I’m sorry I’m such a fucking asshole. Brendon, you are all I have left. You’re the only thing I care about. These last few days of you not talking to me have driven me to near insanity. I need you. I’m sorry for everything. And I’ll do anything you ask if you just please take me back.” I pleaded. There was a long silence, I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes. I tried to push them back.

“The funny thing is, that speech would have worked about two hours ago.” He muttered grimly. “And I was all ready to waltz down there and admit my mistakes and fix it all, but then I walked in on you fucking Spencer and realized there was no point.”

“I wasn’t fucking Spencer!” I demanded, appalled. “What you saw... that was just me taking advantage of him because I was crazy. I told you, I was going crazy at the thought of losing you. I just needed... some sort of comfort. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t. It just happened. You have to believe me, I would never cheat on you-”

“Oh really? Because this is twice now.” He spat. “I know you’re a mother fucking murderer, and that we shouldn’t have a normal relationship, but you can’t go around kissing other people like that. Especially Spencer. Even if it didn’t mean anything, you still did it. You did it for no reason other then to hurt me. And if you just want to hurt me then I don’t want to love you.” he explained. The tears began to pour down my face at his words.

“Brendon, do you hear yourself? Okay, the first time was stupid. I was mad, you were mad. I was being stupid and immature. And the second time, I had no intention of hurting you, Brendon I love you, and I wish I could take everything back.” I was crying, stupidly. My voice was cracking and breaking. The last time I cried was the night I killed my fucking father. This is stupid. I shouldn't be crying. His expression didn’t change.

“I’m sorry Ryan, but I can’t do this anymore.” he mumbled.

Forgetting all resistance I had intended apply, I sank to my knees, groveling at the words. “Brendon please.” I pleaded through a sob. “B-Brendon, y-you’re all I have. I’m all you have. I can’t live without you. I really can’t. Please. You have to take me back. I- I love you so fucking much. And you have no idea how fucking sorry I am. How much I regret everything. P-Please, Brendon. Please, I need you. Please. I’m desperate.” I was begging, pleading, sobbing and desperate. If this was anyone else, under any other circumstances, I would probably be disgusted and amused at the words and sad desperation being portrayed. In fact I’d probably kill both of them. I’m supposedly a heartless murderer. This isn’t me. Or at least it shouldn’t be. What has this boy, this man, done to me? He’s changed me, or changed part of me at least, and I don’t know if it’s for the better. I don’t even know what the better is at this point, nor do I care. I just want him. More than anything. I can’t live without him. I can’t. I don’t care what it takes, I wont live with out him god damn it. I had only hoped he felt the same.

“Ryan stop it.” He said. “Get up.”

“Please, Brendon, please take me back. I can’t live without you.” I choked through a sob.

...The fuck...? Now I'm sobbing?

Suddenly I felt him grab a hold of my arm and yank me up off the ground.

“Ryan, what are you doing? This isn’t you at all. What the fuck has gotten into you?” He asked sounding genuinely confused.

“You have.” I answered at the risk of sounding cheesy and cliche. “I promise I won’t ever hurt you or mistreat you again.” I said looking into his eyes the best I could. “I love you. I can’t live without you. I thought you felt the same.”

He didn’t respond. He only stared at me. The war, confusion, indecision, and sorrow showing themselves in his eyes.

His grip was still tight on my arm.

“Brendon, please. You said you loved me.” I nearly whispered.

More tears ran down his face.

Finally he closed his eyes, breaking the gaze.

“I do.” he whispered. “But I don’t want to get hurt again.” he spoke a little louder, but just as broken.

“I promise I wont ever hurt you ever again.” I said, bringing my hand up to caress his face.

His gaze met mine again, and he surged forward, pressing our lips together. I kissed back desperately, grabbing a hold of his face, noticing the wetness of it from all the tears.

“I love you.” I whispered once he pulled away.

“I love you too, but you can’t... I can’t...”

“Yes we can. Brendon, you’re just being stubborn. I won’t hurt you again. I promise. Now kiss me, please kiss me again.” I whispered again, pulling him closer. He looked into my eyes with a reluctant, and somewhat desperate look in his eye.

He then pulled me forward even closer and reattached our lips, more aggressive this time. I kissed back desperately. We ended up falling backwards, myself on top of him, onto the bed. I reached and touched for every inch of him, wishing I could touch everywhere at once. God, I missed this so fucking much. His hands seemed to do the same as mine. Then my shirt suddenly disappeared, and the soft skin of his hands traced along the planes of my chest and my back, suddenly settling on my hips.

