Chapter Twenty Six
"It's been thirty two minutes!" Brendon whined and flopped himself back on the couch. "He's not coming! I toldyou he hates me!"
"Quit wailing," Spencer said. "He'll be here in a minute, cool your shit."
"Here how things are going to go," Brendon said. "He's going to come in, rip my face off, leave, then run over my face with a pickup truck."
"That's what we agreed on," Spencer said teasingly.
"Not funny, Spence!" Brendon called over his shoulder and he made his way to the kitchen. Brendon jumped almost a foot in the air when he heard a knock at the door. He turned around and ran toward Spencer. "He's here!" he whispered in Spencer's ear and clutched his arm painfully. "Answer it!" he whispered harshly as his fingernails began to dig further into Spencer's arm.
"Why don't you answer it?" Spencer asked Brendon, shrugging him off and rubbing the reddened half moon nail indentions etched into his skin. "Kidding," Spencer said, smiling. "I'll get it."
Brendon bounced on the balls of his feet, not sure what to do with his hands or how he should be standing. Then, he rushed over to the couch, trying out several quick attempts to appear cavalier, unsure how to sit. At a last resort, he bolted into the bedroom just as Spencer opened the door.
"Hey, Ry!" Spencer greeted Ryan and pulled him in for a hug.
"What was that?" Ryan asked Spencer, referring to the blur running into the bedroom.
"Just Brendon. He thinks you're gonna run over his face," Spencer said casually, closing the door behind Ryan. "Brendon, come out here! He's not gonna run over your face!" he yelled into the bedroom.
"We'll just have see how the day plays out," Ryan said with a smile.
Brendon raked his fingers over his hair, attempting to make it flat and not like an animal has been living in it for the past three weeks. He blew a breath in his hand and sniffed: not completely repulsive. He straightened his clothes and stepped into the living room. He saw Ryan's smile fall. His gut did a back flip.
"Look, there's the couch!" Spencer said, noticing the awkwardness starting to fill the air. "We started writing but they all, erm..." he trailed off, gesturing to the crumpled pieces of paper surrounding the couch and coffee table.
"So," Brendon said, clapping his hands together and stepping further into the room. "Let's get to it." He flicked off a balled page and took a seat on the coffee table.
"Right," Ryan said quietly. He sat down on the couch, determined to sit the farthest away from Brendon while still being on the couch.
"Catch," Spencer said before tossing a soda to Ryan and sitting down on the couch, opposite Ryan. Ryan caught the can and set it down on the coffee table next to Brendon's foot. Spencer cracked open his can and slurped out a mouthful.
"Welp!" Brendon said, slapping his hands on his knees. "This is awkward!" He beamed at Ryan, earning a small smile from him. Ryan grabbed his soda from the table and popped it open. The carbonated beverage exploded, sending a jet of caramel colored fizz upward, coming down and splashing onto Ryan. The soda fountained, coating his pants and jacket and splashing onto his scarf.
"I'll go get some towels," Spencer said before running into the bedroom.
"You need a shirt, or something?" Brendon asked, trying not to laugh.
"No, it's fine. It only got on..." Ryan looked down, "everything," he finished with a small laugh. He peeled off his jacket and twisted the scarf from around his neck.
"Here, give me those," Brendon said, holding his hands out to take the sopping clothing.
"No, It's fine. I'll just," Ryan looked around for a place to put them, "hold them, I guess."
Brendon rolled his eyes and took the jacket and scarf. He dug around under the kitchen sink and pulled out a plastic shopping bag. He tossed in the messy clothes and tied it shut with a knot. He grabbed a roll of paper towels before heading back to the couch. "There," Brendon said holding the bag out to Ryan. He ripped off a few squares of the towels and offered them, too, to Ryan. He ripped off a few more to sop up the puddle of liquid from the floor.
"What happened to the coffee table?" Ryan asked, patting his jeans with the paper towels. The table was titled slightly from the umbrella duct taped to form a makeshift table leg.
Brendon laughed. "Not sure," he answered, smiling up at Ryan. Ryan bit his lip and joined Brendon on the floor to help clean up the puddle.
"It's weird being back here," Ryan said looking around. Nostalgia washed over him as his eyes bounced over the apartment. Memories of their relationship rushed back. All the horrible meals they had eaten at the kitchen table after Ryan had tried to cook. The late movie nights they had snuggled up in each other's arms on the couch. The end table Ryan would always bump into on their way to the bedroom. He couldn't even bear to think about the things they did in the bedroom. And the kitchen counters. The coffee table. The couch. And almost every inch of floor in the living room. Nowhere was safe. Ryan shook his head and snapped up to walk to the trash can to throw the soaking towels away. Brendon soon joined him at the trash can.
"I got a new microwave," Brendon said gesturing to the small silver appliance.
"Did you break the last one?" Ryan asked, allowing a small smile to play across his lips.
"No!" Brendon interjected. "It just didn't work very well after I kept putting forks in it."
"So you broke it," Ryan laughed out.
"They should include that in the manual," Brendon said, shoving his hands in his pockets and grinning at Ryan.
"I'm pretty sure they do," Ryan said, laughing a bit harder now.
"They should write it in bigger letters," Brendon said, laughing along with Ryan.
Ryan couldn't help but reminisce. He had missed the laughs he and Brendon shared. Their inside jokes. He missed just being around Brendon in general. Suddenly embarrassed by his memories, he turned his smile to the ground, hoping he wasn't blushing as much as he felt he was. "Wasn't the last one a house warming gift from the landlord?"
"Oh, yeah. He won''t be too happy about that."
"You got a new phone too?" Ryan asked, pointing to the tiny red cell sitting on the counter.
Brendon laughed. "That's the third one in two years. The phone company wasn't very happy with me either."
"I think I maybe might have flushed the first out of the three," Ryan said, smirking.
"Yeah, Spencer told me," said Brendon, directing his smile to the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. More awkward silence took over. Where the hell was Spencer? Brendon cleared his throat, back to business, he supposed. "We haven't written much but you can have a look if you'd like," Brendon said, gesturing back to the couch and scattered papers.
"Yeah, sure," Ryan said, nodding.
"I wrote one almost all the way through," Brendon said, searching for the paper ball as they took opposite sides of the couch. They each sat cross legged, facing each other with their backs resting on the generously padded arms of the couch. "You wanna hear 'The Taco Song'?" he beamed at Ryan.
"Oh, um," Ryan hesitated, remembering what Spencer had said about the song. "Not really." Ryan laughed.
"Did Spencer tell you about it?" Brendon asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Um, yeah," Ryan said, finishing with a giggle. He turned his gaze to the floor and seized a random paper wad. "Bren?"
"Yeah?" Brendon snapped his head upward to look at Ryan, hoping he would bring up the night he left so he could explain everything.
"This one just has a picture of a giraffe." Ryan held out the picture in the space between them.
"His name is Spiffy," Brendon said smiling. He scooted closer to Ryan, almost fully closing the distance between them. He took hold of the paper and held it above Ryan's lap, allowing him to crane his neck next to have the same view as Ryan. "It took me almost twenty minutes to get the spots right." He pointed to each one of the spots.
"Why's he so sad?" Ryan asked, touching his finger to the giraffes frown.
"Because his best friend, Gary the antelope, left without saying good bye," Brendon said quietly, the smile quickly fading from his lips.
Ryan closed his eyes. "Brendon, I-"
"Are you hungry?" Brendon asked, jumping to his feet and running towards the kitchen. He wanted to explain. He wanted to apologize. But he didn't want Ryan to leave. Not yet. Not ever. Brendon had missed him terribly. He wanted to hold on to him for as long as he could. Brendon buried his head in the fridge. "Ooh! Hot Cheetos! But who put them in the fridge?" he pondered as he recovered the open bag from the fridge. "Want one?" He held the bag out for Ryan.
"They're probably stale."
"Even better! They're delicious when they're stale!" Brendon reached in and popped a couple in his mouth. "Oh. Definitely notdelicious cold and stale." he said while chewing. He scowled and dropped the bag into the trash can. "Have you ever had a chocolate covered hot dog?" Brendon asked on the way back to the couch.
"Do those even exist?" Ryan said, eyebrows raised.
"Probably not,"Brendon stuck out his lips in a pout. "That's a shame. Sounds good."
"That sounds disgusting," Ryan said, the smile reappearing on his face.
Brendon gasped. "Quick, get a pen! I think I have something."
Ryan scrambled for a pen and scribbled on the back of Spiffy to make sure it was working. "OK, go," he stated, the pen poised over the paper, ready to scribble an entire symphony if necessary.
The words flew before Brendon. All he had to do was capture them. "Ever Since we met," he sang, staring at Ryan, "I only shoot up with your perfume; it's the only thing that makes me feel as good as you do..." He trailed off, cutting the serenade short.
Ryan cut his eyes from the page to Brendon's. The lyrics surrounded Ryan. The velvety words whirled around him, stirring suppressed emotions. It hurt, yet he didn't want Brendon to stop singing. He wanted Brendon to keep going, singing only for him. "Now we only need about a ton more lyrics," Ryan said, his eyes downward at the paper.
"Ryan!" Brendon exclaimed, gripping both of Ryan's hands in his, knocking the pen and paper to the floor. His face brightened with the smile painted across his face. "You're my muse! My inspiration! Promise you'll never leave me again!" His eyes stared into Ryan's.
"Bren," Ryan withdrew his stare and slid his hands from Brendon's. "Stop."
"Right. Sorry. Only joking," Brendon added before prying his eyes away from Ryan. He rubbed the back of his neck, and stole a glance of Ryan. He was staring down at the lyrics on the page that had fallen on the couch betwixt them, his cheeks tinted pink. Brendon smirked to himself. He had missed how embarrassed Ryan could get. He remembered all the things they got away with doing in public. Restaurants. Clothing stores. The gym. Ryan's face would always be the shade of ripened tomatoes.
