Can I Keep You in My Sights?
must be the clouds in my eyes.
"Hi." Ryan said to the other boy in the sandbox. His voice was bright, a little over-excited.
"Hi," the other boy said, looking up, a little to Ryan's right. He was wearing Spiderman sunglasses. "I'm Brendon."
"Are you building a sand castle?" Ryan asked, climbing in.
"Trying to. Want to help?"
It took three more trips to the park before it was ever brought up that Brendon was blind. "So you can't see me?" Ryan asked, curiosity thick in his voice. "At all?"
Brendon wiggled his fingers. "Just with my hands." He smiled. "Can I?"
Ryan let him.
---
"Hi," Ryan said breathlessly sinking onto the couch next to his best friend. He smelled like salt and tongues and Brendon made a face at it.
"Hey." he echoed, somewhat distantly.
Ryan didn't notice. He never did when his head was still spinning from the cologne of whatever boy he'd gone upstairs with. "You ready to get out of here?"
Brendon lifted a hand, reaching out. His finger touched the sweat on Ryan's cheek and he rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. The boy's hair was, predictably, messed up and at odd angles, but Brendon was just annoyed enough to not say anything. "Yeah, let's go." It really didn't matter if he wanted to leave. Ryan did and, as he would point out if Brendon objected, he had the keys.
Life had sure changed since sandboxes.
---
"Brendon, you better be down here in three minutes!" Grace Urie yelled up the stairs at her son. "Ryan's here to drive you." She turned to look at her son's best friend in his Catholic school uniform. "Did you eat breakfast, sweetie?"
"I'm fine, Mrs. Urie." he said, smiling. "Thank you."
Brendon came down the stairs then, tripping over the last one and falling into Ryan, who managed to catch him. "'Morning." Brendon said brightly. "Is my bag still on the floor or did Mom move it?"
"Already in my car." Ryan informed him. "Cane by the door."
"I'm going with Ryan to pick up his check and then we're going to Briana's, okay? Home by curfew." Brendon informed his mother as he walked toward the door.
"Are you staying over, Ryan?" Grace asked, watching the pair of them.
"If that's okay," the teenager replied, knowing it would be.
---
"New boy." Monroe whispered in Brendon's ear when he and Ryan came into Hot Topic to pick up his check. "Super cute. Want to see?"
Brendon grinned wickedly. "Well, duh." The girl lead him to the back of the store, like an overexcited child. Her name wasn't really Monroe; it was Marilyn. She'd adopted the nickname when she was thirteen.
"Hey, Alex, this is Brendon. He's in here all the time."
"Monroe," Ryan hollered from the counter, "come give me my friggin' check."
"Hey, Alex." Brendon smiled as he heard Monroe walk off, swearing not so subtly under her breath.
"Hey, you're friends with Ryan, right?" Alex asked, setting down the stack of shirts he was holding.
Brendon nodded. "Can I touch your face?" he asked, not sounding the least bit embarrassed. "It's how blind people say hello."
Alex laughed and Brendon was hopeful that he recognized it as a come on. Even more so when Alex took Brendon's hands to put them on his face. "You play guitar," the teenager cried excitedly, recognizing the same fingertips that he and Ryan both possessed. He could feel the slight confusion on Alex's features. "Calluses," Brendon explained, letting his fingertips trace Alex's cheekbones, lips, jawline, the curve of his nose, eyelashes. And, finally, his hair. Brendon laughed. "You use more hair shit than Ryan."
"God, you're sweet." the aforementioned boy said from behind Brendon.
He dropped his hands, blushing slightly. "So there's a party tonight." Brendon told Alex. "Monroe can tell you how to get to Briana's."
"Maybe." Alex grinned, Brendon could hear it in his voice. "You going to be there, Ry?"
"No," he returned dryly. "Brendon's driving himself home."
And the younger boy turned, walking away and putting his sunglasses on as he did so that no one would see his eyes beginning to grow wet. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he and Ryan walked out to the car a few minutes later.
Ryan decided they should drive through Dairy Queen. "What's wrong with you?" he asked as they pulled up to the drive-thru.
Brendon didn't answer, just rested his forehead against the window. He squeezed his eyes shut. Even with his sunglasses it was too bright; his eyes hurt.
"So are you just going to ignore me?" Ryan asked. When there was no answer, he huffed angrily. "Alex is a whore," he said, voice very matter-of-fact. "He sleeps with anything that moves."
"So are you saying that not even a whore would sleep with me?" Brendon snapped angrily, turning his face in Ryan's direction.
"No," his best friend replied calmly. "I'm saying that you're too good to sleep with him."
