It's been such a bloody fucking long time since I updated I'm afraid that you guys think I have given up on the story. This not the case. I got banned from the website. So um ja, they're letting me post my stuff up apparently, so here's the much needed part 9. Warning: A lot of Angst . Ryco Tension, Jake and Dylan arguing, and some…ugh, Marco and Dylan love. Oh, and some more angst. So read to your hearts desire, I miss writing this story so much.
Chapter 9: Reprimand On Demand (With Subtle After Effects)
When Marco comes back into the apartment Ryan is asleep on the couch, hands folded behind his head, and features calm and relaxed. The phone lies next to him, receiver off the hook. The dull sound of the beep, beep, beep, in the background makes Marco cringe as he walks over and gently places the phone on the hook. His eyes linger over Ryan's sleeping body, and you can see his shirt rise slightly enough to show some skin around his stomach. He wants to lean down and touch it, or kiss him, or do something, but he doesn't and instead stares at him for a little while longer , letting the darkness and the silence comfort him.
"You know, you should really use that bleach…." Ryan whispers and Marco jumps back, tripping over the table, at Ryan's voice. In a flash he's got his arms wrapped around Ryan's waist, and his chest buried into his nose and he's crying and Ryan doesn't want him to cry because it wasn't supposed to fucking happen like that. But Marco isn't crying for the reasons Ryan thinks he is, and tries to say something, anything, to fix whatever the hell had just happened.
"Rye-"
"Ahe-"
"Yeah." Marco nods, and Ryan lets go of him. Marco falls limply into the couch, inhaling Ryan's scent, and placing his face into the cushion. Maybe if he presses his face against it hard enough he can silence all the pains and worries in his head; make them all go the fuck away for a while, if only a while.
Ryan puts some tea on the stove and turns back to Marco. His hands run over the counter top twice and he looks around the floor to see if he left any crumbs from when he had eaten that pizza that cost a good $7.35 this afternoon since Andy wouldn't have lunch with him today. Looks at Marco face first into the pillow and whispers," Hey, so how was the appointment? How's Dylan?"
"Fine, and fine." Marco murmurs," Extra sugar please."
"Sure." Ryan pulls the sugar from out of the cabinet and bites his lip. Marco is being stubborn. No, Marco isn't being stubborn. He's sick. Marco is sick, and it's dangerous that he's sick of a lot of things, including himself. And being sick of yourself is dangerous. " Did he give you anything to make you feel better-"
"Peppermint tea. It's under the last drawer, right corner." Marco cuts him off again. Tastes the couch and spits into it. Crosses his eyes and scratches his nose with the couch pillow's edge. Marco doesn't feel like being polite to this stranger who always seems to find something wrong as well as perfect within him.
"Yes, Marco." Ryan responds kindly. Reaches in the right corner and gets the peppermint bags. Then turns back to Marco. " I saw the kitchen knife-"
"The pot is whistling." Marco sneers.
Oh yes, the pot was whistling.
Ryan pulls the pot off of the stove and pours the hot substance into Marco's mug. Dumps a shitload of sugar into it, and throws the tea bag in there. Crosses back across the room and sits down next to Marco, holding the cup out. His fingers burn under the scolding hot liquid, but doesn't show it. After Marco takes the cup ( "Oh, fuck! This is hot, Ryan. Could've warned me. Christ!") and Ryan goes back to laying in the couch, ( "Get your ass out of my face."). Silence falls upon them again, cold and long.
The smoke from the tea curls around them, and finally Marco talks. " I went to the doctor with Dylan. Talked politely for a while. Then I left. The knife was my fault, I cleaned it with bleach-"
"I threw it out, don't worry. What about the doctor? You talked politely to him? That's wonderful. Be careful, that tea is hot. Do you want me to get you a towel or a blanket or something?" Ryan sounds like a mother as he fusses over Marco's well being, and it annoys Marco that he can't get this type of attention from Dylan.
"No."
"Okay."
"Stop it."
"What's the matter?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. You and your fucking do good ways. Cut it out."
"I'm sorry."
"No, stop that too! Stop being nice, treat me….treat me-"
"How Dylan treats you?" Ryan's lips curl.
Marco's breath falters. Despite his wishes," Yes." Is the answer he replies with.
"Why should I give you the pleasure? Why, Marco? Tell me what happened between you going to the doctor and you being with Dylan. It's none of my business. So sorry. I'm sorry, okay? I'm not trying to take care of you."
Marco drains the tea from the cup, blows out a hot steam cloud of breath and turns his face back into the couch. He wants to say a lot of things. Say "Keep talking" and "Shut up" and "Go away" and "Please stay" and other things. But his head is hurting and those pills that he popped inside of Dylan's car while they stopped to get gas was making it hard for him to focus on one thing. So all he says is "Thank you." and closes his eyes, breath shaky.
But that's not enough for Ryan.
So Ryan puts on another pot of tea and looks out the window.
Because they both know it's going to be a long conversation.
