The One Thing I Never Expected - Chapter 20
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
P.O.V: 1st, Brendon's
Summary: Ryan is Brendon's best friend, they grew up together. But Ryan is different. An accident when he was a child left him deaf. Brendon has always taken care of Ryan, but now he's starting to care for Ryan in a different way...
Disclaimer: Fiction, I own nothing. It’s not real.
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Chapter 20
The rest of my family left on Saturday. My grandma barely said two words to me, but I grit my teeth and pretended like I didn’t care, like I didn’t actually feel stinging in my eyes and a tightness in my chest. Milly was the hardest to see go. Mark promised me that he’d make sure I’d still get to see her, but I’m not holding him to that. Aiden was the only one who seemed to genuinely care, asking me if I was alright and telling me that I can call him anytime. He told me no matter what, I’ll never not have family to go to. I was supposed to go to school this week, but I got my mom to get me another week off. I just can’t deal with it yet.
So basically, after all this, I’m left with my mom, Aiden, Mark, and Milly. Four people who can accept me. Four people out of the thirty or so people in my family. I tell myself that’s okay.
That was about a week ago, and I’ll admit, I’ve been kind of sulky ever since. I haven’t been leaving the house or doing anything really. Why should I? I don’t see the point anymore. If I stay in my house for the rest of my life maybe bad things will stop happening to me. This thing with my family hasn’t made it easier to forget about what happened at the party. In fact, it’s made it worse.
I’m lying on the couch, clutching a couch pillow and staring at the TV without watching it when Ryan sits down beside me with a heavy sigh. I flick my eyes over to his. He’s looking at me with an expression that’s a mix of sympathy and exasperation, and it makes me feel sort of guilty.
“Brendon,” Ryan sighs, raising his eyebrows and cocking his head to the side.
“What?” I say, feigning innocence.
“You’ve gotta stop this,” he says seriously. I sigh and turn my eyes back to the TV, hugging the couch pillow closer to my chest.
“Stop what?” I ask, although I know he’s talking about me turning into a hermit.
“You know what,” he says in a tone that implies that I do indeed know what he’s talking about. “You need to get out of this…” he trails off, flailing his hand around in the air. “This state that you’re in, I don’t know,” he finishes, rolling his eyes. “Look, I know you’re upset about your family-”
“Do you really think that’s the only thing that’s been bothering me?” I ask slowly, flicking my eyes back to him. Ryan opens his mouth, and then closes it again, his eyes widening and filling with sadness. “Because it’s not.”
“I…I thought-” he starts, but I interrupt again.
“What? You thought that I’d just forgotten all about that? Did you think I was over it now? That I don’t think about it every single day? That I don’t go hide in the bathroom so you don’t see me cry? In case you don’t know, it’s kind of hard to forget about being raped.” I stop, calming myself and taking a deep breath. Ryan is staring at me with huge eyes that look dangerously close to watering. “You- you don’t understand what it’s like, Ryan,” I say in an almost-whisper. “I feel so worthless. Sometimes I don’t even want to exist anymore,” I say truthfully.
“Please don’t ever say that,” Ryan says, sounding scared. “Brendon, please. I- Baby, you have to promise me you won’t hurt yourself,” Ryan says frantically, bringing a hand to my cheek. “Promise me,” he repeats, a few tears spilling over his cheeks.
“I promise,” I whisper. “I remember the way I felt when you tried to kill yourself.” Ryan flinches at the bluntness of my words. “I could never do that to you,” I say honestly. I’ll never tell him, but the thought has crossed my mind- suicide. If only for a split second, but the thought was there; anything to stop the gnawing in my stomach and the scene from replaying in my head. But then I thought about Ryan, and I thought about how when he collapsed on my floor that day, I felt like dying. If Ryan had died, I probably would have killed myself. And I’m not ever going to make him feel that way.
“You’re my whole life, you know?” Ryan says weakly, looking a little more relieved now that I’ve put his worries to rest, but he still looks like he’s not entirely convinced. “I don’t know how to function without you.” He looks so upset, and now that I really look at him, he doesn’t look good at all. There are dark circles under his eyes, his hair is a mess, his lip is raw and red from being chewed on; he looks awful.