"Well, I've never slept with anyone," he returned with a bite, "and I sure as hell don't plan on losing it to some random hot guy, so shut your fucking mouth." He blinked furiously, but to no avail. The tears slid down his cheeks, hot on his skin.
"Brendon . . ." Ryan began, sighing and checking his mirrors before pulling out of the drive-thru line and into an empty parking space. "Look, it's no big deal. Someone's going to want to--"
"Jesus." The blind boy's voice was loud and cutting. "It's not that."
"Then what?"
"You fucking humiliated me! You made me feel like such an invalid. Like I can't fucking do anything without you." Ryan froze for a moment. Brendon couldn't see his expression, but after a moment of silence, he brought his hand up to Ryan's face to feel it. "You didn't mean to," he said simply, his hand falling with a heavy sigh. "Well, that's something at least."
"I wasn't thinking." Ryan mumbled. "I'm sorry. I was jealous."
"Of me?" Brendon asked incredulously. He may have only talked to Alex for a minute but he could still tell the boy wasn't Ryan's type.
"O-Of you. Yeah." Ryan stumbled over his words a little.
"You like Alex?"
"No!" Ryan made a face. "Just that, y'know, you had a hot guy hitting on you."
"Oh." Brendon pondered for a moment and then waved his hand idly. "Okay, well, let's go to DQ then."
Ryan laughed. "We're in the parking lot, B."
---
The party at Briana's was no different than usual except that Alex showed up. He plopped down on the couch next to Brendon who was inhaling from a bong at that moment. After it had been passed, Alex took Brendon's hand and gently put it on his face. "Remember me?"
Brendon blushed slightly and let his hand fall. "Hey, Alex," he murmured softly. There was already a slight blush to his cheeks (as always) from the pot, but it became slightly more pronounced when Brendon's hand fell from Alex's face.
"Where's Ryan?" the boy asked.
"He went off to make out with some . . . one." Brendon said lamely, realizing almost entirely too late that Alex may not know Ryan's sexual orientation. Well, hasn't been told. Brendon mused with a silent laugh.
"And you?"
"And me what?" Brendon asked, slightly confused.
"Did you go off to make out with someone yet?" Alex purred in the boy's ear. Brendon could feel the breath on his skin, leaving a small trail of moisture.
"Clearly not." he returned, lips curling in a small smile.
"Do you want to?" This time, Alex's lips were tickling Brendon's neck with the question.
"Okay." His voice cracked. Brendon had never kissed a boy except once during a drunk game of Truth or Dare where he'd been made to kiss Ryan. And he had let Ryan take the reins on that. There hadn't even been tongue.
Alex pulled Brendon up by his hands. "Can I lead you?" he asked and Brendon was actually touched by the question and not just the assumption considering how inconsiderate Ryan had made the boy sound in the car.
He nodded. "Warn me for stairs."
"No stairs." Alex told him. "We're going to my car."
Brendon's fingers twitched. "But we're not going anywhere?" he asked tentatively.
"No."
They made their way outside and Alex helped Brendon in and to lay down without cracking his head against the window. Ryan's voice sounded in Brendon's head. 'He sleeps with anything that moves.'
Brendon took a steadying breath. But we're just kissing, he retorted mentally. Same as you. Nothing wrong with that.
---
The first five minutes of the car ride back to Brendon's house were thick with an unbearable, sticky silence. Then Ryan's voice exploded without warning. "I fucking warned you about him!" he roared. "How could you be so fucking stupid?"
Brendon normally would have screamed back but he was already crying. "I didn't mean . . .t-to. I thought . . . I thought we were just going to k-k-kiss . . ."
"You never just kiss." Ryan hissed, almost pissed at the naivety.
Now Brendon yelled through his tears. "Well, you never fucking told me that." He wiped at his cheeks furiously. "You always told me 'we're just going to make out', not 'I'm going to suck so-and-so's cock'."
Ryan sighed heavily, his jaw so taut it ached. Brendon had him on that one. It wasn't that his best friend was stupid, just that he hadn't had much experience with the pattern of how things really worked. "Are you okay?" Ryan asked in a much softer voice. "Was he an asshole about it?"
Brendon shook his head miserably. "He was really nice. I wish he'd been mean."
"I'm sorry I yelled," Ryan mumbled a moment later. "I just . . if anything happens, I feel like it's my fault."
"It's not." Brendon assured him. "Just don't let Mom find out."
Ryan nodded even though his best friend couldn't see it.