There's a odd sent inside of the air today, a sticky smell, as Alex brings a brush through his hair in front of the mirror inside of the bathroom. Rory wanders in behind him, bare chested and yawning,. He smiles at Alex, but he can't help but look away, because technically he's pissed with Rory for bringing that heathen into the house as well. Rory blinks a little and murmurs, voice laden with sleep," Someone's not purky."
"When you bring the plague into my house, why the fuck would I?" Alex bites back. Closes his mouth and brushes his hair again, slowly. It often comforted him, brushing his hair. Reminded him of Jake's fingers and how he would run them down his scalp in those nights in which they mourned Remy the most.
Rory knows what Alex is talking about. " Oh, him. Well, you know….Robert is an idiot. And I'm pretty sure that he didn-"
"He fucking did!" Alex cried, turning around. "And you know that he did."
Rory's shoulders slumped." Okay, I did."
"So why did you fuck him?" Alex breathes slowly, squinting his eyes. He turns back around, and inside of the mirror he can see Rory snaking his way over to him and taking the brush from him. Brushes Alex's hair slowly, gently, and Alex hates that he leans into the touch. " It's not that complicated really, I had to get Michael out of the house with Adrian. They're not good together, dangerous even. And I didn't fuc-"
"I don't want to hear the details…."
"Jake is just being stupid."
"You always tell me that, but it never makes me feel any better."
"It should."
"Why?" Alex sneers, turning around to face Rory's chest. Rory was always taller than him, it and often showed when they were close together. He had to look up brushing the hair from his eyes, to frown properly. But, as usual, Rory still had the same amused look on his face that he always did, and that just pissed Alex off even further.
"Because."
Alex hates when Rory starts his one word sentence campaign. " Do I have to drag it out of you?"
"No…"
"I do, don't I?"
"Yes."
"Tell me Rory. Stop being so fucking cryptic."
"Jamie has cancer." Rory states. " That's the answer."
"How does Jamie having--" Alex stopped in mid sentence and looked up into Rory's suddenly glassy red eyes. He's still smiling, however, and brushing his hair. His voice is dry and a little high pitched as he speaks again," Told me a few weeks ago….um….so I think that I'm teaching Michael a lesson by showing him that he doesn't appreciate what he has until it's gone. Hence me doing that. You know I do everything for a reason, and Jamie thinks that it's a wonderful way to get back at Michael for what he's been doing behind Adrian's back."
"Ror-"
"Ah, no tears. Lex, you know I don't like crying, it's a waste of time." He wipes his eyes a little and smirks," And besides, he's not that bad in the bed!"
Alex looks down to the floor and bites his lip. So Rory, being the big bother that he is, pulls his chin back up from the floor and makes him look into his eyes, his sad, dark eyes. You can see all the emotions shimmering at the surface, and it makes Rory look old for a few minutes. Deathly old, and since Rory always had an odd youth about him, Alex is afraid to look at him fully. But he does, because that's what Rory wants. " Let's keep this between you and me for now. I shouldn't have told you in the first place." Alex nods dully, and Rory drops the brush onto the edge of the bathroom sink. He licks his finger and smoothes down a stray strand of unruly hair that was poking up, and pats Alex on the back.
He doesn't flinch.
Doesn't feel much of anything, actually.
For as long as he could remember, just as Rory had been Jake's brother, Jamie had been a brother to him. Jamie was the one who used to kick Rory when Rory wouldn't kick Jake for kicking Michael. Jamie was the one who crossed his eyes so far back that he had to wear glasses for an entire month just so he could get Alex to laugh while he was inside of the hospital when he had broke his leg. Jamie was the one who used to try and sing him to sleep, who introduced him to dancing with his eyes closed at midnight and to chocolate chip pinapple strawberry rocky mix ice cream.
Now Jamie was nothing but a death hazzard.
"Lex…?" Rory whispers out, and Alex has this overwhelming urge to throw up, but holds back. Stares at Rory and pitches forwards into his arms, crying his eyes out like hell. His fingers curled into his skin, and his breath was hot and moist against Rory's skin. It was like a comfort. When they were little he used to crawl into bed besides Rory and sleep on top of his chest. " I don't want him to die….no Ror-"
"He won't….shh….he's not leaving you…." Rory whispers gently, fingering the curls in Alex's hair.
And it was okay, for a while….him and Rory.
But you see, Jake was by the door looking at them, repeating Alex's words from earlier.
Alex was afraid that Jake would leave him, Jake knew this now. Hell, Alex just said it himself. And somehow that made Jake mad, so he decided that it was time to go and visit Dylan again…he'd make him feel better.
Dylan, however, is having a problem of his own. Dylan can't stop thinking about how upset Marco was, and was now looking up ways and pills to cure depression on the internet inside of his office. He wasn't taking any calls, wasn't expecting any visitors. He locked his door and threw his class papers to the corner of the room. His mind was entirely focused on Marco. Matter of fact, he was going to call him right now.
