And That Smile That You Give, To Me

I had set it off for too long. Years, in fact. And it was killing me every second of the day, though I had never done anything about it, I just sat in the background and watched Brendon live his life without regret or worry. He was an overall genuinely happy person, lighting up an entire room with a single twitch of his thick lips.
I wished I had the courage to say what I wanted to say, but the consequences were so daunting they beat me back down every time without fail.

But I had had enough. That was it, I couldn’t keep this in any longer, so I did the only logical thing I could think of. I got high with Jon Walker, because confessing something like this just wouldn’t happen unless I was under some kind of influence.

"Jon, I really, really love someone," I said, pausing slightly between words as I always did when I was high. Jon looked strangely blurred at the edges as if someone had taken a giant eraser and smudged him.
"You don’t love me, do you?" Jon asked nervously eyes darting around.
"No! No, no, no," I could barely keep my head up, it felt too heavy, and was instantly jealous of Jon’s ability to never get completely high. But I had done this for a purpose and I intended to just spill it out already. "I...love my Brenny Bear."

Jon’s eyebrows shot up and he fought the urge to laugh. "Who the hell is Brenny Bear?"
"Oh," I giggled, covering my mouth as my head spun dizzily, blushing in embarrassment for accidentally letting slip my secret nickname. "I mean Brendon."

Jon just shook his head casually as if they were discussing the weather and not the emotional problems of a confused adult.
I sighed sadly, feeling the familiar heavy tug at my heart. Sure, I had been hoping, praying that telling Jon would produce some kind of instantaneous effect, but I felt no different. Except maybe a little stupid that I had just gotten high for no reason, and I hated smoking.

My head thumped a steady, rhythmic beat. I groaned and rolled over in my bunk, light trying to pry open my eyes. Finally deciding that falling back asleep wasn’t possible, I more or less rolled out of my bunk and landed off balance.
The world spun below me and I frowned, grabbing onto my throbbing head. What had I done last night? I hardly ever drank, so I wasn’t hung over as I initially thought.
Then I remembered cornering Jon after our set and demanding some pot, smoking it, and holy crap. I had actually gone through with it, hadn’t I? I had finally told someone about my undying, mind-bending, irrational crush on Brendon Urie.

"Crap," I mumbled to myself and stumbled towards the front of the bus where I could hear the blaring noise of a television joined with loud yells.

I opened the door and stepped into the front of the bus, eyes bugging out and jaw slacking. I must still be high, because I defiantly do not wake up to shit like this in the early morning.
Brendon was sitting on the floor of the bus, cross-legged, in front of the television on high volume, a scene from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory playing. The Oompa Loompa’s sang and danced on screen, Brendon bouncing his head to the beat as he sang along at the top of his lungs.
Jon and Spencer were standing closer, both of them with their legs spread and planted firmly, arms held out at dangerous angles as they grunted and screamed war cries. Their eyes were affixed on the laptop perched precariously close to the edge of the counter and playing a scene from some karate movie. The actor on screen jumped and kicked out his leg at the same time, causing Spencer and Jon both to let out manly grunts and thrust up into the air, swinging their limbs madly.

Spencer lost his footing as he landed and fell to the floor with a painful yelp, landing with his right arm twisted underneath him. Jon kicked him and grunted, never taking his eyes away from the screen. Spencer was up on his feet immediately, wiping sweat off his brow and returning to the warrior like stance form before.

The musical singing stopped and my attention was brought back to Brendon, who was rewinding the movie, a look of quiet joy on his face. The movie started playing again just as the tiny men appeared and sang their creepy little song, bouncing and dancing to their hearts content. Brendon threw the remote over his shoulder and sang along, swaying his body back and forth.

I blinked.
Okay, if I’m not still high, they sure as hell are.

Spencer was letting out high-pitched little squeals of frustration as he tried to mimic the actors’ movements, but it wasn’t nearly close. He desperately swung his arm around, the point of his elbow colliding with my nose.
“Fuck,” I cursed, clutching onto my nose. Spencer stopped flailing and hovered around me in concern, Jon even stopping to look away from his laptop.