---
When Ryan went back to work Sunday he told Monroe what had happend with Alex and Brendon. Three days later, with everyone in the store watching him like a hawk, she finally found an excuse to fire him. The next day, she hired a college freshman named Will and she and Ryan spent the better part of the day debating whether he was gay or straight.
"Anyone I know?" Brendon asked from the front of the store where his fingers were running along different belts.
"New guy." Monroe called from the register.
Brendon arrived at the counter a beat later and removed his sunglasses. "New guy?" he asked Monroe. "But didn't you just hire Alex?"
"Just fired, more like."
Brendon's face instantly grew suspicious. "Why?"
"He stole store property." The manager didn't bother to add that the 'store property' was, in fact, just a pen that nearly every employee accidentally purloined on a regular basis. She didn't need to though. Brendon knew the real reason she'd fired Alex.
"You didn't have to do that." Brendon said softly, always amazed at how people could be so protective and, yet, not at all patronizing.
"Well, it was him or Ryan." Monroe pointed out. "And Ryan was a pretty tempting choice, but then you wouldn't come in as--Hey!" she cried as Ryan tossed a Green Day shirt at her head.
Brendon laughed, imagining what had happened.
---
It was clear that after two months William was Ryan's first serious boyfriend. Serious, here meaning last over a week, Ryan waiting a month to put out, and Will sticking around after Ryan did put out. And while Brendon and Ryan still hung out and the three of them went to a movie or something once a week, the stretches of time without Ryan were getting to the boy.
So he started hanging out with Jack. Ryan didn't like Jack at all, so Brendon had mostly talked to him on the computer or via text message. Jack was Brendon's age. He'd volunteered at Brendon's school after hours for extra credit in some class. They'd met at one of Brendon's solo lessons for choir. Jack had been dismissed when he got caught kissing a senior boy in the locker rooms.
"You know how nice it is to be with someone who can't see you?" Jack asked Brendon as he drove him home. His voice sounded a little too happy, like blindness was a kink or something. And then, a second later, Brendon could tell he was on the verge of tears. "Nobody judging you for what you look like or deciding to use you because you're just ugly enough to piss their ex off."
Brendon frowned. "Pull over."
"Why?" Jack asked, startled at the suddenness. "Are you going to puke or something?"
"Just pull the fuck over." Brendon actually rolled his eyes, though it was hidden by his sunglasses. When Jack had, Brendon unbuckled and turned in his seat, not even asking before his fingertips started sliding across the boy's features, looking for something. "It's your nose, isn't it?" he asked a moment later, still tenderly stroking the other boy's hair.
"See?" Jack pointed out miserably. "You're fucking blind and you can tell."
"Oh, please. We can't all look like Ryan. You're not ugly." And then, ever so soft, Brendon leaned in and brushed his lips against the bridge of Jack's nose. They'd sat there like that for as long as Jack could handle so he nodded, cleared his throat, and put the car back in drive.
---
"Want to come to a party tonight?" There was a pause in the voice of Brendon's phone. "From Jack. Received 6:12 PM."
Fuck yes, the boy typed back excitedly.
"Leave your front door unlocked. I'll pick you up at eleven or so."
Brendon's phone dictated all his texts and incoming calls, which was why he always kept an earpiece hooked up to it when he was at home. God forbid his parents overhear Ryan talking about getting laid or something like the party invite. He did the same with his laptop.
His cell buzzed again. "Want to go to a movie tonight?" Pause. "From Ryan. Received 6:23 PM."
"Shit." Brendon mumbled. He actually did want to hang out with Ryan, he just really wanted to go to a party. He responded with a lie about going to dinner with his parents. He knew it was wrong to lie, but he really didn't want the earful he'd get if he even mentioned Jack's name.
"Can't they go without you . . . from Ryan. Received 6:27 PM."
"Shut up with the time." Brendon snapped irritably at the phone. Is something wrong?
"Just bored . . . from Ryan. Received 6:25 PM."
Sorry dude. Can't. Brendon stuck his tongue out. "Now you know how I fucking feel."
---
This time was different, Brendon thought hazily as Jack's mouth devoured his. He'd always had a crush on Jack. And now, here they were, locked in a bathroom or something. He was sitting on a counter with his legs wrapped around the boy's waist. If this is what it's like for Ryan, now wonder he does it so much.
"You ever . . . done . . . this . . . before?" Jack asked between kisses.
"Once." Brendon returned, moaning out loud when he felt the teeth bite down on the pulse in his neck.
"Ever do anything else?" Jack asked.
"I sucked him off." Brendon could feel the boy's smile against his skin and he felt, if it was possible, his heart beating still harder.
"Want to again?" Jack asked, his voice thick. "I'll return the favor."
Brendon nodded eagerly.