“Are you okay?” I ask, smoothing down his skewed hair. He leans into the touch just the slightest bit. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” he says sarcastically, but when he sees my serious face, he sighs. “I’ve just been worried about you. You haven’t left the house, you haven’t gone back to school, you’ve barely been eating, and don’t think I haven’t noticed, and I just don’t know how to help,” he says, his voice and his eyes pleading.
“I just,” I start slowly, thinking about what to say. “I just. I can’t get past it,” I whisper.
“Just tell me what you need, Bren. Anything, and I’ll do it for you,” he says eagerly, his eyes honest. I smile a little.
“I just need you.”
“I’m here,” he says quietly. He moves until he’s lying behind me, and he wraps his arms protectively around me, pressing his face into my neck. “I’m right here, baby.” He presses a chaste kiss to my neck, and I remain silent. It’s scary how much I need him.
***
I’m lying on my bed, watching TV, and I can hear Ryan running up the stairs again. Ever since yesterday, he’s been trying every way known to mankind to cheer me up. Every once in a while, he’ll run up here with a new idea, and after it fails, he’ll mope his way back down the stairs, probably to whine to my mother about it. The door flies open and he’s standing there smiling at me. I sigh and turn my head back to the TV. “No,” I say.
“But I haven’t even told you yet!” he protests. “How about we-”
“No,” I interrupt. Ryan makes a little growling noise that is actually really endearing. He’d be the least scary attacker ever. He’d be trying so hard, and you’d just be ‘aww’ing at how cute he is. My lips twitch at the thought.
“Brendon,” he exasperates. “If you would just listen to me for-” he suddenly stops. “Are you watching America’s Next Top Model?” he asks incredulously, looking between me and the TV. My eyes drop down guiltily.
“It’s the only thing that’s on,” I defend. “I can’t stop watching it now, it’s down to the final two, and if Whitney doesn’t win then I’m going to be really pissed.” Ryan stares at me with his mouth open. I raise my eyebrows. “What?”
“Nothing,” he sighs. “Anyway, I have something that will seriously cheer you up,” he says, the excitement back in his voice.
“Doubt it.”
“We’re going to put the tree up!” he grins. I try to keep my eyes from lighting up, but I love Christmas, okay. More than normal people.
“So?” I say nonchalantly.
“And then we’re going to decorate the whole house, because you need to do something other than watch TV.”
“Whatever, but after this episode,” I demand. Ryan rolls his eyes, but hops onto the bed beside me. I had kind of forgotten about Christmas. Probably because I haven’t been out of the house long enough to see the decorations and Christmas lights, signifying that it is in fact December and Christmas is a few weeks away. I’ll admit, this does make me feel better. This will be the first Christmas for Ryan and me as a couple. Oh my God, what am I going to get him?
“Ew, those shoes do not go with that top. I thought these people were supposed to have good fashion sense,” Ryan makes a face at the TV. “And ew, I can see that girl’s ribs. Why do you even watch this? Oh my God, I think Tyra’s about to go into bitch-mode.” Ryan stares at the screen with squinted eyes, and I bite back a laugh.
“Jesus, you’re almost too gay.”
“Excuse me?” Ryan scoffs, shooting me a scandalized look. “You were the one watching it in the first place.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t go commenting on their outfits like the fashion police,” I laugh.
“Brendon, you can say I’m gayer than you when you stop putting your dick in my ass,” he says casually, turning back to the TV. I laugh even harder, and he huffs and looks back at me again.
“Ryan, you’re gayer than me because I put my dick in your ass,” I say around laughs.
“Well if you don’t shut up, you won’t be doing that for a very long time,” he smiles sweetly.
“But. But I need sex. Sex is good,” I whine.
“That’s all you want me for. My amazing body,” Ryan pouts, wiping away a nonexistent tear. I bark out a laugh and playfully shove him.
“Yeah, okay,” I roll my eyes.
“Are you saying you don’t like my body?”
“I love your body,” I argue, a smile still lingering on my face.
“No, I get it. I’m a stick with legs and I have no curves,” he pouts even harder.