“Sorry Ry, I totally didn’t see you there,” Spencer had to basically scream to be heard over the full-volume television.
I gave him a glare and pulled my hand away, checking to make sure there was no blood. Thank god there wasn’t, or else someone would have to deal with scraping a ninety-pound unconscious boy off the floor.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” I asked, touching my nose gently. A shrill pain shot through me when I touched the bridge and making my eyes water slightly.
“What?” Jon leaned forward and tilted his ear toward me.
“What are you doing?” I said louder, pronouncing each syllable slowly.
“What?”
“Brendon, shut that fucking thing off!”

Brendon jumped at my bark, fumbling around to find the remote and press ‘Mute’.
My three band mates looked at me sheepishly, Brendon blinking his large eyes innocently.

“What the hell are you guys doing?”

“I’m watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” Brendon stated the obvious, patting his chest to indicate himself like I was retarded. “And Jon and Spencer are trying to learn karate.”
The two of them grinned and nodded eagerly. I widened my eyes in disbelief, repressing the urge to either burst out laughing or to make fun of their stupidity. Either way, they were acting stupid.

“Whatever,” I conclude, throwing my hands up in defeat and padding over to the couch. Once I felt the rough fabric beneath me I left out a soft sigh, kneading my forehead and trying to fight past this headache.
Jon and Spencer were silent for about three seconds before another piercing war cry from Spencer broke through the momentary silence.

The couch cushion shifted under me, indicating someone had sat down. I peeked through half lidded eyes to see a grinning face, the beauty of his face making me forget about my painful headache and the two aspiring Bruce Lee’s.

“How’d you sleep Ry?” Brendon asked, tone soft and caring.
“Not so great,” I mumbled honestly. Brendon’s bottom lip pushed out very slightly as he scooted a bit closer and rested the remote control in my lap.
“You can pick what we watch, if you want.”

I smiled. The first thing I did was turn the volume down to barely audible, continuing to play Brendon’s movie. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Brendon mouthing the dialogue along with the characters, bouncing his leg like always. To see him so content made me smile foolishly, being reminded of my headache by a painful stab above my left eye. I grunted uncomfortably, cupping my head.

“Headache?”
I nodded in response to Brendon’s question, careful to move slowly. He ‘awed’ softly, clicking his tongue. Brendon’s hands slid smoothly across my jaw, making me freeze and tense up in his unexpected actions. Brendon gently pulled my head down, forcing my body to bend sideways as he laid my head in his lap.
“What are you doing?” I asked, hoping to mask to obvious surprise on my face.
“Making you relax. It’ll help with the headache, I swear,” Brendon placed my head on his thighs, letting his left hand drop as his other moved up and into my hair. He smiled down at me, left hand coming to rest on my stomach.

I tried so, so hard not to think about what was happening, I really did. Why did he have to torture me so? Brendon started drumming his fingers on my stomach and I tensed again in surprise.
Just focus on relaxing. That’s all I need to think about. Close your eyes and relax Ryan.

But no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t close my eyes or relax. My head, my eyes, my mouth was mere centimeters from Brendon’s crotch. It was right there, right directly in front of my face, staring me down, trying to break down the walls of self control I had built. How many times have I dreamt of this? But of course, those dreams consisted of certainly different circumstances. Brendon’s hand started twirling in my hair and I clamped my mouth shut, sealing off the moan that wanted to escape.

To say the least, Brendon made my head spin and heart stutter, he made me break into nervous sweats and shaking spells, he was the reason for the pages of Spencer’s magazines being stuck together with a mysterious liquid and also the reason for the constant jealously whenever a girl so much looked at him. He knew how to toy and fiddle with my emotions, even if he didn’t realize he was doing it. And that made it all the more worse, in my opinion.
Sometimes he acted just so adorable, for lack of a better word, that it made me want to wrap my arms around him. To pull him down on the couch and hold each other lovingly, to kiss him sweetly and whisper to each other.