As he dialed the number he knew so well he ached for some odd reason. He couldn't understand why Marco's self destruction was bothering so much. Yes, he caused it. Yes, he was his boyfriend. Yes….he would like to believe that he loved him. But at the moment, it was almost like he needed Marco more than he needed him. And that was sad.
"Just shut the fuck up for a second, god!" A voice snaps, and Dylan recognizes it as Marco's before he returns to the phone. " Hello?"
"Hey babe-"
"No, I'm not….Ryan-….stop it!" Marco cried out suddenly, and the phone is dropped. There's some yelling in the background, and something shattering. " Shit, you broke that….god….you're cleaning it up. Yes, that is my boyfriend on the phone!"
"Marco?"
"Sorry, yes Dylan?"
"How are you feeling?"
"A little sick." Marco whispers out slowly, and he takes his time to breathe. There's a door slamming and he coughs," Had to lock myself inside of the bathroom."
"Why?"
"It's a long story."
"I'd love to hear it."
"Trust me, you don't". Marco's words are cold, so Dylan chooses a new tactic. " Hey, would you like to come to my office, and just….talk for a little while? You and me? Maybe go for lunch…."
"You mean it? I mean, it wouldn't be too much trouble?"
"Never." Dylan says and Marco feels his heart break. "I'll be over in 20 minutes." And hangs up.
After a few minutes of solitude, something Dylan thought he well deserved, the door opened. "Mar-" He stood up, rushing to the door but stopped short when he saw the short cropped black hair. " Jake? What are you doing here?"
"I don't know." Jake sighed out, plopping down onto the couch," I'm selling boy scout cookies sir, they're 3 dollars each, it's for a good cause. My professor is fucking me behind his boyfriend's back, and I have to buy a new stick of eyeliner to make myself look pretty."
"Wow, your sarcasm has reached new highs. Lovely, Jake. But this isn't the time, Marco's coming now-"
"It's always Marco this and Marco that. What about me!" Jake points a finger at himself and swings his legs over the couch. He's obviously still a little drunk, so Dylan softens his voice slightly. Jake tended to say things when he was drunk that Dylan often didn't want to hear.
"Jake…"
"Why don't you just let him kill himself?"
Dylan's eyes grew wide as Jake rambled on," It's gonna fucking happen sooner or later-"
Jake didn't finish the rest of his sentence because Dylan took that moment to slap him clear across the face.
"Shut
the fuck up!" Dylan yelled into his face," I don't know why I fucking
put up with you when you get like this. Just- god, just get the fuck
out of here."
"Make me." Jake whispered, crossing his arms together. He didn't cry, and Dylan hated that Jake was so stubborn that he never saw him cry before. I bet he let Alex see him cry, Dylan though sullenly. And that sent a little pang of want along with jealously through him as he hoisted Jake by the collar of his shirt and literarily dragged him to the door, due to the fact that Jake refused to move himself. " You're just mad because you did this to him!" Jake cried out, and Dylan slammed the door once he was fully out in the hall.
Jake's cold words rung in his ears for a while, and he went back to shuffling papers nervously, afraid that every time he'd see someone move pass the shades in his office. Another 30 minutes of seclusion, and there's a timid, weak knock on the door. Marco peaks his head inside of the door and smiles, making Dylan sick. Because…well, Marco's smile isn't supposed to do that to him.
At least, not anymore.
But Marco has a black eye, and Dylan is worried as he gets up from the chair and engulfs the shorter boy. " What happened?"
Marco looked away," Um, I fell into the door knob, kinda tripped, incept not. More like ran into it." He blushed, looking away from Dylan and sat on the couch," I love how you have your office now. It looks so much better since Jake helped you paint it. He's so adorable, you know. All cover in paint and giggling."
"Yeah…" Dylan trailed off, feeling used as Marco rambled on about Jake. "How is he?"
"A little too drunk." Dylan sighs out of the corner of his mouth, taking Marco's hands within his and smiling sweetly. Like he cared for him and loved him and would die for him on a seconds notice. However, that was all bullshit, and he knew it. He wish Marco knew it, but had a gut wrenching feeling that Marco was too stupid to aknowledge it. "Forget about him, do you want to go out? How about a nice resteraunt. Or maybe we can stay….stay and tal-"
Dylan doesn't finish that sentence because Marco suddenly leans forwards and pressed cold lips up againt his, timid and gentle as always. And well, Dylan hates it. Hates how Marco pulls away and whispers "I'm sorry" to what seems like a thousand times, and how Dylan pulls him back with that knowing smirk and kisses him again, harder, more passionate. Runs his hands through his hair and backs him towards the couch. The table was too primitave, Marco deserved the best. Liked the way Marco's eyes lit up when Dylan placed his hands on the buttons of his shirt and how Marco gasped, closing his eyes when Dylan placed his hands on the zipper of his jeans. Dylan knew all the things Marco liked, and knew how to use that information well.
Should he feel bad that he has Marco on a bloody string?
Marco arches up into his touch, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling a sweaty head against his breathes out, as if he knew what he was thinking, "No."
And that's all Dylan needs before he reaches up with one arm and flicks out the office light.
