Other people's dreams
Title: Other people's dreams
Author: alles_luege
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: PG -13
Summary: Ryan is sharing other people's dreams and some of them creep him out a lot, others just make him feel guilty.
Those dreams creep him out and maybe that's why he and Pete are so alike, maybe Pete's dreams made him. He doesn't know.
Warning(s): mentions of sex
Author's Notes: I really had one of those. If someone guesses right, I'll admit it.
Word Count: 1.869
Beta: asm_z
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real.
~+~
In the beginning he didn't know, because how could he?
~+~
The panther is looking down. Under him, the surface of the pool is pale blue and the tiger isn't paying much attention to anything. The panther isn't sure he knows the tiger, he should, maybe. The tiger is the only living thing in the area -except the plants, of course. It's curiosity that makes him jump from one balcony to the next, until he breaks the surface of the water with a soft splash. Of course that's enough to get the tiger’s attention. He doesn't feel the change, it's not a rippling of his skin, it doesn’t hurt, it just is. When he surfaces the water, Gabe is sitting on the edge of the pool, looking down at him.
“You're a total mess,” Gabe says with a smile.
“Look who's talking,” William answers, sitting down next to Gabe, watching the surface of the pool calm down again. His feet are dangling in the water. (It's a paradox of a dream that it still works.) “I like when you're here.” William adds.
“I know.”
The next thing - and it's really sudden, like it always is - is William lying naked on the floor, a girl above him. He can't see much of her, just her hands, her dark hair and when he looks a bit closer, her lips, worshipping skin. William is a writhing, sweaty mess.
He shouldn't look beautiful, but he does.
~+~
Ryan wakes hard and aching for someone, maybe that girl. He doesn't like to think about it too much. He remembers her hands and her lips around William's cock and it makes him feel guilty. Like it usually does.
He wonders if William feels guilty for dreaming about a girl he doesn't know, since he's with someone. Maybe he saw her on the street, maybe she is just a picture on the internet, a face in the crowd.
Maybe, but it's not the same, he...but it's not like he can control it anyway. He turns around and tries to fall asleep again.
~+~
He can't really pinpoint the day it started. For a long time, he thought they were his dreams; just his stupid, not so ordinary, dreams.
The day he figured things out was sometime around his eighteenth birthday, because Pete was blogging about a dream he had and he had the same dream. Like exactly the same.
He learned that Pete doesn't tell anyone about the really scary and fucked up dreams. Maybe he wouldn't either if he was in Pete's place.
Somehow he is.
~+~
The white corridor always makes his skin crawl. It makes Pete's skin crawl as well. He always looks so much smaller in those dreams. Pete is the only thing that has colour, but he is not the only living thing. The corridor is inhabited with life, evil, white life. Nurses and doctors without faces, but still talking. Patients bleeding white blood on the white floor of the corridor. There are no doors or windows, but it's still too bright and he feels caught. He doesn't try to find out what he's supposed to do here anymore, he just hopes that he wakes up before his clothes lose their colour and his mouth the ability to speak or his brain the urge to form words.
When Pete dreams about the corridor, the scenery never changes like it does in other dreams. He is caught there until he wakes up. They both are. Maybe it would be easier for Pete if he knew that someone else is there too, but he's like a ghost: no one can see him, or hear him or touch him. He can't touch anything either. He can just watch and listen. It's like seeing a movie.
Those dreams creep him out and maybe that's why he and Pete are so alike, maybe Pete's dreams made him. He doesn't know. He doesn't want to either.
~+~
Gerard's dreams are pretty somehow. A bit creepy in places, like something rotten underneath something really sweet, but mostly pretty: full of living things and people. He supposes that's because Gerard looks at things and finds the beauty within. He's an artist after all.
He felt guilty for this too, because a lot of Gerard's dreams involve (what he supposes are) childhood memories. But he got over it, and it's nice to see something so normal, because even when Pete doesn't dream about the corridor, his dreams are pretty weird. He used to dream about girls eating him alive, about music and words cutting him open. Later, he dreamed about music and words and Patrick. (Some of the Patrick dreams are not for under-aged kids.)
It starts with a park or a really old cemetery. He can't tell right away. There are two girls playing with fallen leaves, it's autumn. He can see the barks of the trees above him and in between a blue sky with small clouds. They're obviously sisters, holding hands and skipping along the way. They look pretty young, between twelve and fifteen maybe. Wearing bright scarves, but the rest of their clothes are black: black skirts, black cloaks, black boots and gloves. The older has a hat on her head, it looks nice, they look nice, normal.
He meets them on a clearing where huge trees are obscuring the sky. The girls stop and whisper and then they throw the first handful of leaves. Gerard is maybe sixteen in this dream, not older.