---
When Ryan picked Brendon up from the school the next day, the younger boy could already sense that something was wrong. They were halfway to Brendon's house before Ryan spoke. "You fucking lied to me." His voice was ice. "You lied to me to sleep with Jack fucking Barakat."
"I didn't sleep with him!" Brendon snapped, immediately hitting himself. His plan to deny, deny, deny had just jumped out the window.
"But you fucked around." Ryan snarled. Brendon heard the growl of a lioness.
"It's none of your fucking business!" the boy yelled back. "How many guys have you fooled around with? Do I ever say anything? Even when you blow me off to do it?" Brendon was practically hysterical now. There were tears on his cheeks, but he was barely aware of them. The car stopped suddenly. "Where are we?"
"Your house." Ryan said shortly. "And at least I don't lie."
Brendon opened his door and stepped outside, pulling off his sunglasses to 'look' back in at Ryan. "You wouldn't care this much if I could see, would you?" he asked bitterly.
The engine stopped suddenly and Brendon heard Ryan undo his seatbelt. He dropped everything in his arms and bolted for the house. The entire scene seemed to happen in slow motion. "I'm going to fucking kill you, Urie!" Ryan screamed as he ran after Brendon.
The younger boy miscounted his steps and ran into the front door, wincing as he frantically fumbled to open it. He managed finally and headed for the stars, tripping after only a few and scrambling up the rest of them on his hands and knees. Then to his room. Ryan was fast though. He always had been. He forced his way in before Brendon got his bedroom door shut all the way.
---
Brendon's sister, Kara, was only a year older than him. Normally she drove straight home and beat her brother to the front door, but she'd had to get gas today and when she arrived home Ryan's car was already in their wrap-around driveway--with both doors open and the keys in the ignition, Brendon's cane and bookbag on the ground. "What in God's name . . ."
She took the keys out and shut the doors, locking it and picking up Brendon's things as she slowly made her way to the front door, which was slightly ajar. She pushed it the rest of the way open and was fairly confident the noise she heard from upstairs was a slap.
---
Brendon cried out as the back of Ryan's hand struck his face, his own instinctively flying to his cheek. He heard footsteps on the stair, but they stopped abruptly at the sound of Ryan's voice.
"Don't you ever . . ." he yelled, gasping for breath, " . . . ever fucking accuse me of that, ever." He was panting, not only because he was out of breath, but because he was trying so hard not to cry. And he failed, crumpling to the floor and beginning to sob so hard he felt he might throw up.
Brendon sank to his bed in stunned silence, his hand still on his cheek, feeling completely numb. "It's not fair." he whispered, finally. "It's not. I didn't do anything wrong."
Now Ryan was angry all over again. "Well, if you didn't do anything wrong," he choked out, "maybe I'll just call your mom and tell her everything you didn't do wrong last night."
Brendon's voice was hard enough to cut diamonds. "If you even think about it, I'll call your dad and tell him you're a fucking faggot."
On the stairs, Kara winced. She'd never heard that word come out of her brother's mouth before.
Ryan hit him again, but Brendon expected it and didn't make a sound. So Ryan hit him again and again and again until he finally just fell into Brendon's arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I hate them." he whispered bitterly. "I'm so fucking jealous."
"But . . you don't even like Jack." Brendon said, confused. "How could you be jealous of me?"
"I'm not jealous of you." Ryan straightened up and then straddled Brendon's waist, leaning in until their noises were touching. "I'm jealous of them." He closed his eyes, trying to force the tears back. "Jack and Alex and anyone who looks at you. Anyone you flirt with. Just . . . everyone."
"But--" Brendon's words were promptly swallowed and forgotten as Ryan's lips found his. So soft, like they were made from the feathers of angel wings.
They remained like that (eventually lying down), just kissing for over an hour.
Kara went downstairs and shut the front door and then pulled out chicken to thaw for dinner and put away the dishes, even though it was her brother's turn. When her parents got home at five, she told them most of what had happened, leaving out some of the finer details.
When Brendon's door opened shortly after, he sat bolt upright in bed as if he'd heard a gunshot. He had no way of seeing the scene in the doorway, both his parents and Kara. Boyd Urie's eyes were twinkling and he was wearing a broad smile. "Well, it's about damn time."
Brendon could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard his father swear.
"Boyd." Grace said sharply, almost scolding.
"Well, it's true enough." he said as Ryan finally sat up, his face as red as tomato. And then Brendon's father began to laugh. Grace looked torn for only a moment and her weak laughter suddenly grew louder until tears were streaming down her cheeks and she had to cling to her husband for support.
