Sing Like You Think No Ones Listening (s/a)
Title: Sing Like You Think No Ones Listening
Author: xnovacine_rushx
Rating: Hinted future Ryan/Brendon
Pairing: PG
POV: 3rd
Summary: Short little drabble. Brendon is infatuated with the new kid, but neither of them will talk.
Disclaimer: Nobody is miiine :[
Beta: Sara
Author Notes: Idea just popped in muh head.
Brendon was just standing at his locker, trying to make his damn binder just fit, when the sunlight falling through the skylight disappeared. He glanced up absently, wondering who the hell it was. As far as he knew, there weren't any juniors with a last name after U. There was Wentz, and Williams. . .but they were seniors. Those thoughts were dispelled, and replaced by a blank mind, when Brendon saw who is was. He didn't know the guy, twirling his lock, but he defiantly wanted to. He had deep, brown hair, falling into eyes the color of honey, and a tall, thin frame. His hands were slim, long, and pale. Brendon wondered if he played piano. Or maybe guitar. But with hands those long, bass would be easy. . .
He was snapped out of his musings, when the fucking gorgeous guy slammed his locker shut. Brendon jumped, and the guy turned to him, casting him a guilty look, smiling slightly. Brendon could only grin foolishly back. The boy strode away, melting into the crowd of loud teens, and Brendon sighed, slumping against his locker. Who was this guy? He didn't have a clue, but he knew who would.
"Gabe! Gabriel! Gabanti!" sang Brendon, running into his English class, early for once.
"No Gabanti unless your William," chided Gabe, running his tan hands through said boys hair.
"Yeah," added Spencer, looking up. "You have to be boning Gabe to call him that."
William blushed like a skinny, pretty tomato, and Brendon wondered for the umpteenth time, why he was with Gabe. They were as similar as Mozart (William), and BrokenCyde (Gabe).
"'Sup, Bden?" questioned Gabe, ignoring Spencer.
"I need to know who that tall, skinny guy is!" Brendon almost shouted.
"Um, you mean Bilvy?" asked Jon, coming in.
William blushed again, and ducked behind his hair.
"Nooo," whined Brendon, "The new guy, with the pretty eyes!"
"Oh him!" exclaimed Gabe, and Brendon thought Jackpot! "That is Ryan Ross. Our grade. Doesn't talk, doesn't seem to pay much attention in class, and that's all I know."
Brendon slumped back in his chair, gazing out the window. Ryan Ross.
Brendon's eyes immediately picked out Ryan in lunch. He was sitting in a far corner of the courtyard, the sun making the highlights in his hair stand out, and his skin glow. Brendon sighed dreamily, and his table rolled their eyes.
"Why don't you go talk to him?" asked Jon, nudging Brendon.
"No!" gasped Brendon, "I'll scare him. He looks so fragile. . .like an abused cat."
"Um," said Spencer, "Sure."
"Looks like that freak McCracken is blowing him with his eyes," commented Gabe, looking over to where Bert was perched on his 'special friend', Quinn's, lap, but yet giving Ryan very inviting glances.
Ryan didn't seem to notice, and Brendon breathed a sigh of relief. Bert was fucking insane.
"You really should just go talk to him," William murmured, and everyone looked at him. When William ever did speak, people listened. "If you wait, it might be too late."
Gabe beamed at his boyfriend, hooking an arm around his tiny waist.
"Jesus has spoken," Gabe said solemnly.
"Nah," said Spencer, "Jons more Jesus. William is like. . . Anna Pavlova."
William glared at him, while the rest of the table smirked.
"No seriously, Bill is right," agreed Travis.
Everyone jumped.
"Dude, where the fuck did you come from?" demanded Brendon.
"What can I say, man? I'm a ninja." Travis grinned.
Gabe glared at him, muttering something that sounded like 'more like douchebag.' Gabe hated Travis since he broke up with William, but still kept hitting on him.
"Talk to him!" chanted Jon, and the rest of the table took it up as well.
Brendon shushed them, glancing at Ryan nervously, but he was just staring off into space, smiling slightly.
"I will later," mumbled Brendon, poking at his soggy fries. "When the time is right."
"The right time is now," said William softly.
Brendon sighed.
Ryan was in his French class. Brendon almost had a heartattack when he walked in, and sitting in front of his seat is Ryan. Avoiding his eyes, Brendon slipped into his chair, and put on his glasses. He felt a little embarrassed wearing the red frames now, but he couldn't see his stupid teachers tiny handwriting if he didn't wear them. Ryan wasn't even looking near him, and Brendon pouted slightly. Halfway into the lesson, Ryan furtively pulled out a black journal, flipping it open. Brendon shifted slightly to look inside. From the stanzas, line after line of swooping, neat, script, it appeared to be a poem. Ryan pulled out a black pen, and continued to write. Brendon couldn't tear his eyes away from the graceful movements of Ryan's hand, until Ms. Pope called on him.
"Brendon!" she snapped in her thick accent.
Everyone turned to stare at him, including Ryan, and Brendon quickly looked towards her.
"Yeah? I mean, Oui Madame?
"What is the answer to question number four?"
Brendon gulped, and his eyes unconciously went to Ryan. It took him a second to realize Ryan was proping his notebook up, and had scrawled the answer for Brendon. Brendon looked at her, and smiled.
"Je voudrais une chaussure de cheval s'il vous plaît," he spoke perfectly, and she looked surprised.
"Tre bien.
"Merci.
Brendon mouthed thanks at Ryan, who nodded, smiling slightly. Brendon wondered when he would ever have to ask for a horse shoe in French.
Brendon's heart sped up when he saw Ryan walking outside at the end of the day. He hurried outside, looking around. Ryan was walking over to a man, standing in front of a black car. Brendon took a deep breath.
"Ryan!" he called, "Hey, Ryan!"
Ryan kept walking, completely ignoring him. His stomach sank. Ryan hated him. Ryan reached the man, never looking back, and Brendon's mouth dropped open, when the man lifted his hands, and began to sign with them. Ryan smiled shyly, and began to sign back. The other man laughed. Gabe came up behind him, and the hand that wasn't holding William's, slapped Brendon on the back, as they watched Ryan continue to use sign language to communicate.
"You sure know how to pick 'em. This one might even be quieter than Bill."
Brendon just smiled, and shook his head. He needed to brush up on his sign language.
Author: xnovacine_rushx
Rating: Hinted future Ryan/Brendon
Pairing: PG
POV: 3rd
Summary: Short little drabble. Brendon is infatuated with the new kid, but neither of them will talk.
Disclaimer: Nobody is miiine :[
Beta: Sara
Author Notes: Idea just popped in muh head.
Brendon was just standing at his locker, trying to make his damn binder just fit, when the sunlight falling through the skylight disappeared. He glanced up absently, wondering who the hell it was. As far as he knew, there weren't any juniors with a last name after U. There was Wentz, and Williams. . .but they were seniors. Those thoughts were dispelled, and replaced by a blank mind, when Brendon saw who is was. He didn't know the guy, twirling his lock, but he defiantly wanted to. He had deep, brown hair, falling into eyes the color of honey, and a tall, thin frame. His hands were slim, long, and pale. Brendon wondered if he played piano. Or maybe guitar. But with hands those long, bass would be easy. . .
He was snapped out of his musings, when the fucking gorgeous guy slammed his locker shut. Brendon jumped, and the guy turned to him, casting him a guilty look, smiling slightly. Brendon could only grin foolishly back. The boy strode away, melting into the crowd of loud teens, and Brendon sighed, slumping against his locker. Who was this guy? He didn't have a clue, but he knew who would.
"Gabe! Gabriel! Gabanti!" sang Brendon, running into his English class, early for once.
"No Gabanti unless your William," chided Gabe, running his tan hands through said boys hair.
"Yeah," added Spencer, looking up. "You have to be boning Gabe to call him that."
William blushed like a skinny, pretty tomato, and Brendon wondered for the umpteenth time, why he was with Gabe. They were as similar as Mozart (William), and BrokenCyde (Gabe).
"'Sup, Bden?" questioned Gabe, ignoring Spencer.
"I need to know who that tall, skinny guy is!" Brendon almost shouted.
"Um, you mean Bilvy?" asked Jon, coming in.
William blushed again, and ducked behind his hair.
"Nooo," whined Brendon, "The new guy, with the pretty eyes!"
"Oh him!" exclaimed Gabe, and Brendon thought Jackpot! "That is Ryan Ross. Our grade. Doesn't talk, doesn't seem to pay much attention in class, and that's all I know."
Brendon slumped back in his chair, gazing out the window. Ryan Ross.
Brendon's eyes immediately picked out Ryan in lunch. He was sitting in a far corner of the courtyard, the sun making the highlights in his hair stand out, and his skin glow. Brendon sighed dreamily, and his table rolled their eyes.
"Why don't you go talk to him?" asked Jon, nudging Brendon.
"No!" gasped Brendon, "I'll scare him. He looks so fragile. . .like an abused cat."
"Um," said Spencer, "Sure."
"Looks like that freak McCracken is blowing him with his eyes," commented Gabe, looking over to where Bert was perched on his 'special friend', Quinn's, lap, but yet giving Ryan very inviting glances.
Ryan didn't seem to notice, and Brendon breathed a sigh of relief. Bert was fucking insane.
"You really should just go talk to him," William murmured, and everyone looked at him. When William ever did speak, people listened. "If you wait, it might be too late."
Gabe beamed at his boyfriend, hooking an arm around his tiny waist.
"Jesus has spoken," Gabe said solemnly.
"Nah," said Spencer, "Jons more Jesus. William is like. . . Anna Pavlova."
William glared at him, while the rest of the table smirked.
"No seriously, Bill is right," agreed Travis.
Everyone jumped.
"Dude, where the fuck did you come from?" demanded Brendon.
"What can I say, man? I'm a ninja." Travis grinned.
Gabe glared at him, muttering something that sounded like 'more like douchebag.' Gabe hated Travis since he broke up with William, but still kept hitting on him.
"Talk to him!" chanted Jon, and the rest of the table took it up as well.
Brendon shushed them, glancing at Ryan nervously, but he was just staring off into space, smiling slightly.
"I will later," mumbled Brendon, poking at his soggy fries. "When the time is right."
"The right time is now," said William softly.
Brendon sighed.
Ryan was in his French class. Brendon almost had a heartattack when he walked in, and sitting in front of his seat is Ryan. Avoiding his eyes, Brendon slipped into his chair, and put on his glasses. He felt a little embarrassed wearing the red frames now, but he couldn't see his stupid teachers tiny handwriting if he didn't wear them. Ryan wasn't even looking near him, and Brendon pouted slightly. Halfway into the lesson, Ryan furtively pulled out a black journal, flipping it open. Brendon shifted slightly to look inside. From the stanzas, line after line of swooping, neat, script, it appeared to be a poem. Ryan pulled out a black pen, and continued to write. Brendon couldn't tear his eyes away from the graceful movements of Ryan's hand, until Ms. Pope called on him.
"Brendon!" she snapped in her thick accent.
Everyone turned to stare at him, including Ryan, and Brendon quickly looked towards her.
"Yeah? I mean, Oui Madame?
"What is the answer to question number four?"
Brendon gulped, and his eyes unconciously went to Ryan. It took him a second to realize Ryan was proping his notebook up, and had scrawled the answer for Brendon. Brendon looked at her, and smiled.
"Je voudrais une chaussure de cheval s'il vous plaît," he spoke perfectly, and she looked surprised.
"Tre bien.
"Merci.
Brendon mouthed thanks at Ryan, who nodded, smiling slightly. Brendon wondered when he would ever have to ask for a horse shoe in French.
Brendon's heart sped up when he saw Ryan walking outside at the end of the day. He hurried outside, looking around. Ryan was walking over to a man, standing in front of a black car. Brendon took a deep breath.
"Ryan!" he called, "Hey, Ryan!"
Ryan kept walking, completely ignoring him. His stomach sank. Ryan hated him. Ryan reached the man, never looking back, and Brendon's mouth dropped open, when the man lifted his hands, and began to sign with them. Ryan smiled shyly, and began to sign back. The other man laughed. Gabe came up behind him, and the hand that wasn't holding William's, slapped Brendon on the back, as they watched Ryan continue to use sign language to communicate.
"You sure know how to pick 'em. This one might even be quieter than Bill."
Brendon just smiled, and shook his head. He needed to brush up on his sign language.