“No,” I say, crawling toward him and lifting his shirt up. I trail my finger down his stomach and smile. “I love your hips,” I say, leaning down to press a kiss to his hipbone. “Your stomach,” I lean up more to kiss his stomach. “Your chest.” My lips move up to his chest. I pull his shirt back down and tug the collar of it down. “Your collarbones,” I say, kissing my way across them. I move my mouth to his neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses there. “Your neck.” I finally move so I’m eye-level with him. “Your lips,” I mumble, leaning in to catch his lips between mine. I can feel his smile. I pull back, swiping my thumb across his lower lip. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are.”
“I love you,” Ryan whispers, smiling, looking so happy that I wonder why I’ve been so unhappy lately when I have this.
“And I love you,” I reply, kissing him softly again. “I’ve been stupid, haven’t I?” I ask when I pull back.
“No,” he shakes his head. “You have every reason to be acting the way you have been. I’m just trying to make you feel better.”
“I just,” I sigh, twirling a piece of his hair between my fingers. “I feel like I don’t deserve to be happy anymore,” I admit quietly. “Every time I start to smile, or laugh, I think about what happened, and it reminds me of what kind of person I really am.”
“What kind of person do you think you are?” Ryan asks, sounding sad.
“A person who’s been used. A person who has so much more than he deserves,” I mumble, turning my gaze to Ryan.
“What are you talking about?” he asks, his face scrunching up in confusion and worry.
“You deserve so much better than me, Ryan. You deserve someone good enough for you.”
“You’re more than good enough for me. You’re perfect, Brendon, and don’t you ever say that again,” Ryan orders, sounding serious. “Stop doubting yourself,” he says softer. “I don’t think any less of you, babe, and I don’t think you understand that. What happened,” Ryan swallows, looking like this is hard for him to talk about, “it wasn’t your fault. It didn’t make you dirty, or used. It didn’t make you any less of an amazing person. It didn’t change anything that I love about you. You’re still that hyperactive kid that moved here when I was five and changed my life,” he finishes softly. “You moved here, and,” he stops. He suddenly smiles and brings his index finger to his nose, and then moves it down to his other open palm. The sign for, ‘fall in love.’ A huge smile makes its way across my face and I lunge forward, squeezing him in a hug.
“I believe we have a tree to decorate,” he mumbles into my ear.
***
“Oh my God, you’re doing it wrong!” I squawk at Ryan, who jumps, dropping the bag of chocolate chips he was holding on the floor, which then go rolling everywhere.
“Nooo!” Ryan cries exaggeratedly, dropping to his knees and looking sadly at the scattered chocolate chips. “Look what you did! These poor chocolate chips,” he stage-whispers. “They never even had a chance to be eaten by me.”
“Well I couldn’t just sit there and watch while you put them in the bowl before you mixed the batter!” I exclaim.
“Why does that even matter?”
“Because it just does. You mix the batter, and then add the chocolate chips,” I say like it should be obvious.
“You’re ridiculous!” Ryan says incredulously.
“Brendon!” My mom whines, coming into the kitchen. “Why do you always make a mess?” I gape at her and point an accusing finger at Ryan.
“It was him! Why do you always blame me for everything?”
“Poor little Ryan wouldn’t do such a thing, would you?” My mom smiles at Ryan, who smiles sweetly and shakes his head. I scoff.
“There are more of those in the pantry,” Mom says. “I’ll clean this up,” she adds. Ryan goes to get the chocolate chips and my mom turns to me. “You seem to be feeling much better.”
“I am,” I smile slightly. “Ryan and I talked yesterday, before we put the tree up, and it helped a lot,” I shrug.
“Good,” she smiles, kissing my forehead. “Ryan!” she yells to the pantry. “Grab me the flour and the cocoa powder!”
“Okay!” we hear from the pantry. Ryan was so excited about this whole day. It was my mom’s idea. She and I usually do this every year around Christmas. We take a whole day and just bake a shit load of cookies and brownies and whatever else we want. Ryan just loves it, and that’s probably the cutest thing ever.
