Soft Spoken Words
Soft
Ryan glances at the three of them, all lined up in a row, all waiting. It’s the anticipation; it’s the edge of what could happen and what will happen. It’s the lost memories. It’s the hands on the clock that won’t stop for him, won’t stop for them.
“You don’t have to,” he says.
Spencer’s reply is immediate. “Fuck you, that’s selfish.”
“So you’re just going to leave us here?” Spencer asks, voice rising to higher octaves in anger. “Ryan, what the hell?”
Ryan bites his lip. “I can’t take it here anymore.”
“I know,” Spencer says, the tension lifting from his shoulders. “I just wish you could.”
“We’re all selfish,” Jon concludes, making it final.
Brendon keeps his eyes in his lap; keeps picking at his fingernails. He won’t say a word. Not now. Not anymore. Not after all he has already said. He can’t bring himself to speak. He can’t bring himself to push more questions on Ryan.
“Ryan,” he gasps. Ryan grazes his teeth across Brendon’s neck, wanting him to stop speaking. Brendon doesn’t. “Ryan why do you want to leave?”
Ryan pulls away. He glances at the clock behind Brendon’s shoulder. “It’s too fast.”
Brendon frowns, letting the tears spill over his eyelids. He turns away from Ryan; he turns right into Jon. “Then don’t look at it.”
The sun is getting hot, and Ryan’s rubbing his hands on his jeans. He keeps brushing his fingers against Spencer’s. He keeps leaning into Brendon. He keeps glancing at Jon with pleading eyes, but Jon isn’t moving from Brendon’s side.
“You really think I’d let you do that?” Brendon says. “You can’t just leave Ryan. That’s not how things work.” Jon rubs the tears off Brendon’s cheeks. Jon holds Brendon in his arms because Ryan’s afraid to touch him. “You have to take us with you.”
They feel the rumble. They hear the strained whistling.
Ryan stands up and Brendon sucks in his breath. Brendon watches as Ryan steps into the middle of the tracks, his eyes defiant and hard. Brendon stands and clings onto Ryan when he joins him on the tracks. Spencer and Jon grab hands and take small steps, small breaths. They squeeze in between the bars, finishing the line Ryan and Brendon created.
Spencer shifts under the blankets. He grips Ryan’s hip in one hand. He pulls Brendon’s hair with his other. Jon’s pressed against the edge of the bed, arms stretched over Brendon in between them to grip in the fabric of Spencer’s shirt. Brendon has let himself be squished, has let himself be buried under arms and legs. He keeps his face in Jon’s chest; lets Spencer tug his hair for reassurance.
Ryan pushes closer into Spencer, letting Spencer smooth circles into his hips. Ryan reaches out, put’s his hand on top of the one Jon has got wrapped into Spencer’s shirt. If he stretches his fingers he can graze Brendon’s bare back, feel him shiver.
He thinks the night passes too quickly.
Brendon lets out a strangled sob when the train gets closer. He pushes into Ryan’s side, pushes his face into Ryan’s shoulder.
Jon starts repeating soft spoken words into Brendon’s ear. It’s all the things Ryan would have never said. It’s the I love you and promises Ryan couldn’t admit. But they’re all doing this with him, for him, for themselves.
He thinks he owes it to them.
But it’s too late because his voice gets drowned out by the rumbling, the whistle, the vibrating, the crash.
And for the last time Ryan thinks it’s all too fast.
“You don’t have to,” he says.
Spencer’s reply is immediate. “Fuck you, that’s selfish.”
“So you’re just going to leave us here?” Spencer asks, voice rising to higher octaves in anger. “Ryan, what the hell?”
Ryan bites his lip. “I can’t take it here anymore.”
“I know,” Spencer says, the tension lifting from his shoulders. “I just wish you could.”
“We’re all selfish,” Jon concludes, making it final.
Brendon keeps his eyes in his lap; keeps picking at his fingernails. He won’t say a word. Not now. Not anymore. Not after all he has already said. He can’t bring himself to speak. He can’t bring himself to push more questions on Ryan.
“Ryan,” he gasps. Ryan grazes his teeth across Brendon’s neck, wanting him to stop speaking. Brendon doesn’t. “Ryan why do you want to leave?”
Ryan pulls away. He glances at the clock behind Brendon’s shoulder. “It’s too fast.”
Brendon frowns, letting the tears spill over his eyelids. He turns away from Ryan; he turns right into Jon. “Then don’t look at it.”
The sun is getting hot, and Ryan’s rubbing his hands on his jeans. He keeps brushing his fingers against Spencer’s. He keeps leaning into Brendon. He keeps glancing at Jon with pleading eyes, but Jon isn’t moving from Brendon’s side.
“You really think I’d let you do that?” Brendon says. “You can’t just leave Ryan. That’s not how things work.” Jon rubs the tears off Brendon’s cheeks. Jon holds Brendon in his arms because Ryan’s afraid to touch him. “You have to take us with you.”
They feel the rumble. They hear the strained whistling.
Ryan stands up and Brendon sucks in his breath. Brendon watches as Ryan steps into the middle of the tracks, his eyes defiant and hard. Brendon stands and clings onto Ryan when he joins him on the tracks. Spencer and Jon grab hands and take small steps, small breaths. They squeeze in between the bars, finishing the line Ryan and Brendon created.
Spencer shifts under the blankets. He grips Ryan’s hip in one hand. He pulls Brendon’s hair with his other. Jon’s pressed against the edge of the bed, arms stretched over Brendon in between them to grip in the fabric of Spencer’s shirt. Brendon has let himself be squished, has let himself be buried under arms and legs. He keeps his face in Jon’s chest; lets Spencer tug his hair for reassurance.
Ryan pushes closer into Spencer, letting Spencer smooth circles into his hips. Ryan reaches out, put’s his hand on top of the one Jon has got wrapped into Spencer’s shirt. If he stretches his fingers he can graze Brendon’s bare back, feel him shiver.
He thinks the night passes too quickly.
Brendon lets out a strangled sob when the train gets closer. He pushes into Ryan’s side, pushes his face into Ryan’s shoulder.
Jon starts repeating soft spoken words into Brendon’s ear. It’s all the things Ryan would have never said. It’s the I love you and promises Ryan couldn’t admit. But they’re all doing this with him, for him, for themselves.
He thinks he owes it to them.
But it’s too late because his voice gets drowned out by the rumbling, the whistle, the vibrating, the crash.
And for the last time Ryan thinks it’s all too fast.