Blossoming Flower

graceful_lily @ 2007-08-16T23:20:00

2007-06-21T02:16:46Z

Title: Heartbreak
Rating:R for language
Pairing:Jon/Brendon.
POV:Brendon's
Summary: You'll never forget your first real taste of heartbreak.
Disclaimer: Not real folks

"What about the band?" You asked in that scratchy voice. Clearing your throat and running your big hand through your short hair. I stared at you with my big eyes, the ones you claimed to have loved.

"I dont care." I spat back wanting to hurt you. "Do you think I'm even giving the band any thought at this moment?" I hissed. You just looked down, like I slapped you. I should have slapped you in your face, hard, one fluid motion. I imagined what it would feel like to hurt you, your rough cheek against my palm. The thought made me smile, just slightly.

"Why are you doing this Brendon?" You finally asked, exhausted, like the mere thought of talking to me exhausted you. "Do you even love me anymore?" You asked softly, your eyes looked so big in that moment.

"No." I answered you harshly. "I dont love you anymore Jon, I hate you, I hate everything about you." I told you softly, my voice sharp. After everything you did to me, the nights of waiting for you, of hoping that maybe just once you would pick me, not as your last resort. That moment when you finally crawled in my bunk, burying your face in the crook of my neck, whispering you loved me. The day you cooed on the phone with Cassie, after you told me you ended things with her. The way you played me for a fool, the way I trusted you.

"We can save this." You said looking at me, hopeful. Meeting my dark eyes with your warm ones. My eyes were black, flat, cold. My heart was shattered into a million pieces. You broke my heart, after I was so careful to give it to you.

"I dont want to save anything." I murmured. "I can't even look at you Jon, I can't even stand to be in this room with you without wanting to bash your fucking face in." I said softly, feeling big, fat tears welling up in my eyes. "Its over, please just let me go, let me try and move on." I finally finished, standing up off that worn couch I kept in my living room. I wiped the palms of my shaking hands on my tight jeans. You just leaned against the back of the couch, closing your eyes.

"Do you regret this?" You asked me finally. You looked up at the same time I looked over at you. "Do you wish you never fell in love with me?"

"You don't know how badly I want to yes." I told you shakily. "How badly I want to say I wish I never met you Jon." I told you praying the tears stinging my eyes. "But I just can't." I whispered. "I can't say that without lying."

You went to get up, move towards me, I jerked back, like I was burned. I couldn't do this again, move into your touch, your kiss. I was too betrayed, I was sick of trying to repair something that couldn't be put back together.

"I think you need to go." I mumbled softly, my voice catching in my throat. "Please, just go Jon." I said moving past you, opening the door. You nodded, walked past me. You looked back and I wouldn't meet your eye, kept my head down. Shutting that door was the hardest thing I ever did, shutting you out of my life.

I think about you sometimes, and I think about us, what we could have been. But bleeding you out of my veins, moving you out of my life, was the only way I could have saved myself. I'll never forget that way you kissed me, the way you made me laugh. The way it felt to be in love with you.

You'll never forget that first taste of real heartbreak. The one country songs aspire to, the way it feels to know pain. You'll always be my first real heartbreak.

graceful_lily @ 2007-05-09T20:43:00

2007-03-30T02:59:00Z

Title:Street lights
Rating:NC-17, mentions of prostitution
Pairing:Pete/Brendon.
POV:Pete's
Summary:Lonely in LA
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU fic

I sit in this prison everyday, this empty world of nothing. A kid from Chicago who happened to get lucky, write a few hit songs. I watch millions of fourteen year old girls loose it every night. screaming, Im their favourite. Signs, "Pete Marry Me!!!" Shuttled from gig to gig, king of the scene. Its not a hard life, its an easy life. People give you whatever you want. I drive down Van Nuys Boulevard, where all the hookers stay. Bunny fur and hot pants, girls with vacant eyes. "Are you lonely tonight?" They purr. Yeah, I am lonely tonight, what are you going to do about that? There is one that stands in the back, so young and so frightened. Small framed, chocolate eyes, sad eyes. Rumpled tee shirts that cling to a thin frame, pale skin dotted with scars. That face stays with me, sometimes I drive through there, just looking for those eyes.

I got brave one night, I stopped, they flocked to the expensive car, they fell over themselves to get a piece of what they thought I had. I don't have anything for these sad girls. That boy stood under a street light, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth. Beautiful lips, he looked like an angel. This lonely, sad angel that came down to save someone, certainly not himself. He caught my eye, stubbing out the cigarette.

"Hey there." His voice was soft, slightly litted. He came over to the car unsurely, like a fawn growing into awkward limbs. "Are you lonely? Want some company?" He asked me. I couldn't stop looking at that mouth, those lips were dangerous. I just opened the door to the jeering of the girls. He climbed in, smelling like smoke, something slightly sweet. Driving him home to a world that was more vacant than the one he was used to. He was petting the butter soft leather of the interior of my expensive SUV. Rubbing the pads of his fingers over it, like he was touching something soft, fur, something to be worshipped. He looked over at with me with glowing eyes. I wish I had eyes like that, wide, soft. Haunted, but still alive.

I took him to this motel, it was one of those pay by the hour places, the ones that you find souvenirs of the previous occupants. He came in, and I sat on the bed. My palms were sweating, I couldnt bare to touch him. He stood in front of me, watching me, wanting directions.

"Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it." He whispered.

"Strip." I croaked out. My mouth was dry, it was suddenly hot in there, my eyes on this awkward looking boy. This beautiful, awkward teenager. He slipped his tee shirt off, letting it fall to the floor, it was all crumpled. His skin looked soft and pale, scars on his arms, a few on his chest. He slipped off tight jeans that hugged a round little bottom. Sharp pronounced hip bones that peaked out, I wanted to run my finger tips over them, my tongue over them. He let them slide down, he was naked under his jeans. He looked powerful standing there nude. He stepped closer to me, right in front of me. I put my hands on his hips, pulling him over to me.

"Let me touch you." I pleaded softly. He put his hands on my shoulder, pushing me down on the bed. His lithe frame moving over mine, straddling my hips. His nimble hands pulling off my hoodie, my tee shirt. I let this baby prostitute undress me in a cheap motel, where it smelled like mold, and sex, and something like sin.

"Tell me what you want." He whispered in my ear. His breath was hot, it smelled like smoke. I looked up into those burning eyes. I wonder if it was all an act, he couldnt be burning for me, maybe he was just ready to explode. A life too dangerous for someone so young, only a child by most standards. He wasnt a child that night, he was this being fueled by heat and sex. By fingers over hip bones, skin over skin.

"I want you to ride me baby." I whispered, shocked at my own boldness, shocked at how slender fingers felt going over my zipper, pulling it down, and open. I was shocked at how much I wanted a prostitute, a whore. This dirty, broken down boy. Only he didnt look broken down, he looked strong, as my desire grew, he lapped it up. An expert. He slipped my jeans down, my boxers down. He rolled a condom over me like some cheap girl in a late night skin movie. The ones you watch by yourself with your hand down your pants, so ashamed.

He pressed his body down easily on my length, easing on to it like he was going into a pool that was too cold. My body was shaking from nervousness, desire, something I couldnt place. He hips moved slowly first, gaining a feel for me. He let out this soft moan mixed with a yelp of pain. That urged me up, pressing up into him. His hips moved faster, and faster, soon he was bouncing on me. He was moaning, I was moaning, my body shaking underneath him. I watched with shock as he started to stroke himself, keeping his dark eyes on me. I came quicker than I would like to admit. He came over his hand and my chest. He kept his dark eyes on mine as he lapped it up, his little pink tongue wrapping around his soiled hand. I couldnt keep my eyes off him.

He pulled himself off of me, landing next to me on that cheap motel bed, or piece of foam on a metal frame. He wrapped the sheet around himself and lit a Kool mild 100, blowing smoke away from me.

"How old are you?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly. He looked at me like he had no idea what I just asked. Maybe he just wasnt used to anyone talking to him like that.

"Seventeen." He answered stubbing the cigarette out in a dirty ashtray. He laid back into the pillows, looking out the window at the dead LA night. Knowing soon he was going to be a whore again, a faceless boys used on the streets.

"Why are you here?" I asked. I wanted to know more about this boy, this sad eyed boy who hung out under street lights and purred at random men in cars.

"Well, I came out here to make music, and found a habit instead." He said rubbing track marked arms. "I guess I didnt have any real skills, so I just relied on what I was good at." He said sighing like this conversation simply exhausted them. "Can I have my money now?" He asked slipping tight jeans back on, that rumpled tee shirt. The only clothes Ive ever seen him wear.