The sky is getting dark when they finally stop and just lie down in the grass, exhausted, happy with red cheeks.
That's when it hits him, it's not really Gerard's dream, it's one of the girl's. They are sharing, but they don't know. He still can't touch, they still aren't aware that he's there too. He looks up into the dark sky and wishes that he will wake up soon.
It happens that he somehow ends up in someone's dream he doesn't know at all. Random strangers. It should be less awkward, but it really isn't. He doesn't like to see wet dreams about people he knows or secret nightmares (he has enough of his own or Pete's for that matter). It always feels like spying. He wishes he could just cut it off.
~+~
He dreamed about Jon before they even met. Well, he didn't really dream about Jon, just stumbled upon Jon's dreams. (He still stumbles into Jon's dreams and it's nice, it always feels safe.) Jon dreams about his cat, about taking photos, about things he's seen on the road, about gigs he's been to, about singing with Brendon and being the hero in a Disney movie (usually with Brendon or William as the heroin). It always makes him grin when he sees Brendon or William. Jon's dreams are just too funny.
~+~
It stops for a while after the thing with Keltie, but just because he can't sleep properly.
The first time it happens again (after) is when he stays at Brendon's in the unfurnished guest room with Spencer. He doesn't care that he has to share a mattress with Spencer; they’ve done it before. He always shared stuff with Spencer or, well, Spencer shared stuff with him. It's comforting.
It's not Spencer's dream, he knows that much immediately. (He hasn’t shared Spencer's dreams yet, and he's been sharing dreams with people for years now.) The scenery is dreamy (ha!), but kind of familiar too. He's seen it before when he was awake.
“It's just...” Brendon says to, well, him, but not him, handing him a glass. Yes, Ryan thinks, that's Brendon’s stupid kitchen, but also his mom's kitchen and that cupboard there that is the one from his first shitty apartment. He doesn't pay attention for a few moments and as he turns around again, Brendon is gone and he's alone with himself. It's weird. He has never been alone with himself before; he never was in a dream with himself either. Seemed like no one dreamed about him. (Maybe Spencer did, but he can't be sure, he never shared Spencer's dreams.)
“So,” Ryan says and he takes a deep breath.
“Okay, I'm crazy, right? All the dreams I shared with Pete are getting to me...” he answers, sitting down on a chair, it's one of the old ones from Brendon's first apartment.
“Maybe...” Ryan answers, leaning on the counter.
“I totally am. I'm calling a shrink as soon as I wake up.”
“You could...but he will hardly believe you.” Ryan is drinking from his glass, it's something dark red. “It's not virgin blood, for god's sake!”
“I didn't think that.” He answers. Ryan smirks. Of course he was thinking that. “So, why am I here? In Brendon’s dream?”
“Stupid you.” Ryan says.
“What?” He is confused, he thought it would be a bit easier to have a conversation with yourself. Apparently it's not.
“I said...”
“Stupid you. I know.” He interrupts. “Not helping much.”
“It's not Brendon's dream.” Ryan says, sipping the red juice.
“If it's not his, well...oh.”
“Yes, oh.” Ryan answers nodding.
“So, Brendon is sharing my dream? Or am I dreaming about Brendon?”
“What does it matter?” Ryan wants to know.
~+~
He wakes curled up to Spencer, breathing him in. He keeps his eyes closed and tries to breathe flat and regularly.
“I know you're not sleeping.” Spencer says.
“I dreamed about Brendon.”
“I don't want to know.”
“Not that.” Ryan says, slapping Spencer's arm lightly.
“Still don't want to know.”
“Jon is in love with Brendon...” Ryan blurts out.
“What?”
“He's always dreaming about singing with Brendon...”
“I'm dreaming about singing with Brendon,” It's because Spencer is his best friend that he doesn't ask stupid questions like how Ryan knows that particular piece of information.
“So, you're in love with Brendon too?” It isn't really a question. Ryan has it all figured out now.
“Hell no!” Spencer says in a harsh whisper.
“What does it mean then?”
“You just want to know what it means for you.” Spencer answers.
“That I'm in love with Brendon?”
“Since the first day you saw his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid glasses.” Spencer says.
“I'm serious here.”
“Yeah, so am I.” Spencer says, hugging Ryan closer to his chest.
“Is he in love with me?”
“Since the first day he saw your stupid hair and stupid guitar and heard your stupid voice.”
“Oh, okay.” Ryan says, his fingers playing with Spencer's shirt. “What's with Jon?”
“He just wants to sing with Brendon and dress him in stupid Disney costumes. And maybe fuck William - I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Oh, right.” It's because Spencer is his best friend that he doesn't ask how Spencer could possibly know that piece of information. “It explains so much.”
“I thought you knew.” Spencer says softly.
“I should.”
“You know now.”
