Kitten

The first thing Brendon was aware of was the feeling of Ryan’s slender body below his. Eyes fluttering open, the younger boy couldn’t help but smile despite his splitting headache because he simply loved being near Ryan.

“Kitten,” he said affectionately and kissed the other boy on the tip of nose.

Ryan’s eyes flew open and stared at Brendon with an empty gaze, tinged slightly with horror and fear.

“Good morning,” Brendon said with a bright smile, not noticing the look in Ryan’s eyes. “How are you today?”

Swallowing a whimper, Ryan shrugged and wriggled out from underneath the other boy.

“You’re so cute when you’re being stubborn,” Brendon said with a laugh and followed Ryan out of the bedroom. “Are you going to make pancakes again?” he asked excitedly.

Ryan shook his head and dodged away when Brendon tried to touch his arm.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?”

Blinking furiously, Ryan ran around the counter to grab a piece of a scratch paper and a pen, scrawling messy words across the page, holding it up for Brendon to read—

My eyes are hollow like my soul.

“What?” Brendon asked, taking a cautious step towards Ryan. “Kitten, what are you talking about?”

You were supposed to be the nice one, Ryan wrote, letting the page flutter to the floor and running off to lock himself in the bathroom.

“Wha—? Kitten!”

Brendon stood outside the bathroom, knocking gently on the door. “Hey, Kitten,” he murmured softly. “What’s wrong?”

But he could hear only small whimpers coming from the other side.

“I was drunk last night, Kitten, I can’t remember anything that happened,” Brendon said. “Tell me what I did.”

Then a strangled scream of rage and a kick to the door.

“Ryan!” Brendon cried out, using the other’s real name in a moment of pure desperation. “I … I’m sorry. I want … to make it better. But I can’t, if you don’t tell me what I did.”

The door swung open to reveal Ryan standing there with puffy eyes and tears on his cheeks. Brendon managed a weak smile and opened his mouth to say something when Ryan shoved past him and snatched up the piece of paper.

Will you drive me to the theatre? he wrote, and Brendon nodded slowly.

The ride was silent, uncomfortable, miserable, but luckily they didn’t live too far away so the ride was also fairly short.

“I’m sorry,” Brendon whisper as Ryan got out of the car. The other boy merely shot him an angry look and slammed the door.

An unhappy noise rumbled in the back of Brendon’s throat as he drove away. “You idiot,” he hissed at himself. “You fucking idiot. Why did you think that drinking was a good idea?”

There were tears in his eyes when he pulled up outside of their apartment building. “Oh, Kitten,” he cried, resting his head on the steering wheel. “I think I love you.”