"Later," she told the boys as they started to leave the doorway, "we'll need to have a little talk."
"Hi," the other boy said, looking up, a little to Ryan's right. He was wearing Spiderman sunglasses. "I'm Brendon."
"Are you building a sand castle?" Ryan asked, climbing in.
"Trying to. Want to help?"
It took three more trips to the park before it was ever brought up that Brendon was blind. "So you can't see me?" Ryan asked, curiosity thick in his voice. "At all?"
Brendon wiggled his fingers. "Just with my hands." He smiled. "Can I?"
Ryan let him.
---
"Hi," Ryan said breathlessly sinking onto the couch next to his best friend. He smelled like salt and tongues and Brendon made a face at it.
"Hey." he echoed, somewhat distantly.
Ryan didn't notice. He never did when his head was still spinning from the cologne of whatever boy he'd gone upstairs with. "You ready to get out of here?"
Brendon lifted a hand, reaching out. His finger touched the sweat on Ryan's cheek and he rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. The boy's hair was, predictably, messed up and at odd angles, but Brendon was just annoyed enough to not say anything. "Yeah, let's go." It really didn't matter if he wanted to leave. Ryan did and, as he would point out if Brendon objected, he had the keys.
Life had sure changed since sandboxes.
---
"Brendon, you better be down here in three minutes!" Grace Urie yelled up the stairs at her son. "Ryan's here to drive you." She turned to look at her son's best friend in his Catholic school uniform. "Did you eat breakfast, sweetie?"
"I'm fine, Mrs. Urie." he said, smiling. "Thank you."
Brendon came down the stairs then, tripping over the last one and falling into Ryan, who managed to catch him. "'Morning." Brendon said brightly. "Is my bag still on the floor or did Mom move it?"
"Already in my car." Ryan informed him. "Cane by the door."
"I'm going with Ryan to pick up his check and then we're going to Briana's, okay? Home by curfew." Brendon informed his mother as he walked toward the door.
"Are you staying over, Ryan?" Grace asked, watching the pair of them.
"If that's okay," the teenager replied, knowing it would be.
---
"New boy." Monroe whispered in Brendon's ear when he and Ryan came into Hot Topic to pick up his check. "Super cute. Want to see?"
Brendon grinned wickedly. "Well, duh." The girl lead him to the back of the store, like an overexcited child. Her name wasn't really Monroe; it was Marilyn. She'd adopted the nickname when she was thirteen.
"Hey, Alex, this is Brendon. He's in here all the time."
"Monroe," Ryan hollered from the counter, "come give me my friggin' check."
"Hey, Alex." Brendon smiled as he heard Monroe walk off, swearing not so subtly under her breath.
"Hey, you're friends with Ryan, right?" Alex asked, setting down the stack of shirts he was holding.
Brendon nodded. "Can I touch your face?" he asked, not sounding the least bit embarrassed. "It's how blind people say hello."
Alex laughed and Brendon was hopeful that he recognized it as a come on. Even more so when Alex took Brendon's hands to put them on his face. "You play guitar," the teenager cried excitedly, recognizing the same fingertips that he and Ryan both possessed. He could feel the slight confusion on Alex's features. "Calluses," Brendon explained, letting his fingertips trace Alex's cheekbones, lips, jawline, the curve of his nose, eyelashes. And, finally, his hair. Brendon laughed. "You use more hair shit than Ryan."
"God, you're sweet." the aforementioned boy said from behind Brendon.
He dropped his hands, blushing slightly. "So there's a party tonight." Brendon told Alex. "Monroe can tell you how to get to Briana's."
"Maybe." Alex grinned, Brendon could hear it in his voice. "You going to be there, Ry?"
"No," he returned dryly. "Brendon's driving himself home."
And the younger boy turned, walking away and putting his sunglasses on as he did so that no one would see his eyes beginning to grow wet. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he and Ryan walked out to the car a few minutes later.
Ryan decided they should drive through Dairy Queen. "What's wrong with you?" he asked as they pulled up to the drive-thru.
Brendon didn't answer, just rested his forehead against the window. He squeezed his eyes shut. Even with his sunglasses it was too bright; his eyes hurt.
"So are you just going to ignore me?" Ryan asked. When there was no answer, he huffed angrily. "Alex is a whore," he said, voice very matter-of-fact. "He sleeps with anything that moves."
"So are you saying that not even a whore would sleep with me?" Brendon snapped angrily, turning his face in Ryan's direction.
"No," his best friend replied calmly. "I'm saying that you're too good to sleep with him."