He returns with his arms full and drops it all down on the counter. He goes to mix the batter for the muffins first this time, sticking his tongue out at me. My mom turns the radio on to some pop station, and I hum along, swaying my hips while I roll the cookie dough I made out into balls on the pan. Ryan’s on muffin duty, I’m on cookies, and my mom’s got brownies. I wanted to make the brownies but the last time I tried, I put too much flour in and the brownies rose about a foot out of the pan, so I’m safely sticking to cookies.
Ryan’s about to turn the mixer on but I squeak and point a finger at the bowl. “Put it in the bowl before you turn it on.” Ryan looks at me with innocent eyes.
“I was going to,” he defends. I raise an eyebrow and get back to my cookies.
-
About an hour later, my cookies and Ryan’s muffins are done, and we’re waiting on the brownies. I hop up on the counter and grab a muffin, which has so many chocolate chips, you could call them chocolate-filled. Ryan went overboard.
“All this chocolate is going to make me go into a diabetic coma,” I say to Ryan, biting into the muffin.
“You don’t have diabetes,” he reminds me. I pause.
“Well then it’s going to give me diabetes,” I smile, taking another bite. He rolls his eyes and smiles back, walking in front of me where I’m perched on the counter, standing in between my legs.
“You have chocolate all over your face,” he laughs fondly. I hear my mom mumble something like ‘always making a mess’ from the other side of the kitchen.
“Get it off,” I whine. He gets a devilish looks and leans forward.
“Okay,” he obliges, leaning forward and swiping his tongue along the corner of my mouth. He moves his mouth to my cheek and licks again. I giggle a little and he moves back down, licking across my lips before kissing me. I pull my fingers through his belt loops, tugging him closer to me. He makes that ‘mmm’ sound that I love, and my stomach does that ridiculous flutter. I decide chocolate kisses are my new favorite.
“Gross,” my mom says in passing, making her way to the oven, completely ruining the moment. And it was such a cute moment. Ryan laughs and pulls back, tugging on my bottom lip before letting go.
“Later,” he smiles, kissing me one more time.
“Did you get all the chocolate off?” I ask.
“Yes, Brendon,” Ryan laughs.
“Well, I don’t want chocolate all over my beautiful face,” I inform him, and he scoffs.
“You’re definitely back to yourself.”
***
It’s Monday, and I’m finally going back to school. I just keep reminding myself that it’s only for a week and a half, and then we’re out for Christmas break.
Before we walk in, Ryan grabs my hand. Just as expected, everyone is staring at me. There are whispers and wide-eyed glances, and I can already feel the nervousness set it.
“Just ignore them,” Ryan whispers, squeezing my hand. We walk past a few freshmen and I hear one of them mutter, “isn’t that the guy that Chris-” and that’s all I hear before I walk away as fast as I can, tugging Ryan with me. We make it to our lockers and Spencer is there.
“Hey!” he smiles, launching himself at me and squeezing me to death.
“Um, hi?” I say confusedly to this person that is clearly not Spencer.
“I missed you,” he sighs. “Lunch was so boring with you gone and Ryan sulking.”
“I wasn’t sulk-” Ryan begins but Spencer cuts him off.
“You were sulking.” Ryan grumbles under his breath and Spencer smiles again.
“Why are you being nice?” I ask suspiciously. Spencer looks scandalized.
“I’m always nice,” he says guilelessly.
“Yeah, okay,” I snort. The bell rings and we all make our way to class, and I try really hard to ignore the people staring at me.
***
“So then he said that I disgusted him,” William shakes his head sadly. “At first he was alright with it, but now he’s completely changed his mind.” He’s telling us about a fight he had with his dad last night. “So then I yelled back at him, and he told me to get out.”
“And then I came and picked him up,” Gabe adds in. “And we went back to my place, and my brother was all like, ‘you should just move in with us.’”
“So I am,” William finishes. I blink.
“You’re moving in with Gabe?” William nods. I blink again. “Cool,” I nod back. “I’m really sorry about your dad, though.”
“Eh, it’s fine. We were never close anyway,” he shrugs.
“So, um,” Jon starts. “How are you doing, Bren?” He and Spencer are holding hands. In front of people. I’m proud.
“I’m better,” I reply honestly.
“So, would you maybe feel like hanging out tonight?” Spencer asks.
“Sure,” I shrug.
“Good, because Spence and I are going ice skating and William and Gabe refused,” Jon says, beaming.