“Yeah.”
~end~
Author: alles_luege
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: PG -13
Summary: Ryan is sharing other people's dreams and some of them creep him out a lot, others just make him feel guilty.
Those dreams creep him out and maybe that's why he and Pete are so alike, maybe Pete's dreams made him. He doesn't know.
Warning(s): mentions of sex
Author's Notes: I really had one of those. If someone guesses right, I'll admit it.
Word Count: 1.869
Beta: asm_z
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real.
~+~
In the beginning he didn't know, because how could he?
~+~
The panther is looking down. Under him, the surface of the pool is pale blue and the tiger isn't paying much attention to anything. The panther isn't sure he knows the tiger, he should, maybe. The tiger is the only living thing in the area -except the plants, of course. It's curiosity that makes him jump from one balcony to the next, until he breaks the surface of the water with a soft splash. Of course that's enough to get the tiger’s attention. He doesn't feel the change, it's not a rippling of his skin, it doesn’t hurt, it just is. When he surfaces the water, Gabe is sitting on the edge of the pool, looking down at him.
“You're a total mess,” Gabe says with a smile.
“Look who's talking,” William answers, sitting down next to Gabe, watching the surface of the pool calm down again. His feet are dangling in the water. (It's a paradox of a dream that it still works.) “I like when you're here.” William adds.
“I know.”
The next thing - and it's really sudden, like it always is - is William lying naked on the floor, a girl above him. He can't see much of her, just her hands, her dark hair and when he looks a bit closer, her lips, worshipping skin. William is a writhing, sweaty mess.
He shouldn't look beautiful, but he does.
~+~
Ryan wakes hard and aching for someone, maybe that girl. He doesn't like to think about it too much. He remembers her hands and her lips around William's cock and it makes him feel guilty. Like it usually does.
He wonders if William feels guilty for dreaming about a girl he doesn't know, since he's with someone. Maybe he saw her on the street, maybe she is just a picture on the internet, a face in the crowd.
Maybe, but it's not the same, he...but it's not like he can control it anyway. He turns around and tries to fall asleep again.
~+~
He can't really pinpoint the day it started. For a long time, he thought they were his dreams; just his stupid, not so ordinary, dreams.
The day he figured things out was sometime around his eighteenth birthday, because Pete was blogging about a dream he had and he had the same dream. Like exactly the same.
He learned that Pete doesn't tell anyone about the really scary and fucked up dreams. Maybe he wouldn't either if he was in Pete's place.
Somehow he is.
~+~
The white corridor always makes his skin crawl. It makes Pete's skin crawl as well. He always looks so much smaller in those dreams. Pete is the only thing that has colour, but he is not the only living thing. The corridor is inhabited with life, evil, white life. Nurses and doctors without faces, but still talking. Patients bleeding white blood on the white floor of the corridor. There are no doors or windows, but it's still too bright and he feels caught. He doesn't try to find out what he's supposed to do here anymore, he just hopes that he wakes up before his clothes lose their colour and his mouth the ability to speak or his brain the urge to form words.
When Pete dreams about the corridor, the scenery never changes like it does in other dreams. He is caught there until he wakes up. They both are. Maybe it would be easier for Pete if he knew that someone else is there too, but he's like a ghost: no one can see him, or hear him or touch him. He can't touch anything either. He can just watch and listen. It's like seeing a movie.
Those dreams creep him out and maybe that's why he and Pete are so alike, maybe Pete's dreams made him. He doesn't know. He doesn't want to either.
~+~
Gerard's dreams are pretty somehow. A bit creepy in places, like something rotten underneath something really sweet, but mostly pretty: full of living things and people. He supposes that's because Gerard looks at things and finds the beauty within. He's an artist after all.
He felt guilty for this too, because a lot of Gerard's dreams involve (what he supposes are) childhood memories. But he got over it, and it's nice to see something so normal, because even when Pete doesn't dream about the corridor, his dreams are pretty weird. He used to dream about girls eating him alive, about music and words cutting him open. Later, he dreamed about music and words and Patrick. (Some of the Patrick dreams are not for under-aged kids.)
It starts with a park or a really old cemetery. He can't tell right away. There are two girls playing with fallen leaves, it's autumn. He can see the barks of the trees above him and in between a blue sky with small clouds. They're obviously sisters, holding hands and skipping along the way. They look pretty young, between twelve and fifteen maybe. Wearing bright scarves, but the rest of their clothes are black: black skirts, black cloaks, black boots and gloves. The older has a hat on her head, it looks nice, they look nice, normal.
He meets them on a clearing where huge trees are obscuring the sky. The girls stop and whisper and then they throw the first handful of leaves. Gerard is maybe sixteen in this dream, not older.
The sky is getting dark when they finally stop and just lie down in the grass, exhausted, happy with red cheeks.
