Sneaking Glances and Writing Lines
Title: Sneaking Glances and Writing Lines
Author: consenting
Pairing: Chris Faller (The Hush Sound)/Ryan Ross
Rating: PG
Summary: Chris finds Ryan staring out the window and Ryan says some crushing things.
Disclaimer: Not real, kids.
“One day,” Ryan says quietly, but he bites his tongue. The words, oddly bitter, sit in his mouth and he’s unable to spit them out, to swallow them. He shifts his weight to his arms; he’s bracing himself on the windowsill, every once in a while brushing his thumb back and forth to feel the grit of dust gather in the creases in his skin. He sighs, uncertain. Behind him is steady breathing. Chris. They’ve been standing there for twenty minutes now trying to figure out what to do and say. It’s now dark out, the room shades of blue and black. They’re both stuck in their spots and don’t have the will to turn on the lamp in the corner.
Ryan could see Chris’ reflection in the window before because of the way the sun filtered through the window across the hall. He looked so young and content with his life, and somewhat uneasy about the silence they were sharing. He seemed so quiet, but so sure of himself. He was a strong person, hardly ever saying more than necessary to anyone, and most importantly, he listened. He could listen for hours without saying a word. He wouldn’t let his mind stray. He would be all yours for a little while and that made him so appealing to Ryan. With his long hair, his small frame, he reminded Ryan of himself. And in that window, Ryan thought he saw his reflection in place of Chris’ right before the sun disappeared.
Chris’ chest heaves. He wants this more than anything right now. He wants Ryan and he won’t back down until he gets him. But Ryan, Ryan hasn’t really made a move in months, a year almost, not since their summer tour together, not until today, but even that was somewhat induced by alcohol. Ever since the summer though, Chris has had such a desperate, powerful longing for him. Chris needs Ryan’s glances. He misses hearing Greta tease him about Ryan writing about him. He doesn’t remember what it’s like to have a fluttering heart and a flushed face, or what it’s like to have Bob and Darren slap him on the back mumbling something about how great it is for him to be so happy.
Stuff came slowly crumbling down at the end of the tour when they went their separate ways, when Ryan stopped calling, when Chris stopped caring. But then, there they were, together again, with Chris sprawled on Ryan’s bed feeling Ryan’s ribs on top of his own, feeling his lungs suffocate from the lack of air. Ryan remembers how comfortable it all felt; Chris remembers the relief afterwards. They both remember today and they both remember avoiding each other, not too sure what to do or say. Awkward, silent. And they both know how they got to where they are now. It was all Ryan staring out the window and Chris watching, and the reflection, and the deep thought, and the crushed feelings, and how all this happened and Ryan was the only one to say something, but even that got cut short because of his ambiguity.
Ryan sighs, looks down at his sore hands, and then back up at the window. He lets his mouth release the words but only with a heavy heart. “…We’ll sort shit out, but not today.”
Author: consenting
Pairing: Chris Faller (The Hush Sound)/Ryan Ross
Rating: PG
Summary: Chris finds Ryan staring out the window and Ryan says some crushing things.
Disclaimer: Not real, kids.
“One day,” Ryan says quietly, but he bites his tongue. The words, oddly bitter, sit in his mouth and he’s unable to spit them out, to swallow them. He shifts his weight to his arms; he’s bracing himself on the windowsill, every once in a while brushing his thumb back and forth to feel the grit of dust gather in the creases in his skin. He sighs, uncertain. Behind him is steady breathing. Chris. They’ve been standing there for twenty minutes now trying to figure out what to do and say. It’s now dark out, the room shades of blue and black. They’re both stuck in their spots and don’t have the will to turn on the lamp in the corner.
Ryan could see Chris’ reflection in the window before because of the way the sun filtered through the window across the hall. He looked so young and content with his life, and somewhat uneasy about the silence they were sharing. He seemed so quiet, but so sure of himself. He was a strong person, hardly ever saying more than necessary to anyone, and most importantly, he listened. He could listen for hours without saying a word. He wouldn’t let his mind stray. He would be all yours for a little while and that made him so appealing to Ryan. With his long hair, his small frame, he reminded Ryan of himself. And in that window, Ryan thought he saw his reflection in place of Chris’ right before the sun disappeared.
Chris’ chest heaves. He wants this more than anything right now. He wants Ryan and he won’t back down until he gets him. But Ryan, Ryan hasn’t really made a move in months, a year almost, not since their summer tour together, not until today, but even that was somewhat induced by alcohol. Ever since the summer though, Chris has had such a desperate, powerful longing for him. Chris needs Ryan’s glances. He misses hearing Greta tease him about Ryan writing about him. He doesn’t remember what it’s like to have a fluttering heart and a flushed face, or what it’s like to have Bob and Darren slap him on the back mumbling something about how great it is for him to be so happy.
Stuff came slowly crumbling down at the end of the tour when they went their separate ways, when Ryan stopped calling, when Chris stopped caring. But then, there they were, together again, with Chris sprawled on Ryan’s bed feeling Ryan’s ribs on top of his own, feeling his lungs suffocate from the lack of air. Ryan remembers how comfortable it all felt; Chris remembers the relief afterwards. They both remember today and they both remember avoiding each other, not too sure what to do or say. Awkward, silent. And they both know how they got to where they are now. It was all Ryan staring out the window and Chris watching, and the reflection, and the deep thought, and the crushed feelings, and how all this happened and Ryan was the only one to say something, but even that got cut short because of his ambiguity.
Ryan sighs, looks down at his sore hands, and then back up at the window. He lets his mouth release the words but only with a heavy heart. “…We’ll sort shit out, but not today.”