"How much?" I asked so ashamed of myself. I was in a dirty motel with an even dirtier boy. Famous Pete Wentz, wish they could all see me now. Mourning the loss of the company of a whore.

"Weve been here an hour, so thats thirty -five dollars." He said standing up, hesitating. He didnt want to leave anymore than I wanted him too. It was a hard life for someone so young. He wanted more, deserved more. A warm bed, a loving family, safety, security. Things kids his age only took for granted.

"How much is it for you to stay forever?" I asked him. I was serious at that moment, more serious than empty songs and empty promises.

He left that night, clutching thirty-five dollars in his little hand. He wouldnt accept more. I still drive by that place at night, looking for him. He wasnt there, he wasnt there ever again that night we had. I like to pretend he went home, was safe, enjoying being so young. But the truth is, he probably od's, or someone got rough with him. He was dead, lonely, unable to do anything else.

I still dream of haunted chocolate eyes, and pale, soft skin. A boy whose name I never even knew.

graceful_lily @ 2007-01-23T22:51:00

2007-01-23T03:56:33Z

Title:Family Ties
Chapter:Rescue (Chapter 6)
Rating:NC-17, mentions of underage drinking, sex
Pairing:Jon/Brendon, mentions of Brendon/Pete, a scene of Ryan/Brendon, Ryan/Brendon/Jon.
POV:Brendon's
Summary:Brendon and Jon are step brothers
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU fic

Dream

Hope

Broken

Paradise

Chances

Approval

The spring thaw started the week before my birthday, I saw coats being shed, flowers starting to open. Chris Profeta gave me a bouquet of orange tiger lillies for my birthday. He looked so awkward standing there, the flowers slightly wilted after being smashed in his locker. I took them home and threw them on the table. They weren't from you. You knew that they were my favourite, but still, no word from you. I was losing hope fast, watching out the window for you to just appear like you always do. But, still nothing.

I was sitting in photo class, peeling the dead skin from between my fingers, watching it flake to the stained table. My roll was unexciting, I felt uninspired. Taking my turn in the dark room, photos of tree stumps, barren tree limbs. Ryan playing his guitar. Pete doing spins on stage, godfather of the scene. I was so sick of this scene, fucking me up, making me miss you. I was so tired of missing you, tears staining my cheeks. Melancholy staining everything.

Ryan sat with me on my navy blue comforter, it smelled like lotion, and strawberries, and menthol smoke. Without you around, I did pick up the nasty habit. Ryan pulled me into his arms, and touched my dark hair. He told me to be happy, school was going to be over soon, college coming. Why don't I go on another dated with Chris Profeta, he seemed to be quite fond of me. I pulled him back with me, we laid there, looking at the stars painted on my ceiling.

"Do you want to make a wish?" Ryan whispered looking over at me.

"I don't need to." I said looking back at him. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss Ryan. His lips were slightly parted, they were so small and pink. I felt guilty for thinking about this, maybe I was just lonely. Ryan saw me staring and leaned over and gently placed his lips on mine. No pressure, they were just resting there. He put one hand on my warm cheek, stroking it feather light. I pulled away, resting my head on his the crook of his shoulder, half way between his chest and shoulder. He kissed the top of my head, nuzzled my hair. I felt so torn, so torn in my love for you, how I needed you. I just wanted someone, I was so alone without you. I pulled Ryan on top of me, fitting our awkward frames together. My jutting hipbones, his sharp limbs. We were kissing, his tongue in my mouth, his breath was warm, he tasted like coca cola, and peanut butter. He didn't have the caustic taste you had. His hands were on my hips, mine were around his waist. Desperate kissing, I wondered if he thought of Brent, what this would do to him. We stared at each other panting, trying to catch the breath hitched in our throats.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. I nodded, tears rolling down my cheeks. How could I betray you? He wiped them off with his thumbs, tilted my head to look at him. "Don't cry, you were lonely, it happens." As if that made it all better.

I woke up eighteen, legal. My mum pressing a kiss to my forehead. Your dad avoiding my gaze. He knew, knew where we were going. My mum made a texas sheet cake, my favourite. Crushed walnuts on top. I blew out my candles and only had one wish.

I sat on the roof that night, wrapped in the blanket from your bed. I was watching the stars, or what I could actually see from our house. I wondered where you were, what you were doing. Were you thinking of me on my birthday? I was all yours now, they couldn't take me away from you anymore.

Our parents went to Seattle on a business trip, leaving me alone in the house.

"Have Ryan over." My mum said hugging me tightly. I couldn't tell her why I wasn't calling Ryan at the moment. I lost another friend. I was sitting on the window seat in my room, the glass felt so cool on my forehead. Everything happened so fast. The door opened, I wasn't startled I knew who it would be. Your hands on my hips pulling me off the chair. My lips crashed against your, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You throwing me down on my bed, clothes being shed. Your mouth on my throat, my collar bone, biting down, leaving bruises. Your hands all over my skin, I was moaning your name, little spasms of light and colour going off in my head. Your thick fingers pressing into me, my legs over your shoulders. You pushed in, I felt whole and full again. I came with a moan of your name, you with a grunt of mine. We were twisted up in the sheets, you packed my bags. I was ready. But one thing nagged me. Ryan, I couldn't leave him like this.

"I need to see Ry." I whispered to you. You would have done anything for me. Ryan's house dark, and quiet. His father was always gone or passed out. I saw him tinkling with a guitar in the window. I came in and kissed his mouth hard, pulled you over to us. The three of us kissing, it felt so wrong, but I needed this. Three bodies on one small twin bed. My small hands on both of you, touching your rough skin and his pale smooth. My mouth on both of you, the way you tasted, the way he tasted. You both took me at once, I felt stretched, and in pain, and in immense pleasure. The pleasure of my brother/lover taking me, my best friend claiming me.

"Come with me." My mouth was on his ear, your hand was on my hip. Ryan put his face in the crook of my neck. I packed his bag, he carried his guitar. Piling in your old blue car, I was kissing your neck as you drove, Ryan curled up asleep in your back seat.

"Happy birthday baby." You whispered into my hair.

I watched the sunset, blanketing the sky in orange while we drove to freedom.

graceful_lily @ 2007-01-13T00:21:00

2007-01-13T05:31:08Z

Title:Family Ties
Chapter:dream (Chapter 6)
Rating:Hard R, mentions of underage drinking, sex
Pairing:Jon/Brendon, mentions of Brendon/Pete
POV:Brendon's
Summary:Brendon and Jon are step brothers
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU fic

Hope

Broken

Paradise

Chances

Approval

Its funny how you hear that waiting makes a bond stronger, makes it worth something, makes you want it even more. I was getting so tired of waiting for you sometimes, I was tired of waiting to start my life. I was so lonely at home, with only Ryan to talk to. The voices in my head taking over, blaming mum, blaming me, blaming you. I didn't want to blame you, for the kids calling me an incest freak, the boy who ran away with his brother. They would move for me in the halls, afraid to catch whatever it was that I had. Ryan being the only one who wasn't afraid to touch me, or look at me.

I spent most of my time in my room, coming home from school and sleeping most of the night. I went back to not eating, to not getting up, wearing the same baggy clothes. Mum said I was fading away right before her eyes again. I moved on to reading these giant books to keep my mind off of you. You went back to not writing, maybe it was too hard to know that we had ninety days between us, between us and freedom. I was sorta glad in this odd way, I don't know if I could have sat through those letters, those phone calls. Why was it so hard to be in love with you? Every step felt like I was making this massive journey, I couldn't struggle anymore. I was falling, stumbling at home, and I couldn't even talk to you about it like I normally did all my other problems. I couldn't stop crying, my eyes coloured with deep purple circles underneath.

One day Ryan pulled me out of bed and pushed me into a shower. The hot water prickled my skin, I hadn't felt it in so long. Washing my hair with coconut shampoo and white creamy bars of softly scented soap. My skinny body in what once were tight jeans, little tee shirts, Ryan's grey jacket. I sat in the corner of a little venue, watching Brent's band stumble over easy notes. Watching Pete play godfather of the scene, his girlfriend tucked under his arm like an accessory. I was watching him come closer and closer like I was watching a car accident happen, until he was right in front of me.

"Yeah." I said looking down at a stain on the table. He always knew when to come, when to ruin my life.

"Did your brother give you permission to come out?" He said. I could hear smirking in his voice. I just gave up. Gave up trying to be strong. I finally just broke down and asked him. Why did he do this to me? What pleasure did he gather from being like this? He got red in the face, sputtered angrily. I made him a laughing stock, the boy who ran off with his brother, left him behind with no warning. I shrugged, trying to feel bad, but I couldn't. I couldn't feel bad for loving you. He pressed forward and kissed me, I felt trapped under his lips. Lips that weren't yours. He pulled away, feeling my lips were shut tight and my eyes were wide open. He pushed me away and stalked off, not falling under the spell of the godfather of the scene. He had minions who ran to him, building up his ego.