But then there were other times, and those were the worst in my opinion just because it was so hard to hold back. Those times, when Brendon would do something so innocently arousing I would feel the pulsing need running through my body to grab him by the shirt and slam him against the wall, to touch him in all the places I wanted to, to kiss him so deeply it would make his head spin for a change.
Like the time when we had stopped at that arbitrary 7-11 and he had disappeared around the back. Of course I had been sent to get him, and when I did I found him leaning against the back wall, cigarette dangling precariously from his lips, shirt unbuttoned to the fourth button and hands jammed so tight into his pockets that his jean rode down and exposed a sliver of his boxers.

Moments like that had me scuttling away desperately, fleeing to a cold shower as erotic images failed to cease flashing through my mind’s eye.

“Thanks Bren, that feels much better,” I said hastily, regretting bringing that memory up seeing as all I could think about was how sexy he had looked with that cigarette.
He smiled and hands loosened for the briefest second, allowing me to escape the compromising position and hurry out of the room. As I passed him, Jon caught my eye, giving me a knowing wink.

I didn’t stop to demand what he meant by that because in all honesty it freaked me out. Instead, I kept on walking right to the tiny bathroom, closing the door sharply behind me and turning on the faucet to cold.

I pulled off my shirt, deflecting my eyes from my reflection in the mirror out of habit when suddenly the door banged open and I yelped out of surprise, clutching my shirt in front of my chest.
Jon rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him, cramming us both into an uncomfortably small space with my back jammed into the sink.

“J-Jon?” I asked, feeling a bit scared at the powerful look on his face.
“You need more help than I thought,” I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or more to himself.
“Excuse me?”
“With Brendon. You lose your cool too fast.”

I fumbled for a rebuttal, anything to convince him that last night’s confession had been in his imagination.
“Ryan, I’m not going to like, torture you or anything,” Jon laughed and I admit, I eased up a bit seeing my friend joking around.
“What are you going to do then?”
“I don’t know,” Jon shrugged. “Help I guess.”

I didn’t answer. He was playing some cruel joke on me, I can feel it. He was getting back at me for something I did to him.
“Why would you want to do that?” I felt like I had cornered him, but Jon Walker is not one to be cornered. He kept on smiling serenely.
“Honestly? Because I’ve seen you make a fool of yourself around Brendon way too many times to not want to help you…you know, like win his heart or whatever it is that you want to do.”

I analyzed the situation carefully in my mind. Here Jon was, wanting to help me get Brendon. He’s one of my best friends, I should trust Jon with anything. But something as big as this couldn’t just be dealt with lightly; we’re talking about my heart, and possible mental health, here.

“How do you propose to help me?”
Jon thought for a second before shrugging his infamously indifferent shrug. “Depends on what you’re willing to do for him.”
“I’d do anything for him,” I blurted out before I could stop myself, though I doubt I would have said anything different if I stopped to think before answering.
“Good. Then I can help you.”

Still reluctant, I bit my lip and busied myself with making a decision, Jon flashing me reassuring smiles whenever I looked his way.
“Since you told me last night I got to thinking,” Jon started. “And I’ve come up with a little game-“
“This isn’t a game, Jon.” I snarled, believing to have found the source of his sudden compassion.
“Yes, a game, of sorts. One, if played the right way and with proper guidance, will have Brendon by your side after four days.”
My eyebrows shot up along with my intrigue at the last bit. “Only four days?”

Jon nodded to confirm my question, leaning casually against the back of the door. “Only if you do exactly as I say will it happen in four days.”
“I don’t know…”
“Ryan, do you love Brendon?”

I paused. I was never, ever one to voice my emotions out loud, especially not as big of an emotion as love.
“Ryan, trust me. What have you got to lose?” Jon’s voice was so intriguing and promising that I found myself nodding, sealing off my last ounce of determination.

Jon beamed and clapped me on the arm. “Good. So we’ll start tomorrow. And remember, you have to do exactly as I tell you to, okay?”
“Wait, what if I don’t?”
That was what I was waiting for. The mischievous smile to play across his face.
“Then I’ll tell Brendon.”
I couldn’t even find the words to express my horror.

“You start tomorrow.”
Jon left the bathroom with one final, pointed look, leaving me standing alone in the tiny bathroom and feeling very much like I had just sold my soul to the devil.