"Well, I've never slept with anyone," he returned with a bite, "and I sure as hell don't plan on losing it to some random hot guy, so shut your fucking mouth." He blinked furiously, but to no avail. The tears slid down his cheeks, hot on his skin.
"Brendon . . ." Ryan began, sighing and checking his mirrors before pulling out of the drive-thru line and into an empty parking space. "Look, it's no big deal. Someone's going to want to--"
"Jesus." The blind boy's voice was loud and cutting. "It's not that."
"Then what?"
"You fucking humiliated me! You made me feel like such an invalid. Like I can't fucking do anything without you." Ryan froze for a moment. Brendon couldn't see his expression, but after a moment of silence, he brought his hand up to Ryan's face to feel it. "You didn't mean to," he said simply, his hand falling with a heavy sigh. "Well, that's something at least."
"I wasn't thinking." Ryan mumbled. "I'm sorry. I was jealous."
"Of me?" Brendon asked incredulously. He may have only talked to Alex for a minute but he could still tell the boy wasn't Ryan's type.
"O-Of you. Yeah." Ryan stumbled over his words a little.
"You like Alex?"
"No!" Ryan made a face. "Just that, y'know, you had a hot guy hitting on you."
"Oh." Brendon pondered for a moment and then waved his hand idly. "Okay, well, let's go to DQ then."
Ryan laughed. "We're in the parking lot, B."
---
The party at Briana's was no different than usual except that Alex showed up. He plopped down on the couch next to Brendon who was inhaling from a bong at that moment. After it had been passed, Alex took Brendon's hand and gently put it on his face. "Remember me?"
Brendon blushed slightly and let his hand fall. "Hey, Alex," he murmured softly. There was already a slight blush to his cheeks (as always) from the pot, but it became slightly more pronounced when Brendon's hand fell from Alex's face.
"Where's Ryan?" the boy asked.
"He went off to make out with some . . . one." Brendon said lamely, realizing almost entirely too late that Alex may not know Ryan's sexual orientation. Well, hasn't been told. Brendon mused with a silent laugh.
"And you?"
"And me what?" Brendon asked, slightly confused.
"Did you go off to make out with someone yet?" Alex purred in the boy's ear. Brendon could feel the breath on his skin, leaving a small trail of moisture.
"Clearly not." he returned, lips curling in a small smile.
"Do you want to?" This time, Alex's lips were tickling Brendon's neck with the question.
"Okay." His voice cracked. Brendon had never kissed a boy except once during a drunk game of Truth or Dare where he'd been made to kiss Ryan. And he had let Ryan take the reins on that. There hadn't even been tongue.
Alex pulled Brendon up by his hands. "Can I lead you?" he asked and Brendon was actually touched by the question and not just the assumption considering how inconsiderate Ryan had made the boy sound in the car.
He nodded. "Warn me for stairs."
"No stairs." Alex told him. "We're going to my car."
Brendon's fingers twitched. "But we're not going anywhere?" he asked tentatively.
"No."
They made their way outside and Alex helped Brendon in and to lay down without cracking his head against the window. Ryan's voice sounded in Brendon's head. 'He sleeps with anything that moves.'
Brendon took a steadying breath. But we're just kissing, he retorted mentally. Same as you. Nothing wrong with that.
---
The first five minutes of the car ride back to Brendon's house were thick with an unbearable, sticky silence. Then Ryan's voice exploded without warning. "I fucking warned you about him!" he roared. "How could you be so fucking stupid?"
Brendon normally would have screamed back but he was already crying. "I didn't mean . . .t-to. I thought . . . I thought we were just going to k-k-kiss . . ."
"You never just kiss." Ryan hissed, almost pissed at the naivety.
Now Brendon yelled through his tears. "Well, you never fucking told me that." He wiped at his cheeks furiously. "You always told me 'we're just going to make out', not 'I'm going to suck so-and-so's cock'."
Ryan sighed heavily, his jaw so taut it ached. Brendon had him on that one. It wasn't that his best friend was stupid, just that he hadn't had much experience with the pattern of how things really worked. "Are you okay?" Ryan asked in a much softer voice. "Was he an asshole about it?"
Brendon shook his head miserably. "He was really nice. I wish he'd been mean."
"I'm sorry I yelled," Ryan mumbled a moment later. "I just . . if anything happens, I feel like it's my fault."
"It's not." Brendon assured him. "Just don't let Mom find out."
Ryan nodded even though his best friend couldn't see it.
---
When Ryan went back to work Sunday he told Monroe what had happend with Alex and Brendon. Three days later, with everyone in the store watching him like a hawk, she finally found an excuse to fire him. The next day, she hired a college freshman named Will and she and Ryan spent the better part of the day debating whether he was gay or straight.