As I laid in bed that night, remembering why I never went out in the first place, I couldn't help but think of you. I thought of the hold you had on me, how your love either imprisoned me or kept me going. I couldn't decide which it was. I curled up in a ball on my side and looked out my window, watched the still night. I wondered what you were doing in California. If you were imprisoned by my love.

A month trickled by, I felt like I watching it go in slow motion. My grades went back up, since I had nothing better to do than homework or read. My mum started to let me out of the house more, the fear I would run slipping away. The fear I would run slipping away from me, I had something to mark off on my calendar. I would sleep in your old bed sometimes, setting my alarm so I could wake up before my mum would come in and get me up for school. It was so comforting feeling your sheets again, thinking of all the times we laid in here together. After your dates, after my fights with mum. Drinking the beers you kept in the mini fridge under your bed. The way your sheets smelled like sweet marijuana smoke and musky cologne. Your skin was always so warm, mine was always so cold.

My hands were peeling in between my fingers. No matter how much lotion I used, it would just flake off. I was wearing all my little sweaters, the striped one, the red argyle. I would nestle into the them, curled up in your bed. My thoughts of you, mixed with wool keeping me warm.

graceful_lily @ 2007-01-11T00:18:00

2007-01-10T05:41:47Z

Title:Family Ties
Chapter:Hope (Chapter 5)
Rating:Hard R, mentions of underage drinking, sex
Pairing:Jon/Brendon, mentions of Brendon/Pete
POV:Brendon's
Summary:Brendon and Jon are step brothers
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU fic

Broken

Paradise

Chances

Approval

I was praying to my own god everynight, in loneliness, a in a place where praying didn't help. How I needed you, did you need me as much as I needed you? Your letters were long, you talked of your love for me, the urgency that you felt when you looked at me. You swore you could still taste me, you wouldn't sleep on my side of the bed, you said the sheets still smelled like me. I clutched this old sweat shirt of yours, breathing it in, the musk and smoke took me back to a familiar place. The safest place I have ever been, in your arms with my face buried in your chest. Kissing all the little hairs there, over your pale skin, down to one pink nipple. I would bite down gently, teasing you. You would groan, and press down onto my hips. I loved the way it felt to rub against you, panting your name. I made out with this boy once, when I was younger, fourteen or so. It was getting heavy, I was rubbing my hips against his. He called me lassie after that, said I humped him like a dog. You would never do that, say that. You would groan loudly, and press back just as hard. We were matched in everyway, physically, spiritually. I miss the way my hips felt against yours.

I was laying in bed, twisted up in bed sheets, my pajama pants. I kept thinking of you, my hands dipping down between my thighs. I never felt ashamed being like this, thinking of you like that. I rubbed my hipbones like you used to, dipped over the soft skin of my thighs. I stroked myself through my boxers, moaning softly. My hands over my pale skin, the feather light touch of the pads of my fingers on the tip of my erection. I wrapped my tongue around my fingers, teasing my entrance. I imagined you doing this, your fingers, your length. I was writhing, impaling my self on my fingers, god, how I needed you. I came with a soft sigh of your name. Sweat glistening on my skin in the dim light of our street lamps shining through my window. All for you, all in the thought of you.

You would call me secretly, when I could sneak my phone. We would whisper to each other, the I love yous, the I need yous. I would cry and you would comfort me. Sometimes we would tell each other what we would do if we were together. Cuming together, I felt like I was back with you. You begged me to runaway, just tell you where I wanted to meet you. You said you would go anywhere for me. That you would save me. I felt like one of those princesses trapped in a tower, waiting for a prince. Be my prince, come save me, I need a knight in shining armour.

You blamed yourself, saying you poisoned me. You made me run away, from my future, from my parents, from my home. You made me crave the way hot skin felt against hot skin, the taste of smoke. It was bound to happen someday, I wasn't going to stay untouched forever. You would alternate between guilt and need, wanting to find me, bring me back to you, and telling me to stay, don't throw my future away. I used to beg you to stop. Stop saying these things, you know how much I love you. You used to ask out loud if love was enough, and I would just cry in response. Why were you doing this to me? How could you make me want you, and then tell me to move on?

You didn't write or call for two weeks, and I thought maybe you moved on. So I started to try and put my life back together. I start to wake up again. Shower, and do my homework. I started taking pictures again. I would go out with Ryan, and we would dance all night, in little indie clubs where boys would offer to buy us sugary bottles of Jones. I ignored Pete as he started me down in a corner one night, his arm tightly around his new girlfriend. Chris Profeta called and I had coffee with him. My life still felt empty without you, I wanted to call you, to write to you. I wondered if you still loved me like I loved you.

I was walking down town one day, aimless sucking on a bottle of peach ramune soda I bought at the international food store. My messanger bag slung low over one hip. I had on that jacket you liked, the red one with the fake fur trimmed hood. You always liked me in red. I came around one of the corners, and I saw a car there. It was a beat up old blue one. The back passenger side window had a crack in it where someone had hit it with a rock. There was rust spot on the driver's side door. I started to walk towards the car, run towards it with tears rolling down my face. you got out, your stubble a dark beard. Your hair fell over your forehead. You came towards me, holding your arms open. I jumped in your arms and you caught me. Held me to your chest, you still smelled like musky cologne and hand rolled cigarette smoke. I was crying, telling you I loved you. You kissed my forehead and told me how much you loved me. You came back for me.

We drove out to this point in Nevada where couples went to make out in cars. We listened to a cd of your band, you were so talented. You sat there holding me, stroking my hair. I was whispering into your chest, telling you how much I needed you. You told me how you couldn't stop yourself from seeing me, that you knew my mother would have a fit if she knew you were here, but you couldn't stop yourself. That you were going to come back for me, I just needed to give you time. You wanted to wait until I turned eighteen. No one could steal me away again if I were eighteen. I don't know what was harder, watching you drive away that night, or know I wouldn't have a real chance to be with you for three more months.

graceful_lily @ 2007-01-06T00:33:00

2006-12-27T04:33:49Z

Title:Family Ties
Chapter:Broken (Chapter 4)
Rating:Hard R, mentions of underage drinking, sex
Pairing:Jon/Brendon, mentions of Brendon/Pete
POV:Brendon's
Summary:Brendon and Jon are step brothers
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU fic

Paradise

Chances

Approval

Once you find paradise, you know you can't stay there forever. I was in paradise with you, I felt like everyday was just as beautiful as the first. I would lie in bed with you until you had to go teach. I loved watching you with your students, the way they looked at you, so hopeful. Teaching teenaged boys to play Metallica, and a hippie girl all you need is love. You taught me how to play, everytime I touched the strings I thought of you.

Its a funny thing to be seventeen and all you see around you is what you're going to be. I wasn't going to Brown, or Berkely. I wasn't going to study art, or go to keg parties, or stay up all night writing term papers. I was going to clean our tiny apartment, and hope that the little money that you brought home would last for two weeks. I was happier than I thought I would be. I know the people we knew back home would shake their head at me. "Brendon Urie gave up his entire future for a relationship with his step brother." How did that sound out loud? I would have given up everything for you.

You were on top of me, pinning my hips down. I was only wearing my boxer shorts, you were fully clothed. I was writhing underneath you, pressing up into you, wanting more of you. The door opening, we were both frozen. Everything seemed to go in slow motion after that. My mother, your father coming in. My mother was screaming, your father pulling you off of me. She was pulling on my upper arm, ripping me away from you. Your father was asking how you could have done this, how could you have done this with your brother? I was struggled to find something to cover myself with. My mother threw clothes at me, sobbing, how could her son do this? With his own brother. For the first time since we started this, I felt shame. My mother took me home, back to Vegas. Your father joined us, you did not.

I was back in school, sleep walking through school. I had so much work to make up, and so many whispers to contend with. Ryan was supportive, he thought I left because of Pete. Pete had moved on by the way, his new girlfriend was good and trashy. Pete on the other hand, wasn't supportive on why I left. I was so broken down, crying on my bed like a child. He kept pressing why did I leave, how could I do that to him. I just told him everything, it just tumbled out. He was screaming at me, I was sick, a whore, how could I do that with my brother? He ended up telling everyone. They would yell "incest is best" When they saw me walking alone, Ryan, bless him, stayed by myside. I was at my locked when day, after school had let out. A boy came up to me and spit in my face. I knew I couldn't do it without you, I just couldn't make it alone.

