Brendon's Magic Lips

Ryan was bored. That’s all it pretty much took – boredom. Being swallowed up by the complete dullness of life and the complete disinterest to live it. He’d go bother somebody about his apathy with everything but nobody was with him at the moment.

But there was Brendon.

He walked into his room at around noon. His first reaction was disgust, Ryan was lying in his bed with a half-empty bottle of vodka. Once the older boy saw him, he laughed. “What are you looking at?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Brendon asked, sending Ryan a tolerant look.

Ryan rolled his eyes, “Killing time, what does it look like?” He took another swig from the tinted glass bottle and coughed after he’d realize that he took in too much in one gulp.

Brendon on the other hand, was asking more questions. “What is it now?

“What is what now?”

“I meant why.”

“Oh.” Ryan seemed to be at thought for a second but immediately dropped the face to laugh again. “Uh . . .” he looked at the ceiling with twinkling eyes.

Brendon almost smiled. “What?”

The older boy swung the wine bottle to his mouth in exaggeration and took another sip. “I was bored, I am bored, and I will be bored.” He brought his hands up, demonstrating every word he said. His hands moved around the air like butterflies and it amused Ryan so he kept doing it.

Brendon narrowed his eyes, “you were bored last Monday too. You’re starting up a pattern here, Ross.”

“It’s a Monday today?” His hands stopped moving and he looked at Brendon questioningly.

After Brendon nodded, Ryan sighed. “I forgot to go to school today.” He sounded sad but he started laughing again in no time. Must be the liquid, Brendon thought.

“Forgot?” Brendon smirked.

But Ryan rolled his eyes. He didn’t find anything funny. “Fuckface is going to kill me,” his eyes looked glossy before he started rubbing them. “If he gets home, anyway.”

There was a moment of silence then. Just Ryan drinking and Brendon watching until Ryan suggested a walk. “You’re drunk,” the younger boy had answered.

Ryan’s answer was simple. “I’ll act like I’m not, then.” He took another gulp and stood up from his bed and to the door with the bottle still in hand.

“Do you want to get killed, Ross?” scoffed Brendon. They went to the park, Ryan stumbling a few times over and over.

“Why would I be?”

“Public intoxication.” Ryan smiled up at Brendon again then took another sip from the bottle.

The older boy chuckled. “So you do listen in class.” It was meant to tease Brendon, but the joke didn’t seem to faze him. “Wouldn’t that be an adventure?”

Ryan held the wine bottle up invitingly but Brendon sneered. “Come on!” he shook the bottle for exaggeration. “Wet your whistle!” he brought both his hands up in the air again and shook them to feign enthusiasm.

They sat on a bench – actually, Ryan fell on a bench, Brendon just followed in a more graceful way. They just stared at each other, Ryan occasionally breaking the trance to sip on his bottle. He chugged it all down to the last drop and threw it carelessly behind his shoulders.

All of a sudden, Brendon got a slap on the face. Ryan sighed. It was surprising how quickly his emotions changed.

“What?”

“Your lips, you moron.” The older boy smiled and looked up at the still shining sun.

Brendon couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, “what about them?”

“Well,” Ryan let out a bitter chuckle before placing his hands behind his head and leaning back. “Wouldn’t it be sooo amazing if your lips were magic?”

“Magic?”

“Magic.”

This was something about Ryan he’s never seen before – probably because he’s never seen Ryan Ross drunk before – and it was strange, to say the least. So he couldn’t help but ask, “How are they . . . magic?”

The older boy answered almost immediately. “When somebody kisses you, you’re suddenly pulled into a fantasy world like . . . Neverland or something.”

“Neverland?”

“Neverland.”

Brendon shrugged and looked at his feet. “I wanna go to Neverland.”

Ryan seemed to perk up when he heard this. Taking Brendon’s freezing hands into his own that were also freezing. He looked into his eyes; sincere. “Do you trust me, Brendon?”

The answer came out as a whimper. “Yes.”

He took the younger boy’s face and brought it to him and their lips pressed together.

It was like magic. Beating hearts were clear in their ears when they felt the rest of the world being replaced with a new one. They were afraid to open their eyes, afraid to see the fantasy before them.

But once they did, they felt okay. It was raining, Ryan pulled away with his hand still holding onto Brendon’s. He closed his eyes and smiled as the raindrops fell on his face; he looked like an angel.

Then they hear a giggle, up in the trees. Light, flying light hiding behind leaves. They flew out, circling them and Brendon uttered, “Fairies.”

“Fairies,” he repeated.

“What are they doing?”

“Dust.” The golden substance fell to their heads and to their hands. And slowly, they start to rise. Brendon’s non-believing eyes closed, whispering to himself that what was happening was real. But once he opened his eyes again it was all gone.

Neverland was gone.

He moaned and pulled away from the kiss. And unexpectedly, he cried. Buried his head in his palms and the tears gushed out. “I wanted to fly,” he whimpered.

But Ryan smiled at the younger boy and placed both arms on his shoulders. And he said –

“We’ll just have to try harder, then.”