"We still need more on the chorus," Ryan said after almost an hour of collaborating. "It doesn't feel finished."
"I could get out The Taco Song back out!" Brendon offered as he paced the floor behind the couch.
"No!" Ryan shouted unintentionally, throwing his hands out as if to stop an oncoming truck. "Not The Taco Song," he said, at a normal volume this time. Brendon's face fell and he continued pacing. Ryan draped his arms over the back of the couch, tapping the couch's back fabric with the blunt side of the pen. "Wait!" Ryan shouted, taking hold of Brendon's hand. "Ever since we met, I've got one regret to live through, and that one regret is you," he sang to Brendon. Ryan's cheeks flushed pink, but he held the stare.
"Listen, Ry. Let me explain everything," Brendon pleaded, squeezing Ryan's hand in his. He gave up on waiting for the perfect timing. He needed to let it out, and it was now or never.
"No, it's fine. Let's just forget it. Just pretend we never happened." Ryan withdrew his hand and turning on the couch to have his back facing Brendon. "There's nothing to say."
"There's everything to say! I can't just forget about you! About us. Even if I could, I wouldn't want to. Just hear me out," Brendon began. He came around to sit beside Ryan on the couch. "That day I told you backstage about Sarah being gone, that was all true. And when I told you the day you left that nothing happened when she came over, that was true too. I've never lied to you, Ry." He placed a finger under Ryan's chin and lifted it, making Ryan's eyes meet his. "I meant everything I said that night. I do love you" Brendon finished. He joined their lips together softly. Their lips melded together. Memories came rushing back.
"I'm sorry, I can't," Ryan said, pulling away with a pained expression, leaving Brendon's lips with a soft smacking sound. "I won't let you play with me like this anymore."
"What are you talking about? No one is playing!" Brendon half-shouted, his words laced with hurt. "Didn't you just hear what I said?"
"I heard you," Ryan stated flatly.
"Sorry, but I don't see the problem here."
"Aren't you still dating Sarah?" Ryan asked, his eyes boring into Brendon's.
Brendon's mouth opened and closed quickly, searching for the right words to say. Brendon had learned to deal with Sarah over time. He even grew to like her. 'Like' as in being able to be within a few feet of her and not have the urge to regurgitate everything he's ever eaten. Being with her made Brendon feel somewhat normal, like he wasn't harboring deep suppressed feeling for his ex band mate. He knew she wasn't going away any time soon, anyway. Once she got over the whole stalker bitch thing, she was even sometimes somewhat semi-nice to talk to. She wouldn't exactly fill the spot as 'girlfriend' but Brendon would rather suffer through a few minutes on the phone with her fangirling over his life than to have her stalking and wrecking it.
Ryan forced another smile. "Some people never change."
"I have changed! I've got a haircut! I just..." Brendon pleaded and tugged at his fluffy brown locks. "I've changed, I swear I have!"
"It's OK," Ryan shook his head and forced his lips to maintain the smile he had plastered so painfully on his face. "You don't have to explain. I want you to be happy. And if that means you being with someone else to be, then so be it," he finished with a shrug and turned his attention to the floor.
"But don't you see?" Brendon asked quietly and his thumb along Ryan's jaw line, bringing his eyes to meet Brendon's. "I'm happiest with you." He went in to set a kiss upon Ryan's lips but got his cheek as Ryan turned away.
"I'm sorry, Brendon," Ryan said. "I just really can't. Not anymore." He rose from the couch and turned to the door. Ryan cross the room swiftly, almost breaking out into a run in a desperate attempt to hide the tears that were now streaming down his cheeks. He slammed the door behind him and escaped into the elevator, mashing the button to bring him to the lobby. He recalled the last time he was running from Brendon. Nothing had changed since then. He was still a dumb boy in stupid love with an even more dumb and stupid boy. Tears rolled off his chin and fell onto his shirt. He bit back a sob and exited into the lobby.
"At least you don't have a bloody nose," Spencer said, finally appearing from inside the bedroom.
"Yeah," Brendon said, jumping off the couch and padding into the kitchen. Ryan may as well have gave him a bloody nose, in fact Brendon would have preferred it. Brendon was exhausted. He was too weak to chase him this time. He pulled himself up to sit on the counter. He stared at the door Ryan had just slammed shut. Half of him expected Ryan would burst in screaming "Just kidding!" It still hurt. It hurt just as much as the first time he'd left, if not more. Like it was an old, scabbed over wound and someone had ripped off the bandage along with the protective layer of scab and opened it again. His heart ached at the thought of him never being able told hold Ryan in his arms again.
There it is. It took me in all four days to write it because it was just so damn emotional for me! It's so emotionally draining to be a fangirl these days! Now I'm off to blast sad music and cry into my pillow pet for the nest week. I Could Learn to Miss You is now complete. ~Ember