My parents wouldn't let me to talk to you, they wouldn't give me messages from you, my mother would hang up if she heard your voice. Your father couldn't look at me, he was so ashamed. I started spending all my time in my room, working on all the work I had to make up. I write you letters, long, novel length letters. Lyrics to songs, drawings of the two of us, anything to make it feel like you were with me. I couldn't take being apart from you, I couldn't take the taunting at school. I started losing weight, wore the same clothes everyday. Nothing existed to me anymore, only you.

I tried running away, my mother taking my car, stopping my bank account. She kept me prisoner in our house. She kept me prisoner in my lonliness for you.

graceful_lily @ 2006-12-20T23:13:00

2006-12-21T03:13:04Z

Title:Family Ties
Chapter Title:Paradise(Chapter three)
Author: graceful_lily
Rating:Hard R, mentions of underage drinking, sex
Pairing:Jon/Brendon, mentions of Brendon/Pete
POV:Brendon's
Summary:Brendon and Jon are step brothers
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU fic

Chances

Approval

I woke up in the back seat of your car, tangled up in your limbs. It hit me all at once, I wasn't going to Brown. I wasn't going back to school, I wasn't actually finishing school. I was going to live here with you, in a car in this city that was once our paradise. You wake up, and stretch, scratch your beard. You pull me into your chest, let me bury my face in your bare skin. You smell like me, and body odor, and freedom. I curl up into you, knowing you'll keep me safe, you'll make everything make sense again.

You drive us to a store where you buy beer, and orange juice for me, and two glazed donuts. you tell me that you know someone here, he'll give us a place to stay, help you find a job. You'll tutor me at night, I can go to community college. I just listen to you, I automatically believe you. I suck on one of the beer bottles, the bitter taste hitting the back of my throat. As you drive, I kiss your neck and your shoulders. I'm feeling so free and so alive, more so than I ever have in my life. You pull me in your lap, kissing me as we drive, you looking over my shoulder at times. I slip down your body, and kneel before you like I'm praying. I remember a story Ryan told me once about some girl we knew who went down on her boyfriend while he drove and ended up hitting a parked car. He was chewing strawberry bubble gum as he told it and his face was all twisted up like he ate something sour. I didn't care if it tasted sour to him at that moment. Your pants were baggy, green cargo pants. I pulled you out and ran my hand up and down your length, feel you stiffen in my hand. I had never done this before, taking you in slowly. I tried to relax my throat, picking up tips handed down by girls who wore too much lip gloss and giggled at me when I looked awkward while asking. You felt so big in my mouth, you hit the back of my throat. I ran my tongue on that fat vein on the underside of your length. You pulled at my dirty hair, pulling me down farther. I bobbed my head slightly and hummed around you. You came with a groan and it hit the back of my throat, I didn't know what to do but swallow. I rinsed my mouth out with your beer and you pulled me into a kiss, I wonder if you could taste yourself.

Your friend's apartment is small and dirty, but we can share the tiny bedroom. All I have is the clothes I managed to grab, and my ipod, I couldn't leave it behind. You pull out the stuffed panda I used to carry around as a child, saying you couldn't let me leave without it. You know me better than anyone else does. We lay in that tiny bed, holding each other, it smells like smoke, and someone's cheap cologne. You tell me about how your band is joining you, and that you'll look for a job. That I can stay home during the day, and you'll come home and tutor me. We'll make love all night long, it will be just the two of us. You say we'll find our own place, where jasmine and jacaranda grow freely. The air will smell of flowers and your musky scent, and my fruit. You see me draped in sand, and sea, and you. I was always drawn to the water, I loved watching you surf, and when we would swim together, you holding on to me.

I would clean the place spotless, buy all the groceries with the money you made working as a guitar teacher. I would cook for you, lasagnas and bread, and grilled cheese. you poured over physics and calculus with me, and we read Proust together. We made love all night, bruises dappling my hips and thighs. My collar bone was black and blue, you loved to bite down on me. You bought me more clothes, I would pull you in the dressing room, and you would touch my thighs in tight jeans and make me turn around for you. You made sure I ate, and slept, I was prone to bits of insomnia. Your friend who subleased the place to us would pop in unannounced. I was on top of you, my legs on either side of you, I was bouncing, riding you. I watched him with half lidded eyes, daring him to say something to us. He threw down some of the bills and ran out. Your laugh shook me and you called me your little vixen. I was your little vixen, you made me this way.

I would stand in the mirror, looking at my body, wondering what you loved about it. My sharp hip bones, ribs that stuck out. Smooth pale skin, or my collar bone that you loved to bite. I would put on your clothes, wrapping myself in you. I started to crave you all the time, my passion growing wild and ragged as weeds in the summer time. You weren't my brother anymore, you were my lover, my soul mate. I would lay there when you weren't around, touching all over my skin, imagining your hands on me. I was seventeen, a mess of hormones. I couldn't get enough of you, I would wait for you with my french book, rolling the vowels on my tongue. I would whisper things in french in your ear, letting them slowly drive you crazy until you would pin me against the kitchen counter. What are you doing to me? you would ask me. Did I bewitch you? Or did you cast a spell of lust on me? I would pout out my lower lip and you would pull on it with your teeth.

I sucked on a strawberry lollipop, sitting on a speaker watching your band practise. You were screaming the chorus, your singer had no presence. The drummer watched me, licking his lower lip slowly before I shot him a gaze. He looked away like he hadn't seen anything, he didn't know how I belonged to you. The way you played entranced me, I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. After you packed up your guitar, you would sling one arm around my hips and we would walk out, sharing that lollipop. You said I was strawberry flavoured, I said you were Jon flavoured.

graceful_lily @ 2006-12-17T16:31:00

2006-12-17T20:31:24Z

Title:Family Ties
Chapter Title:Chances(Chapter one)
Author: graceful_lily
Rating:Hard R/NC-17
Pairing:Jon/Brendon, mentions of Brendon/Pete
POV:Brendon's
Summary:Brendon and Jon are step brothers
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU fic

Approval

We used to drive to LA, to surf, or I would watch you surf. I was always eating in those days, my mouth wrapped around anything crunchy and hot, or sweet and creamy. I was eating an ice cream sandwich and my shoulders were peeling. I liked it when you come out of the water, and and you drip cold saltwater purposely on me. We would lay on soft towels and sometimes we would sleep in your car. We would get ice cream on the way home, rocky road. I would pick out all the nuts and give them to you, and you would pluck out all the marshmallows and give them to me. I would lay on my head on your shoulder as you drove. We never wanted to go home. You used to talk about moving to LA, you used to say we would move to LA, where we could go to the beach, you could work on your band. I would have followed you anywhere.

I saw you putting on your leather coat over an old Iron Maiden tee shirt, your hair still black. I asked if I could go with you, I was wearing that red tee shirt that you liked. You said you wished I wouldn't wear my clothes so tight, and I was embarrassed. You softened and said to come on. You filled a flask with the barcardi that mum kept hidden from us under her bar. We drove down to that little venue you used to go see local bands at. You were smoking a hand rolled cigarette and I asked if I could have one. You said no, and said I better not start such a bad habit. We walked in and girls gave me dirty looks, one looked like she wanted to punch me. It felt empowering. You bought us two cokes, which we spiked with rum. A local screamo band was playing and we tried to ignore them. "This place isn't good tonight, it isn't good anynight actually." You said with a shrug. I asked you why you came here, and you said it was something to do.

Your friend came in, the shortish one with the horse teeth and the dark hair. We were standing off of the stage, I was wearing your leather jacket. He came over to us with his group of friends, you had names for all of them. He looked at me grinning, and asked you who I was. You said my stepbrother, and asked him why he cared. He said why else, I was a babe. I smiled politely at him, and you said we had to go. He did some handshake thing with you, and told me he would see me around. You pulled me away and we went and sat out in the car. You said to stay away from him, he was sleazy, a charmer. I watched your face as you talked about your friend, your eyes darkening. It was so hard to read you at times. We drove home in silence, you staring straight ahead and me nestled into the jacket that smelled like you, looking out the window.

Everything changed the night I saw you with her, your bedroom door was slightly ajar and I walked right in, thinking nothing of it. She was sitting in your tee shirt smoking, you looked guilty. She had bleached hair and dark roots. Dark lipstick stained everything in your bed. You wouldn't look at me, and she stared right at me, she looked like she wanted to punch me again. I walked out and ran down the back stairs. crouched by the pool, staring into it for answers. Your friend came by, he sat with me. He touched my hair and asked why you were such a guard dog when it came to me. I shrugged and stared into the pool. He told me so many things all at once, I couldn't help but listen to them. You came out with her, black stockings, black dress, boots. You stared at him, and it was my turn not to look at you. Everything had changed between us.

You started to let me drive myself to school, spending time in our basement with your band, or out with Melissa. That was her name, Melissa. She nothing like me, and Pete, your friend said he thought thats why you chose her. You said it was time for us to learn to have our own identities. I went to school, and hung out with Ryan. I let Pete put his arm around me when we sat in the den and watched tv. He kissed me once, just leaned over and brushed his lips to mine. You sat across from me at dinner and picked at your mashed potatoes. You said you were thinking of moving out to LA, and you couldn't wait until June. I stared at you and didn't say anything. My letter from Berkley came that day, and the letter from Brown. I wouldn't open them without you. I sat in the den with Peter and we opened them together. I didn't tell you I was accepted to both.

We used to have this stuffed bear, it was mine from when I was a little child. The back seam was ripped opened and we would stuff notes in there, passing them to each other. I learned from your notes that you quit playing baseball because your knee was all messed up, and it started to become not fun anymore. You learned from mine that I wanted to go to art school. I saw him sitting by my door, I knew you left something in there for me. I threw him down the hall so he hit your door with a thud. I wasn't ready to forgive you for leaving me, or wanting to leave me. I wondered if you were going to take her to LA. Peter would just come into my room, just like you did. He said it looked exactly how he expected, cluttered, clothes everywhere. He sat on my bed, and we didn't talk. We kept kissing, little kisses that developed into more. He deepened our kiss, his tongue pressing through my lips. He laid down with me, his knee in between my legs. I was sighing into his mouth, little breaths. I could hear you moving around in your room, I almost wanted you to come in and see us in there, to show you I didn't need you. You never came.

I started to avoid coming home right from school, going to the library, the mall with Ryan. I would watch Pete's band practise, he did all these little jumps. I saw you out one day, you looked different. Your stubble forming a scruffy beard, you had your gray hoodie on, with the hood up. You didn't see me, ducking into the skate shop where your friend Mike worked. I wanted to run the other way, not say anything to you. But you saw me, you held my gaze. Sometimes I couldn't remember why we werent speaking, why you wanted to get away from me so badly. I adjusted my school bag on my shoulder and kept walking, my head down. I turned the corner and sat against the wall of the new coffee shop they put up last year. I beat you home that night.

Your things were all packed up in your car, you were sitting in the drivers seat ready to go. I just opened the car door and sat in there. You asked what I wanted, you mumbled it so I could barely hear it. I started yelling at you, asking why are you leaving me. What did I do to make you want to leave me. You stared harder at me, I started to pound on your chest with my little fists, crying, screaming at you. Was I that replaceable? You finally grabbed me, I was fighting you, and pulled me into a hug, that developed into a kiss. Our mouths pulled at each other, the kiss becoming deeper, more desperate. I was kissing my soul mate, the man I knew I was meant for. We ran into our dark house, our parents out for the night. You pushed me up against the closed door, pressing into me with your hips. I jumped up and put my legs around your waist, you carried me up the stairs, collapsing on my bed. My hands on your chest, your hands on my hips. Our clothes were shed, it was my first time. I knew you wanted to ask about Pete, the answer was no. I spread my legs for you, you pushed in so gently, I whined a little. You were coaxing me, telling me to relax, that you loved me. I was always in love with you, since I was nine years old. Your pace quickened, my pain subsided, pleasure taking over. You pressed me into the mattress. I begged you for more. You stroked me, I came in your hand, with your name burning on my lips. You came groaning my name. We laid there in my sheets, tangled together. My head was on your chest, you stroked my hair. You told me to get dressed, we had to go.

We drove to LA that night, All I had were my clothes, you said you would take care of me. I believed you. We slept in your car, you held me in the backseat, I was nestled against you. We woke up to a burning red sunrise.

graceful_lily @ 2006-12-12T13:26:00

2006-12-12T17:26:53Z

Title:Family Ties
Chapter Title:Approval(Chapter one)
Author: graceful_lily
Rating:PG-13 for this chapter, Hard R/NC-17 later on
Pairing:Jon/Brendon, mentions of Brendon/Pete
POV:Brendon's
Summary:Brendon and Jon are step brothers
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU fic

I walked up the stairs to your room, pretending I wanted to hang out before I went with Ryan to go dancing. I had on his little jacket over my button down and tight jeans, skater shoes. I wanted you to see me before my date, but I wouldn't tell you I was meeting a boy there. I knew you would laugh, Chris Profeta wasn't someone you hang out with. I just opened your bedroom door, not bothering to knock, we never knocked when we went into each other's rooms.
You were laying there, listening to the Clash with the sheet pulled.

"Brendon!" You said pulling the sheet up higher. I looked away ashamed. You were never that harsh to me. I looked away, pretending to look through your cds while you pulled on a pair of grey sweat pants. When I looked back at you, you were shirtless. You asked me where I was going. I told you I was meeting Ryan. You asked who was driving, I felt like I was talking to your dad. I couldn't think of him as my dad just yet. I said Ryan. You told me to be careful. I was slightly disappointed that you didn't mention my new outfit. You always told me how you liked my clothes, or how I looked. I wondered if I were too dependent on you at times.

I came home before midnight, sweating under all those layers. My button down, Ryan's little jacket. I came right to your room, and looked at you surprised. Your hair was black. you dyed it while I was gone. I couldn't stop looking at you. You looked handsome, strong, and different, it made your eyes look bluer.

"What?" You asked, You were still shirtless. You opened your bedroom door a little wider so I could come in. I sat on your bed and you gave me a beer from the little refrigerator you kept in your room. You asked me how dancing was, and I said it was fine. I didn't tell you how he tried to kiss me, and how Ryan went off with Brent and left me by myself for a while. How I danced alone after my date ditched me for greener pastures so to say. I sipped on the beer, trying to ignore the slightly bitter taste. You laid back on the bed with your arms behind your head and you encouraged me to lie back with you.

I always wondered why you decided to stay so close to home instead of go away to school like I dreamed of doing. You would still drive me everyday, even though I could drive myself by now. Ryan would sit in the back, fiddling with his ipod and we would sit up front, I would try to find my favourite song on the radio. You would swat my hand away and we would laugh. One day you came and picked me up and I wasn't ready, I sitting in the student lounge with Ryan and Brent and a few of Brent's friends. You stood at the edge of the group and your presence was felt. Everyone thought you were my boyfriend, they all whispered to each other as we left school. You took me to that diner I liked after school, and we ate ice cream sundaes and I asked you about work. And you asked me about school. We watched some jockish looking guy be spoon fed ice cream by two giggling cheer leaders. We both looked at each other and laughed. It was cold that day, fall setting in. You gave me your hoodie and carried my school bag inside.

"Why don't you go out with your friends?" My mum would ask me when I spent my Fridays nights with you, sitting in the basement listening to your dad's record player. "Your friend Chris has called here three times, you're spending far too much time down here." She would scold. She always tried to keep us apart. Most parents would have been pleased that their step children got along so well. She could see that we set the air on fire between us.

graceful_lily @ 2007-01-10T00:40:00

2006-12-12T04:40:13Z

Title: The Object of Beauty
Chapter Title: Remembering(chapter three)
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: pg-13 for this chapter, Hard R/NC-17 for later
Summary: "The Uries' have a son you know, he's our age, I knew him before they shut the house down."
Notes: AU Fiction
Disclaimer: Not real, kids

Finding Out

Beauty in Decay

The nightly visits were starting to take a toll on me, just leaving him there in that prison. I would climb on my bike and go home to my own prison, my father screaming at me, beating me down. I wonder sometimes if thats why I loved him so much, he understood what I was going through. Maybe I just wanted to save someone when I couldn't save myself. I hadn't told anyone about him yet, I debated in my head who was more trustworthy, Brent, the pot head, or Spence, who ran and told his parents everything. Who could I trust with the best secret of my life?

"I hope I'm not getting you into trouble." The object of beauty said one night as he smoked one of those menthol cigarettes. After nights of heat bearing down, it broke, pouring down rain. I hadn't seen my beauty in three nights, I was aching for a just a glance at him. The night air was chilled, and I kept sneaking glances at him bundled up under a red plaid flannel blanket. He lifted it up, offering some to me, we snuggled together for warmth. I daringly put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him close to me. He laid his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes for a moment. I couldn't help myself, I pulled him closer, I could smell his fruit conditioner, sweet smoke. We held hands under the blanket, watching the stars. It was so cold still, you were shivering. I closed my eyes and leaned forward. I kissed his soft lips, catching his lower lips in between mine, the way you would catch a piece of fruit. He tasted so sweet, like smoke mixed with sadness. He put his thin arms around the back of my neck, pulling me closer, my arms around his thin waist. How I dreamed about this moment, the moment when I finally had the beauty in my arms. We sat there, bundled up under that blanket, kissing on and off. He pulled away with a gentle swip of his swollen lips.

"I need to go back, she'll know I'm gone." He whispered, pulling his frame away from mine. I stood up with him, holding his small hand.

"I need to see you tomorrow Brendon, please." I pleaded gently, pulling him to me again. He kissed my cheek, and hugged me lightly.

"I promise I'll try."

I walked him home, saying a silent good bye at the edge of the yard, the ache of my heart growing watching him shut the door to that black house. I kept imagining the bleakness swallowing such a beautiful creature, suffocating all that was good inside of him. The dark circles were growing deeper under his eyes and he wasn't sleeping. I wondered what kept him up at night.

We fell asleep on my porch swing, and I heard him crying in his sleep. What nightmares haunted my beauty? I wondered what it would feel like to be trapped by your own parents. He cried on my shoulder once I shook him gently, and for the first time I think I really understood what it felt like to be caged. He wasn't the object of beauty anymore, he was Brendon Urie, a boy whose parents kept him locked away from the real world. Whose sister had to run away to be free. Who was a freak show in our neighbourhood, who people made bets about, who could spot him, was he real. He seemed so real at that moment, I wasn't idealizing him, he was there, crying on my hoodie. And I finally knew what it felt like to need someone, not an image, but a person.

"You're the only one who makes me feel real." He whimpered, wiping his dark eyes.

"You're the only one that makes me feel real." I whispered back, brushing the hair off his forehead.

graceful_lily @ 2006-12-10T00:59:00

2006-12-10T04:59:43Z

Title:Tarnished
Author: graceful_lily
Rating:Hard R/NC-17
Pairing:Jon/Brendon, mentions of Brendon/Ryan
POV:Jon's
Summary:You hadn't aged at all, your face still soft after three years.
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU college fic, set three years later. This is still dedicated to my friend and her story line partner.

I=Jon
You-Brendon
He=Ryan

Silver Drops

I sat next to the professor, using this grad assistance as something that could set me up for better things. I never looked at the attendance sheet, I never looked up at the class. I had better things to look at, theories on Chaucer's use of commas, or the physics of a music note. The professor was out one day, a note on the door asking me to give the class their papers back. I sighed and grabbed a manila folder of carelessly written essays. Each grade more mediocre than the last. Each paper looking like a frantic attempt to squeeze five pages out on a computer the night before.I called out the names, watching sleepy eyed kids stroll up and snatch their paper from my bored hands. A name jumped out at me, Brendon Urie. I knew a Brendon once.

"Brendon Urie." I called out boredly. A tiny boy came up. You came up. Dark eyes, pale skin, an innocent pout. A red coat with a fake fur trimmed hood hiding a slim frame with an army green messenger bag slung over you. Your eyes shined as you took your paper from my hand, slipping something inside of my outstretched palm.

"I still think about you." Was written in neat scrawl with Porter 414 in the corner. I saw you waiting for me after class, clutching your B paper in those small hands. I remember those small hands over my skin, clutching my shoulders. You were sitting against the wall, chewing on a red pen, you looked exactly the same. Three years did not age those soft features, you looked more like a boy than a man.

"You waited." I said hiking my leather bag up on my shoulder. I tried to balance papers unclaimed, school books, and my feelings for you. Your face hit me all at once, I felt unprepared to see you again. This boy whose one encounter we had shook me down to my very core.

"Of course I did." You said softly. The maturity in your voice weighed on me, I felt like I was looking at a child pretending to be in college.

We walked to you dorm, 414 Porter. You unlocked a door with a dry erase board with messages scrawled on it in blue marker. A tall thin boy with a curly jewfro was pulling a hoodie over a tee shirt with a skate logo on it. He smiled at you and stared at me. He slumped past us carrying a chewed up pen and a half empty note book. I sat on the boy's unmade bed, pulling the sheets up. you pulled the red coat off, revealing a little argyle sweater and tight jeans. Your body looked the same, small and fragile, with a curve to your hips and behind. You sat on a made bed with a navy comforter which I assumed was yours. I stared at a silver framed photo of you and him. It was in black and white, you looked happy and he looked quiet.

"He transferred to NYU." You said softly following my gaze. I wondered what went through your mind. Did you cry when he told you? Dream of ways to get to New York? Or did you feel relief? That you could be yourself for a while. I came and sat next to you on the navy comforter, feeling so close to you in that messy dorm room. I could smell your fruit conditioner, you still smelled like coconuts. Our noses bumped and we nuzzled them against each other's. My hand went to your cheek, it was still soft and warm. You closed your eyes, I put my face in your hair. I held you to me, you still felt so small in my arms. I just needed to be near you, everytime I was in your presence, I felt myself pulled to you.

We laid on your bed for what felt like hours, you in my arms. Your sweater smelled like smoke, and lotion. I put my hands underneath it, under your soft tee shirt. My hands were on your ribs, rubbing up and down them, I could feel each little indent. On your window sill there was half a pack of menthol cigarettes, and a slightly smushed cherry red beanbag ashtray. I knew you would sit on your window sill and blow smoke out the screen, even though it was against the rules. You never cared about rules, and what seemed to be right in black and white senses, just what seemed right at that moment.

"Why didn't you come see me?" I asked you softly, pulling you on top of me. You put your legs on either side of me and I rubbed your thighs gently through your jeans.

"I wanted you to find me." You whispered leaning down to kiss me. Your mouth still tasted like strawberries. I pulled your little sweater off first, dropping it over the side of that tiny, metal framed dorm bed. My hands were on your sharp hip bones, kneanding them gently in my hands. I liked the way you fit so easily to me, I wished you would have given yourself to me. I felt him with us, looking over your thin shoulder. Looking down on me. I didn't care, I finally had that moment with you again. Every night I would pray for you to come back to me, and you appeared like magic. Our kiss became deeper, and more frantic. We needed each other, Our mouths pulling at each other. Our hands pulling off the obstructions of our clothes. My hoodie, your tee shirt, jeans falling to the floor like snow. I put my fingers to your lips, wanting you to wet them. You kept your burning dark gaze on my eyes as you took them in your mouth, wrapping that talented tongue around them. Entering you, one finger, two, three. You writhed on top of me, spreading your legs farther. You whined when I pulled them out, choosing instead to tease you with my tip at your entrance. I pushed into you in one fluid movement. I watched your face, twisted up in a battle between pain and pleasure. Your eyes eventually fell shut and your head tilted back, exposing your throat. Moans and whimpers, pants of my name on your lips. You bounced harder, faster, pulling yourself off, and slamming back down. You looked like a little animal fighting to be free. You stroked yourself, I had never seen you so bold. You had changed in those three years we were apart. The shyness melting away into someone who was confident, sexual. You came first, with a moan of my name, and slumped boneless against me as I rode out my orgasm. You fell asleep on my chest with me still inside of you.

I woke up and you were gone, the faint glow of the bathroom light on. I pulled on my boxers and walked in, the door was slightly cracked. You had a blue towel wrapped around your tiny waist, standing at the edge of the shower. The room was filled with steam all ready, and I came up behind you, slipping my boxers off. You stepped into that small shower stall first, standing under the hot water, letting it beat down on your head. I joined you, pulling your back to my chest. I picked up a small white bar of soap and your blue washcloth. Gently lathering up your back, down your legs, over that flat stomach. Sharp hipbones and over skinny arms. I was washing myself off of you. It was intimate than the act we shared in your dorm bed. I washed your hair with that coconut shampoo, the cream rinse that went with it. The steam and the smell, your silence, everything felt like it was in slow motion. I wrapped you in a towel, and just held you in the bathroom. You sat on your window sill, blowing menthol smoke out the open screen. Your baggy tee shirt and loose pin striped pajama pants made you look younger than you were. I sat on your bed, just watching you. You could blow perfect smoke rings and I wondered who taught you that.

Your roommate never came back that night, I wonder if he could read that we needed this, this one night together. I saw you come into class that next day. You walked with a shuffle, and you still had on that little red coat. You sat in the very middle of the room and took out a book, slipping those red glasses on. Did anyone ever tell you red was your colour?

We kept having trysts after that, in my apartment, in the stairwell of the English department. I had your arms over your head as I took you against the wall. The only sound was our heavy breathing echoing. Every little tryst took one more little piece of me, and you looked smaller and younger afterwards. You looked like the sixteen year old from a random New Year's eve party three years ago. One night we wrapped ourselves up in blanket and shared one of your cigarettes. I watched your mouth wrap around it, blowing smoke out of the corner of your lips. It was the moment I knew I was in love with you.

He never came back from New York, he sent you a beautifully worded letter. You read it and fell to your knees in your dorm room. Your roommate held you and I slipped out the door. We sat in silence in a coffee shop about a week later. I held your hand across a stained table and you wouldn't look at me. Even in that sad moment, it was so easy to be with you. It took a long time for you to let me in, I had never worked harder at anything in my life. My father told me once, over a scotch, that nothing worth having is easy. You were never easy, there was something smoldering under your surface, it scared me. It scared you too.

We laid in bed at night together, in my apartment and I looked over at you, and for the first time I don't feel scared looking at you. You opened your dark eyes and we stared at each other for a few minutes, and then you reached over and touched the lines in my forehead. "Stop thinking." You whispered and you laid your head on my chest. I put my arms around you and we slept.

graceful_lily @ 2006-12-07T23:52:00

2006-12-08T03:52:54Z

Title:Silver drops
Author: graceful_lily
Rating:Hard R/NC-17
Pairing:Jon/Brendon, mentions of Brendon/Ryan
POV:Jon's
Summary:You spent your year with him and your New Year's with me
Disclaimer:Not real folks
Author Notes: AU college fic. This was inspired by a good friend of mine's RP storyline actually, so I'm writing it for her

you=Brendon
I=Jon
Him=Ryan

It wasn't cold in Vegas, it was quite warm that New Year's night, We all wore tee shirts without goosebumps. You came with him, holding hands, two teenagers in love. Red was always your colour, I couldn't take my eyes off you as he lead you to an over stuffed, ugly plaid couch. My drunk friend William introducing you to me.

"Jon, this is Ryan, he's in my soc class." William managed to slur out. "I think this is Brendon." He said shrugging. I shook His hand and kept my eyes on you. Dark eyes, innocent pout, pale skin. The corners of your full lips were slightly upturned. As I stammered out a hello to you. His arm somehow went from holding your hand to snaking around your slim waist.

I watched you dance from my spot near the bar, playing a drinking game with my friends Mike and Andy. you moved so freely to pretentious college music, you were no where in beat to it. He looked so natural having a deep conversation with his friend Brent, who looked like he could barely keep his eyes open in that hot, smokey room. It unnerved me in a way how you didn't try to look cool, you just bounced around to the music, those full lips in a real smile. You caught my eye across the room and gave me this smile like we were keeping this big secret. I wanted to be near you, touching your pale skin and soft hair. You just turned away, so fast, sometimes I would wonder if you really were ever looking at me in the first place.

At midnight we all were give these individual bottles of cheap champagne, they were small, meant to share between lovers. You drank yours with a straw and went outside wrapped in his jacket to watch the fireworks. He was too busy making a name for himself with our art department. I followed you out there, wondering how he could miss an opportunity to kiss you that night. You didn't have to turn around to see it was me coming, my heavy tread and musky scent giving me away. The slow build up of the night coming to this moment when I could finally be alone with you. I put my hand on the small of your back, I could feel how slim you were through your clothes.

"Happy New Years." You said so softly, it was almost like you didn't want him to hear you.

"Happy New Years." I whispered back into your hair. It smelled like smoke and sweat, and something fruity. I kissed your hair first, moving to your cheek. Your cheeks were burning, they felt so warm and soft under my lips. Moving to your soft lips. Our kiss started so slow, your lips eventually parting gently, allowing me entrance into your hot mouth. You tasted like champagne and strawberries, I'll always associate the taste of strawberries with you. Your slim arms around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to you. My hands on your sharp hips. I was kneading them through your jeans in my hands.

You pulled me into a parked car, it wasn't my car, maybe it was his. I never wanted your first time to be in a parked car with a drunk college boy. You pulled me on top of your small frame, working you out of tight tee shirts and tighter jeans. Your clothes were so tight, they hugged your frame, making you all the more desirable to me. I laid you back against the back seat, just looking at your bare skin. You blushed fetchingly, not used to seeing male eyes burn for you. I unzipped my cords, you pushed them down to my knees. I pressed thick fingers into your tightness, you were so hot, your blood aflame. You looked at me with black eyes, darkened with lust for a man you barely knew. Did you think of him when I pressed into you? Slowly, not wanting to shock or hurt you. You let out this strange noise, half in pain, half in pleasure. I tried to go slow, but the Jack Daniels and the heat of your body made me cocky, fearless. I thrust into your small frame, your whines of pain easily switching to whimpers of pleasure. I emptied myself into you, holding you to me as I came. You came soon after, my touch bringing you to fulfillment. You were whispering into my neck, I reached down to touch your pale thigh, my hand coming up wet with blood.

"Don't leave me." You whispered, your eyes falling closed. I held you in the back seat of a stranger's car. I helped you clean yourself up, pull on those tight clothes. You stepped out first, wincing slightly, trying to walk like nothing had happened. I held your hand until we got to the door, parting like we didn't know each other. You went to him, sat in his lap as he talked about taking pictures of empty lots to a girl with a pierced nose. He put his face in your pale neck for a moment.

You were getting up to leave, slipping a pink hoodie over your tee shirt. He was all ready out the door, waiting for you. You came to me, ignoring everything around us. You pressed your soft lips to mine, I put my hand on your cheek. I always tell myself that I could feel them wet with tears, knowing I'll never see you again. When you pulled away, my lips felt cold. I watched you from that big window in the living room, pretending I wasn't surround by marijuana smoke, drunk people screaming to each other. I watched you slip into the front seat of his car, drive off.

I dream about you sometimes, do you still think about me? When you're in your english class, reading Shakespeare, do you imagine you're Juliet to my Romeo, we have such a tragic love. Do you see me when you sit down at lunch and eat your orange, peeling all the skin off like you peeled the layers off me until you found something you liked? I look into puddles and see your eyes on rainy days, I see you when I lay in bed at night, feel your warm body next to mine. I can still taste strawberries on my mouth.

graceful_lily @ 2006-12-06T00:18:00

2006-12-06T04:18:37Z

Title: The Object of Beauty
Chapter Title: Beauty in Decay(chapter two)
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: R for this chapter, a scene of masturbation, Hard R/NC-17 for later
Summary: "The Uries' have a son you know, he's our age, I knew him before they shut the house down."
Notes: AU Fiction
Disclaimer: Not real, kids

Finding Out

I kept hearing those words over and over in my head. "Come back tomorrow." That soft voice, the haunted eyes. I wanted to hear that voice in my ear always. I laid in bed that night, the air in my room hot and thick, I refused to open my window, not until I was ready to meet the object of beauty. I felt sweat roll down my back, pooling in the waist of my boxer short. I could feel my bed shift, I'm sure I was imagining it, like someone was with me, in my mind I saw my beauty come in. The baggy clothes he wore hiding a slim figure. I saw my beauty crawl up the bed, silent as a cat. Eyes shining black with lust, soft, full lips parted. My beauty smelled like fruit and smoke, and something I would requite with desire. I flipped us, so I was now on top of my beauty, pinning my beauty's skinny arms over his head. My beauty looked up at me, his lower lip slightly pouted as my mouth captured it in a swift move. I kissed my beauty hard, my beauty arching his sharp hips up into me with a whimper. Clothes were shed, he looked like he was satin stretched over bone. I felt heat engulf my length, I heard soft moans of my name. "Ryan, oh God, yes, take me." They all rolled together in my pleasure addled brain. I thrust into my beauty, my beauty taking every last thrust, every last drop until I came with a soft moan and spilled himself onto me. I jolted with a start and looked at my wet boxer short and covered hand and felt ashamed.

I watched the clock, watched it turn 11:30, I was ready to crawl out my window and ride my bike towards my object of beauty. The air was hot and heavy, I could all ready feel myself break into a sweat, and I hadn't even peddled a block. The beauty's house getting closer and closer, the slate cover roof coming into view first, then its peeling paint, the shutters which were closed. I was right outside, hiding my bike in the shaggy, over grown bushes. I saw my beauty on the porch, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. blowing smoke into the still night air. His tee shirt hung on his thin, non existent curves. He raised his skinny arms and stretched, revealing sharp hip bones poking out of loose fitting pajama pants. I got closer to the beauty, I could smell fruit conditioner, smoke, and something that was distinctly Brendon. Brendon, I had never called my beauty that. I liked the way I could roll it on my tongue. Brendon, Brendon. Brendon looked up to see me and a small smiled graced his beautiful lips.

"Hi." The beauty said softly. He stubbed out his cigarette and came closer to me, moving silently on the lawn. I suddenly got nervous, I broke out into a cold sweat. My heart was beating in my chest and I was sure Brendon could hear it. My mouth was dry, and I could tell Brendon would start to feel uncomfortable if I didn't say something quickly. I was in awe of finally seeing this beautiful boy again, to have be in the presence of a mystery, listening to his soft voice, and looking at his inky black hair against ghostly pale skin.