That's when it hits him, it's not really Gerard's dream, it's one of the girl's. They are sharing, but they don't know. He still can't touch, they still aren't aware that he's there too. He looks up into the dark sky and wishes that he will wake up soon.
It happens that he somehow ends up in someone's dream he doesn't know at all. Random strangers. It should be less awkward, but it really isn't. He doesn't like to see wet dreams about people he knows or secret nightmares (he has enough of his own or Pete's for that matter). It always feels like spying. He wishes he could just cut it off.
~+~
He dreamed about Jon before they even met. Well, he didn't really dream about Jon, just stumbled upon Jon's dreams. (He still stumbles into Jon's dreams and it's nice, it always feels safe.) Jon dreams about his cat, about taking photos, about things he's seen on the road, about gigs he's been to, about singing with Brendon and being the hero in a Disney movie (usually with Brendon or William as the heroin). It always makes him grin when he sees Brendon or William. Jon's dreams are just too funny.
~+~
It stops for a while after the thing with Keltie, but just because he can't sleep properly.
The first time it happens again (after) is when he stays at Brendon's in the unfurnished guest room with Spencer. He doesn't care that he has to share a mattress with Spencer; they’ve done it before. He always shared stuff with Spencer or, well, Spencer shared stuff with him. It's comforting.
It's not Spencer's dream, he knows that much immediately. (He hasn’t shared Spencer's dreams yet, and he's been sharing dreams with people for years now.) The scenery is dreamy (ha!), but kind of familiar too. He's seen it before when he was awake.
“It's just...” Brendon says to, well, him, but not him, handing him a glass. Yes, Ryan thinks, that's Brendon’s stupid kitchen, but also his mom's kitchen and that cupboard there that is the one from his first shitty apartment. He doesn't pay attention for a few moments and as he turns around again, Brendon is gone and he's alone with himself. It's weird. He has never been alone with himself before; he never was in a dream with himself either. Seemed like no one dreamed about him. (Maybe Spencer did, but he can't be sure, he never shared Spencer's dreams.)
“So,” Ryan says and he takes a deep breath.
“Okay, I'm crazy, right? All the dreams I shared with Pete are getting to me...” he answers, sitting down on a chair, it's one of the old ones from Brendon's first apartment.
“Maybe...” Ryan answers, leaning on the counter.
“I totally am. I'm calling a shrink as soon as I wake up.”
“You could...but he will hardly believe you.” Ryan is drinking from his glass, it's something dark red. “It's not virgin blood, for god's sake!”
“I didn't think that.” He answers. Ryan smirks. Of course he was thinking that. “So, why am I here? In Brendon’s dream?”
“Stupid you.” Ryan says.
“What?” He is confused, he thought it would be a bit easier to have a conversation with yourself. Apparently it's not.
“I said...”
“Stupid you. I know.” He interrupts. “Not helping much.”
“It's not Brendon's dream.” Ryan says, sipping the red juice.
“If it's not his, well...oh.”
“Yes, oh.” Ryan answers nodding.
“So, Brendon is sharing my dream? Or am I dreaming about Brendon?”
“What does it matter?” Ryan wants to know.
~+~
He wakes curled up to Spencer, breathing him in. He keeps his eyes closed and tries to breathe flat and regularly.
“I know you're not sleeping.” Spencer says.
“I dreamed about Brendon.”
“I don't want to know.”
“Not that.” Ryan says, slapping Spencer's arm lightly.
“Still don't want to know.”
“Jon is in love with Brendon...” Ryan blurts out.
“What?”
“He's always dreaming about singing with Brendon...”
“I'm dreaming about singing with Brendon,” It's because Spencer is his best friend that he doesn't ask stupid questions like how Ryan knows that particular piece of information.
“So, you're in love with Brendon too?” It isn't really a question. Ryan has it all figured out now.
“Hell no!” Spencer says in a harsh whisper.
“What does it mean then?”
“You just want to know what it means for you.” Spencer answers.
“That I'm in love with Brendon?”
“Since the first day you saw his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid glasses.” Spencer says.
“I'm serious here.”
“Yeah, so am I.” Spencer says, hugging Ryan closer to his chest.
“Is he in love with me?”
“Since the first day he saw your stupid hair and stupid guitar and heard your stupid voice.”
“Oh, okay.” Ryan says, his fingers playing with Spencer's shirt. “What's with Jon?”
“He just wants to sing with Brendon and dress him in stupid Disney costumes. And maybe fuck William - I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Oh, right.” It's because Spencer is his best friend that he doesn't ask how Spencer could possibly know that piece of information. “It explains so much.”
“I thought you knew.” Spencer says softly.
“I should.”
“You know now.”
“Yeah.”
~end~