“There’s a place to go ice skating in Nevada?” I frown.
“Yeah!” Spencer smiles.
“Oh, God,” Ryan mumbles.
“You’re going, so shut up,” Spencer snaps at him.
“What the hell did you get me into?” Ryan asks me.
***
“No,” Ryan shakes his head adamantly. “Nope. No.”
“Come on!” Spencer begs. Ryan eyes the ice skates warily before raising an eyebrow at me. I just shrug.
“No,” Ryan repeats.
“Ryan Ross, if you and Brendon do not come and skate with us right this instant, I will slit your throat with this skate.”
“Why do we have to?” Ryan whines.
“Because I said so,” Spencer bitches in his mother tone. “You have two minutes,” he warns before skating off to Jon and grabbing his hand.
“It’ll be fun,” I half-smile. Ryan doesn’t budge.
“I’m sorry, but falling on my ass and freezing to death is not my definition of ‘fun.’”
“I’ve been ice skating before, when my mom and I went to Chicago a couple of years ago. It’s not that bad,” I reason.
“You better not fucking let me fall,” he gripes before sitting down to put on the skates.
“I won’t.”
We make our way to the ice rink, and Ryan eyes the ice suspiciously, as if it’s going to try to make him fall. He turns around to protest but I step on the ice and yank him with me. He shrieks and flails his arms everywhere, grabbing onto my shoulders to keep from falling.
“Brendon!” he whines. I giggle a little and start gliding backward, holding onto a very frightened Ryan.
“See, I’ve got you,” I smile. I look across the rink and I spot Spencer and Jon holding hands and smiling at each other. “Look at them,” I shake my head. “I can’t believe that.” Ryan follows my gaze and smiles a little.
“It’s weird,” he muses, before turning around and wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “This is kind of nice once you get past the initial fear of dying,” he nods, pleased.
“I told you,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss him briefly. His lips are cold, and his nose is red. His face is all flushed and it’s adorable. “What do you want for Christmas?” I ask him, remembering that I have no idea what to get him.
“You don’t have to-”
“What do you want for Christmas?” I repeat, firmer. He rolls his eyes and sighs.
“I don’t care. What do you want?” I give him an annoyed glance and shrug.
“Surprise me,” I decide. I don’t really care about presents all that much anyway.
“Hey, guys!” Jon waves as he and Spencer glide past us, grinning from ear to ear. I’ve never seen Jon so upbeat before. It’s precious. I turn my attention back to Ryan and start humming ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You.’ When he realizes what I’m humming, he laughs.
“You’re so cheesy,” he says, but he’s smiling widely and his eyes are gleaming. I count it as a win.
***
“Oh my God, wait!” Ryan yells, running away from me, Jon, and Spencer to look in some shop window. We’re walking back to where we parked Spencer’s car, and it’s starting to get a little dark outside. It’s also really chilly, and I pull my jacket tighter around myself. “Brendon, come here!” Ryan says, his voice filled with adoration.
I walk over to the window and I see that it’s a pet shop. I get to Ryan and he has his face pressed against the glass, staring at a puppy. It’s a tiny little beagle, and it’s wearing a pink collar, so I’m guessing it’s a girl. She’s looking straight at him, wagging her tail. “Look at her! Oh my God, she’s so cute!” Ryan squeals. I stare at him incredulously. I knew he loved animals, but he is absolutely fawning over her.
“Yeah, she is,” I agree, laughing a little.
“Come on, it’s cold!” Spencer calls to us. Ryan reluctantly pulls his face away from the glass, giving one last glance to the puppy. I see him staring at her like it’s killing him to leave her, and suddenly I know exactly what I’m getting Ryan for Christmas. I smile to myself, grabbing my cell phone and quickly adding the number to the pet shop that’s on a sign on the door, then I shove the phone back in my pocket and follow Ryan back to Spencer and Jon, excited to see this all play out.
Next Chapter
***
A/N: Sorry this took so long, but I finally got it finished. There’s only one chapter left now, ahh. Dx So sad. This was my first fic, and I can’t believe I’m almost done with it. I promise it won’t take as long as this chapter took me. Leave comments! (: