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“You’re hard right now; you know that, right?”
There was a moment of silence, the kind that could cut the air in a second, completely killing the mood.
That was never a problem for them, though, or at least Ryan didn’t see it that way.
His voice was coated in saccharine, a light and whispering tone that knew just how to get under Brendon’s skin.
The younger boy let out a small noise; maybe it was a confirmation of the accusation, or maybe it was just sheer pleasure seeking more.
Ryan slowly brought his hands to Brendon’s waist, holding it ever so gently; he didn’t want to hurt him.
The other looked up at him, his brown eyes more dilated than usual and begging for attention.
“I know.”
He responded in a whisper; it was louder than Ryan, though, with desperation seeping through the two otherwise simple words spoken.
“Do you want me?”
Brendon moved his arms to wrap them around Ryan’s shoulders, the light in his eyes shining brightly through the darkness within the room.
“More than anything, please, Ryan.”
He said, gripping onto the older boy tighter, almost as if he’d break if let go.
Ryan let out a heavy breath, squeezing Brendon’s waist and moving his hands down to the waistband of his boxers.
But he stopped; he pulled his hands away, almost as if he was hesitant, not wanting to cause the other any more pain than he already had.
“Last time you said you weren’t sure.”
Brendon scooted closer on Ryan’s lap, reaching a hand to his face and caressing the side gently.
“I didn’t mean that.”
Ryan’s eyes met the other’s in an instant; he stared into them blankly, a narrowed stare that only seemed to pierce directly into Brendon’s heart.
The younger boy quickly moved his hand away.
It was an icy stare, one that seemed to reflect throughout the room, causing an unnerving chill to settle inside his body, which then slowly rose into his head, numbing it in an instant.
Before now, it felt like any time he and Ryan were together, together like this, everything else disappeared.
The broken promises, the secrets that were unbeknownst to them, everything.
Now it was on the surface, suffocating the air around them with a million burning thoughts and questions.
But Ryan’s gaze never changed, somehow finding a way to worsen.
That simple pierce slowly morphed into an agonizing ache inside his chest.
“I’m sorry.”
Brendon responded, stated, and pleaded.
His voice was raspy as tears crept into his eyes.
Ryan’s grip on the younger boy’s waist started to loosen, his fingers no longer touching the bare skin that only wanted more.
“I love you, Ryan. I really do.”
“Then why’d you say that you weren’t sure about this? About us?”
He snapped back in an instant, his tone painted with nothing but anger.
Somewhere in that anger there was nothing.
“Because I was scared, and you know I’m…”
He took a deep breath, glancing away from Ryan for a second before meeting his eyes again.
“I’m stupid.”
The tears started to flow down his cheeks, his breathing getting heavier again.
He looked away; he couldn’t look Ryan in the eyes; he didn’t know what to say to make it better.
The older boy’s hands moved up, wrapping around Brendon’s back and pulling him close.
“Aren’t we both?”
He replied, staring off into the darkness that filled the other side of the room.
Brendon couldn’t respond; he buried his face deeper in Ryan’s chest, soaking his shirt with immense pain.
Ryan laid back just a little, allowing the other to lie on him better, the air strained with a numbness that could only work to kill.
He rubbed Brendon’s back, trying his best to comfort him.
He didn’t know what he wanted; he didn’t even know what that concept would mean for himself.
“We don’t have to do anything.”
Brendon’s head snapped up, staring at him with glossy eyes.
“But I want to.”
Ryan sighed, putting a hand on the younger boy’s head, caressing his hair.
“You’re crying, Bren.”
“But don’t you want to?”
“Who cares what I want?”
“I do!”
Brendon responded, louder than he thought he would.
“You don’t need that; that’s the last thing you need, Brendon.”
Brendon started to grab at him, wanting to make him happy.
He couldn’t; he didn’t understand that.
Ryan tried to push him off a bit; Brendon was persistent.
“Please, Ry, just touch me.”
Brendon asked, begged, and cried.
“It’s late, Bren.”
Ryan responded, his eyes dull.
“Am I not good enough?”
Ryan knew he was guilty.
“You’re perfect.”
There wasn’t anything there.
“Then why don’t you want to?”
Ryan knew he was insecure.
“I don’t think you’re in the right mental state for that.”
He knew that Brendon didn’t mean anything to him past sex.
“You said you didn’t care about that.”
Ryan knew that he wasn’t a good person.
“This is different.”
Brendon looked at him, his eyes filled with the deepest hurt possible.
“What makes it different?”
Ryan knew he couldn’t lie for too much longer.
There are fragments of things they could be, pieces that would never connect because the older boy was selfish.
Pleasure was nothing to Brendon if he could just hold him differently.
Ryan knew that he was useless beyond pleasure.
“We can go to sleep and forget all about this.”
Brendon didn’t respond; he was just lying against Ryan’s chest, emptiness crowding his eyes.
Ryan knew that he was right where he wanted him to be.