"Anyone I know?" Brendon asked from the front of the store where his fingers were running along different belts.
"New guy." Monroe called from the register.
Brendon arrived at the counter a beat later and removed his sunglasses. "New guy?" he asked Monroe. "But didn't you just hire Alex?"
"Just fired, more like."
Brendon's face instantly grew suspicious. "Why?"
"He stole store property." The manager didn't bother to add that the 'store property' was, in fact, just a pen that nearly every employee accidentally purloined on a regular basis. She didn't need to though. Brendon knew the real reason she'd fired Alex.
"You didn't have to do that." Brendon said softly, always amazed at how people could be so protective and, yet, not at all patronizing.
"Well, it was him or Ryan." Monroe pointed out. "And Ryan was a pretty tempting choice, but then you wouldn't come in as--Hey!" she cried as Ryan tossed a Green Day shirt at her head.
Brendon laughed, imagining what had happened.
---
It was clear that after two months William was Ryan's first serious boyfriend. Serious, here meaning last over a week, Ryan waiting a month to put out, and Will sticking around after Ryan did put out. And while Brendon and Ryan still hung out and the three of them went to a movie or something once a week, the stretches of time without Ryan were getting to the boy.
So he started hanging out with Jack. Ryan didn't like Jack at all, so Brendon had mostly talked to him on the computer or via text message. Jack was Brendon's age. He'd volunteered at Brendon's school after hours for extra credit in some class. They'd met at one of Brendon's solo lessons for choir. Jack had been dismissed when he got caught kissing a senior boy in the locker rooms.
"You know how nice it is to be with someone who can't see you?" Jack asked Brendon as he drove him home. His voice sounded a little too happy, like blindness was a kink or something. And then, a second later, Brendon could tell he was on the verge of tears. "Nobody judging you for what you look like or deciding to use you because you're just ugly enough to piss their ex off."
Brendon frowned. "Pull over."
"Why?" Jack asked, startled at the suddenness. "Are you going to puke or something?"
"Just pull the fuck over." Brendon actually rolled his eyes, though it was hidden by his sunglasses. When Jack had, Brendon unbuckled and turned in his seat, not even asking before his fingertips started sliding across the boy's features, looking for something. "It's your nose, isn't it?" he asked a moment later, still tenderly stroking the other boy's hair.
"See?" Jack pointed out miserably. "You're fucking blind and you can tell."
"Oh, please. We can't all look like Ryan. You're not ugly." And then, ever so soft, Brendon leaned in and brushed his lips against the bridge of Jack's nose. They'd sat there like that for as long as Jack could handle so he nodded, cleared his throat, and put the car back in drive.
---
"Want to come to a party tonight?" There was a pause in the voice of Brendon's phone. "From Jack. Received 6:12 PM."
Fuck yes, the boy typed back excitedly.
"Leave your front door unlocked. I'll pick you up at eleven or so."
Brendon's phone dictated all his texts and incoming calls, which was why he always kept an earpiece hooked up to it when he was at home. God forbid his parents overhear Ryan talking about getting laid or something like the party invite. He did the same with his laptop.
His cell buzzed again. "Want to go to a movie tonight?" Pause. "From Ryan. Received 6:23 PM."
"Shit." Brendon mumbled. He actually did want to hang out with Ryan, he just really wanted to go to a party. He responded with a lie about going to dinner with his parents. He knew it was wrong to lie, but he really didn't want the earful he'd get if he even mentioned Jack's name.
"Can't they go without you . . . from Ryan. Received 6:27 PM."
"Shut up with the time." Brendon snapped irritably at the phone. Is something wrong?
"Just bored . . . from Ryan. Received 6:25 PM."
Sorry dude. Can't. Brendon stuck his tongue out. "Now you know how I fucking feel."
---
This time was different, Brendon thought hazily as Jack's mouth devoured his. He'd always had a crush on Jack. And now, here they were, locked in a bathroom or something. He was sitting on a counter with his legs wrapped around the boy's waist. If this is what it's like for Ryan, now wonder he does it so much.
"You ever . . . done . . . this . . . before?" Jack asked between kisses.
"Once." Brendon returned, moaning out loud when he felt the teeth bite down on the pulse in his neck.
"Ever do anything else?" Jack asked.
"I sucked him off." Brendon could feel the boy's smile against his skin and he felt, if it was possible, his heart beating still harder.
"Want to again?" Jack asked, his voice thick. "I'll return the favor."
Brendon nodded eagerly.
---
When Ryan picked Brendon up from the school the next day, the younger boy could already sense that something was wrong. They were halfway to Brendon's house before Ryan spoke. "You fucking lied to me." His voice was ice. "You lied to me to sleep with Jack fucking Barakat."
"I didn't sleep with him!" Brendon snapped, immediately hitting himself. His plan to deny, deny, deny had just jumped out the window.
"But you fucked around." Ryan snarled. Brendon heard the growl of a lioness.
"It's none of your fucking business!" the boy yelled back. "How many guys have you fooled around with? Do I ever say anything? Even when you blow me off to do it?" Brendon was practically hysterical now. There were tears on his cheeks, but he was barely aware of them. The car stopped suddenly. "Where are we?"
"Your house." Ryan said shortly. "And at least I don't lie."
Brendon opened his door and stepped outside, pulling off his sunglasses to 'look' back in at Ryan. "You wouldn't care this much if I could see, would you?" he asked bitterly.
The engine stopped suddenly and Brendon heard Ryan undo his seatbelt. He dropped everything in his arms and bolted for the house. The entire scene seemed to happen in slow motion. "I'm going to fucking kill you, Urie!" Ryan screamed as he ran after Brendon.
The younger boy miscounted his steps and ran into the front door, wincing as he frantically fumbled to open it. He managed finally and headed for the stars, tripping after only a few and scrambling up the rest of them on his hands and knees. Then to his room. Ryan was fast though. He always had been. He forced his way in before Brendon got his bedroom door shut all the way.
---
Brendon's sister, Kara, was only a year older than him. Normally she drove straight home and beat her brother to the front door, but she'd had to get gas today and when she arrived home Ryan's car was already in their wrap-around driveway--with both doors open and the keys in the ignition, Brendon's cane and bookbag on the ground. "What in God's name . . ."
She took the keys out and shut the doors, locking it and picking up Brendon's things as she slowly made her way to the front door, which was slightly ajar. She pushed it the rest of the way open and was fairly confident the noise she heard from upstairs was a slap.
---
Brendon cried out as the back of Ryan's hand struck his face, his own instinctively flying to his cheek. He heard footsteps on the stair, but they stopped abruptly at the sound of Ryan's voice.
"Don't you ever . . ." he yelled, gasping for breath, " . . . ever fucking accuse me of that, ever." He was panting, not only because he was out of breath, but because he was trying so hard not to cry. And he failed, crumpling to the floor and beginning to sob so hard he felt he might throw up.
Brendon sank to his bed in stunned silence, his hand still on his cheek, feeling completely numb. "It's not fair." he whispered, finally. "It's not. I didn't do anything wrong."
Now Ryan was angry all over again. "Well, if you didn't do anything wrong," he choked out, "maybe I'll just call your mom and tell her everything you didn't do wrong last night."
Brendon's voice was hard enough to cut diamonds. "If you even think about it, I'll call your dad and tell him you're a fucking faggot."
On the stairs, Kara winced. She'd never heard that word come out of her brother's mouth before.
Ryan hit him again, but Brendon expected it and didn't make a sound. So Ryan hit him again and again and again until he finally just fell into Brendon's arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I hate them." he whispered bitterly. "I'm so fucking jealous."
"But . . you don't even like Jack." Brendon said, confused. "How could you be jealous of me?"
"I'm not jealous of you." Ryan straightened up and then straddled Brendon's waist, leaning in until their noises were touching. "I'm jealous of them." He closed his eyes, trying to force the tears back. "Jack and Alex and anyone who looks at you. Anyone you flirt with. Just . . . everyone."
"But--" Brendon's words were promptly swallowed and forgotten as Ryan's lips found his. So soft, like they were made from the feathers of angel wings.
They remained like that (eventually lying down), just kissing for over an hour.
Kara went downstairs and shut the front door and then pulled out chicken to thaw for dinner and put away the dishes, even though it was her brother's turn. When her parents got home at five, she told them most of what had happened, leaving out some of the finer details.
When Brendon's door opened shortly after, he sat bolt upright in bed as if he'd heard a gunshot. He had no way of seeing the scene in the doorway, both his parents and Kara. Boyd Urie's eyes were twinkling and he was wearing a broad smile. "Well, it's about damn time."
Brendon could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard his father swear.
"Boyd." Grace said sharply, almost scolding.
"Well, it's true enough." he said as Ryan finally sat up, his face as red as tomato. And then Brendon's father began to laugh. Grace looked torn for only a moment and her weak laughter suddenly grew louder until tears were streaming down her cheeks and she had to cling to her husband for support.
"Later," she told the boys as they started to leave the doorway, "we'll need to have a little talk."