I pulled off his shirt, planting kisses along his jaw, then down his neck and shoulder. When I pulled back to take in his face, his gaze was fixed on mine, a combination of desperation and heartbreak.

It nearly killed me to see it, so I leaned down and pressed my lips to his once more, passionate and just as desperate, hoping that all my regret and remorse was made apparent.

He kissed back, bringing his hands up to cup my face.

"I'm sorry too." He whispered into the kiss.

I pulled away. "You have no reason to be." I stated, my expression serious.

"I was a dick too. We both were. We're both at fault." He mumbled, running his thumb across my cheek. I bent down to kiss him again, and he kissed back, this time rolling over, switching positions, him being on top.

He continued to kiss me, his hand moving down rub me outside of my jeans. I kissed him back, my hands moving to his face.

He undid the button on my pants, pushing them down to my knees.

"I love you." he whispered.

"I love you too." I whispered back.

He kissed me once more, before wrapping his hand around my cock and working it into an erection.

"I missed you too you know." Brendon mumbled. "We're both such stubborn bastards."

I forced a laugh through the deep breaths. I was a little to preoccupied with Brendon's hand to think up a proper response.

I reached for the button on his pants, undoing it, and pushing them down as far as I could.

Brendon sat up, removing them completely, before repositioning himself so that he was straddling my hips. He reattached his lips to mine once more, while reaching for the drawer of the side table where he pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom.

He handed me the lube while he opened the package --With his teeth nonetheless. He rolled it onto my cock as I squirted a small amount of lubricant onto my hand.

Once he finished, I sat up, and he gave me one more kiss before moving onto his hands and knees.

I moved behind him, coating my fingers in lubricant before sliding one into his entrance, moving it in and out, he let out a slight whimper. I added another finger, repositioning my fingers at a slight angle. When I did so, he let out a breathy moan.

"F-Faster." He begged.

I obeyed, moving my hand at a quicker pace and sliding in another finger, causing his to moan once more.

"Oh fuck. R-Ryan. I w-want you. n-now." He said, followed by another moan.

I nodded, though he couldn't see me, and pulled my hand out, applying the rest of the lube to my cock. I grabbed his hips and pushed in slowly. He made hissing sounds in response.

"God," I breathed. "You're so fucking tight." It came out as more of a grumble.

Within three tries I managed to hit his prostate, dead on. He let out an extremely loud, slutty moan.

Guess we won't have to explain to Spencer that we made up.

I began moving faster and my breathing picked up.

"Oh god, Brendon." I moaned.

He was panting.

I reached down, attempting to stroke his cock in rhythm with my thrusts, but it quickly became sloppy.

"R-Ryan," he moaned again, loudly.

"Keep saying my name like that and I'll come quicker then you'd hoped." I stated, thrusting faster.

"God, Ryan, do you realize--" he was cut off by another, quiter moan. "Do you realize that this is the first time we've done this?" He asked, it being very breathy. "I d-didn't realize you were so g-good in bed."

I laughed slightly, mostly forced.

"Oh god." He moaned again through his pants.

"I'm- I'm gonna come." I breathed. I'm not sure he heard me, because he was being very vocal.

I began moving faster, and coming while moaning his name.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." He panted.

"Jesus christ." I said as I finished, out of breath.

I pulled out slowly, and let out a sigh. Without saying another word, I flipped him over onto his back, and attached my lips to his before kissing down his jaw line, and his neck, then down his chest and belly. Then without much warning, I took the length of his cock in my mouth, slightly proud of myself for not gagging.

"Oh god," he moaned throwing his head back.

I bobbed my head up and down, causing a string of profanities to fall from his mouth.

Not much time had passed before he was coming,--without warning--it shooting down my throat.

I swallowed, cleared my throat, then sat up.

Brendon exhaled. "Wow. Sorry. You're so fucking good at that though."

I smiled and climbed up on top of him, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"It's okay. I was an asshole to you. You can come in my mouth whenever you want."

Brendon laughed. "Quite the romantic we are."

I smiled and kissed him again.

"I'm sleepy, I can sleep in here tonight right?" I asked. He smiled.

"I suppose I'd rather have you in here then with Spencer." He teased. I however, didn't find it funny.

"Brendon-"

"I'm kidding, come here." He said, pulling me down in his arms. "I love you."

"I love you too. And for the record, I never cried."

Brendon laughed.

"Eye-eye captain."