"Hi." I squeaked out. I cleared my throat and the beauty smiled at me. "Would you like to go for a walk?" I asked the beauty nervously. The beauty nodded and followed me. I started talking and couldn't stop. I told the beauty of life at a Catholic school, and how he wasn't missing much, and how the kids were mean to me. Of Brent and Spence, how they were my only friends, they were starting a band. "Maybe some day you could check it out." I stammered nervously. Brendon just looked down and tried to hide a smile at the thought of me on stage.

"I used to sing." The beauty told him softly, his eyes glazing over as if he thinking of somewhere else. "I used to sit at my piano and play for hours." Brendon suddenly looked very small again, like he retreated back inside of himself. I reached out, brave for the first time, and held the beauty's hand in mine. Brendon looked at me, surprised, but he didn't push me away. He just simply allowed me to hold on to his hand, welcoming the feel of human contact after all this time.

"Thank you." He said softly and left it at that. They walked around the block in an easy silence, enjoying each other's company. I kept sneaking glances at Brendon, looking amazed how easy it was to be around someone I desired so greatly. Brendon looked around in amazement, of how it felt to be out of his prison. He hadn't been outside in years, he couldn't believe he escaped. When they returned back to the beauty's house, I still couldn't believe something so ugly could hold someone so beautiful, we stood in the rose bushes, away from Mrs. Urie's watchful eyes.

"I hope you liked your venture into the outside world." I whispered, suddenly shy again. Brendon smiled softly at me and leaned over and kissed my cheek very gently. He gave my hand one more squeeze and disappeared back into the house. I touched the spot where Brendon's lips were, the spot burning. I rode his bike home that night, wondering if I even wanted to share the encounter with Spencer or Brent. I laid awake that night, getting up with the sun for school. Everytime I close his eyes, I could see soft hair and full lips and the way my beauty looked when he smiled.

Over the next few weeks, the midnight visitations became a regular thing, going to see my beauty every night at midnight on the dot. We would go for walks, or sit on the porch and I would talk to my beauty, bringing him news of the outside world. I told him someday I would bring Spence and Brent to meet him, but I wasn't ready to share my beauty just yet. I was staying up all night with my beauty and rushing home to change for school. I wasn't sleeping and everyone started to notice something was different.

"You look tired." Brent said between mouthfulls of M&M's one day.

"Did you fall asleep in math?" Asked Spence worriedly over lunch.

"Why are we getting notes from your teachers saying you're falling asleep in class?" Asked my father holding up a letter sighing.

I didn't care, I felt I was rescuing my beauty every night, every night they managed to sneak out, and he could breath fresh air, or touch blades of grass. He was free for a few hours, like someone who wasn't caged by a religion he didn't believe in. My beauty would look at me with dark eyes and smiled shyly when they would part for the night, it made my heart ache just a little bit more each night.

graceful_lily @ 2006-07-27T22:09:00

2006-07-28T03:14:55Z

Title: The Object of Beauty
Chapter Title: Finding out (chapter one)
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: Pg-13 for this chapter, Hard R/NC-17 for later
Summary: "The Uries' have a son you know, he's our age, I knew him before they shut the house down."
Notes: AU Fiction
Disclaimer: Not real, kids.

We sat across from Blake, as he sucked orange cheeto dust off his fingers, waiting for him to tell us more. Brent looked expectantly at his older brother as Spence and I sat gaped mouth. Everyone had their own take on them, the Urie family. Some of our neighbours say they locked their own children up, pulled them out of school. The older daughter ran away supposedly, to the east coast. The younger Urie, a boy, never came out, stayed locked in their fanaticism alone.

"Fine, fine, I'll only tell you what I know about Sabrina, and the rest is hearsay, just like what you guys know." He said leaning back in his chair. "She was in my art class at school, she would draw all these pictures of tunnels, they would start out black, and then there would be a light at the end." He said in a hushed tone. "One day, she stopped showing up for school, and our teacher said she was going to be homeschooled for now on." He told us shaking his head in disagreement. "But they locked her up, and she couldn't take it anymore, I saw her by the bus station. She just picked a bus and got on, she only had a backpack with her." He told us. "That's when Mrs. Urie lost it you know," he said leaning towards us. "She wouldn't let the younger one go out in the day light, she threw out all his cds, the cable was shut off. He had no outside connection to our world, she thought it would corrupt him." He told us. "Some people try to get a look at him, to make sure he's even real, but they've never been able to." He told us smirking. "But I have, he's real, I've seen him." He told us. "You have to be really quiet, so she won't hear you, she never sleeps, she's an insomniac, but if you have balls, you can do it." He taunted us, knowing Brent would take the bait. Brent scoffed, choosing not to believe Blake. Blake talked big and I wasn't so sure on his story myself.

"How do we know you're not trying to get us in trouble?" I asked him cautiously. Blake rolled his beady eyes at me and scoffed.

"Do you think I would care enough about you pussies Ross, to try and get you in trouble?" He asked in his taunting tone.

We shook our heads no and Brent motioned for us to follow him up the stairs. We sat crossed legged on Brent's floor putting our heads together. Should we go look for the elusive younger Urie? Spence didn't want to risk getting caught, Brent wasn't so sure himself. I wanted to see the younger Urie, just to make sure he was real.

"Blake told us that story to get to sneak out and have my parents ground me for eternity." Brent told us huffing.

"It an adventure, it could be fun." I pointed out. "Come on, if its all a lie, then we turn back and go home." I said shrugging. Ryan Ross doing something impulsive, who would have thought. Brent groaned as he got up from his spot on the floor, rolling his eyes and Spence just shook his head and said nothing. We snuck out of Brent's window, climbing down his lemon tree. Riding our bikes as silently as ghosts in the night. Looking at our quiet neighbourhood in the blanket of sleep. We made our way the Urie house, marveling at its down fall. Shingles falling off the roof, grass almost past our ankles. The once prize winning garden, now dead and decaying. We put our bikes near the bushes, hidden from the view of Mrs. Urie. We pressed our faces, pale with fear against the window, looking through what we thought were ragged curtains, but as we discovered, were a thin layer of dirt.

"This is stupid." Spence whispered, voice slightly shaking with fear. I wiped my spot clean with my palm, looking into the house that seemed to be crumbling from the inside. A boy came down the stairs, pale and thin. He had his arms folded around the middle of his body, like he was in pain. Dark eyes scanned the room, looking right past us through the window. He sat on the piano bench, we could see his spine curved under his tee shirt. Spence poked me in my side and we just looked at each, satisfied.

"Come on, we've seen him, lets go." Brent said looking around.

"We'll need proof." Spence pointed out. "Who has their phone?" He asked. I fumbled with my phone, holding it up to the window, capturing an image of him. He looked up, saw the flash, walked towards the window. We stumbled over each other, trying to get away as fast as we could. I tripped, falling into the bush.

"Go!" I said frantically to Brent and Spence, breaking into a sprint. "I can catch up with you." I tried to untangle my pant leg from the rose bush with no luck. I heard the door open and saw him standing there.

His eyes were so dark against his pale skin, he looked like he hadn't seen the sun in years. His hair black, falling on his forehead. Thin legs, tee shirt hung over a small frame. Full soft looking lips, I wanted to touch them. He was an object of beauty.

"Who are you and why are you spying on me?" He asked me quietly. I was surprised by the weight of maturity in his voice.

"I'm sorry, my name is Ryan Ross, and I wanted to see if you were real." I said the words failing me, leaving me feeling stupid under this boy's gaze. He sighed, as if he found stupid teenage boys spying on him all the time. He stepped off the porch and bent down, untangling my pant leg from the rose bush. I looked up at the pale face and dark eyes. My focus falling on the soft lips that reminded me of fruit. I stood up, I was an inch taller than he was.

"There you go." He said simply. I kept staring at his mouth forming words that seemed to flow out of those beautiful lips. "My mother will see you, go." He said again.

I impulsively turned back to him before grabbing my bike. "I want to see you again." I said desperate for one more encounter with this caged boy. "Please, tomorrow night." I said pressing my luck.

He didn't say anything for a what seemed like an eternity, but he turned back to look at me before going back into that decaying prison. "Fine, come back tomorrow, around midnight, don't be loud." He said shutting the door.

I wondered if he would actually go through with that.

graceful_lily @ 2006-07-25T23:22:00

2006-07-26T04:42:53Z

Title: Packing
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Summary: It was your last night together, before he went off to start his new life as a college student.
NOtes: AU High school graduation fic
Disclaimer: Not real, kids.

I watch you pack up your belongs, your prized possessions in cardboard boxes, marked with the food stand that were gracious to donate to you. I sat on your unmade bed, rubbing my skinny arms, not moving to help you. I wasn't going to aid in the thing that ripped you away from me.

You stopped packing your massive cd collection, and smiled, meeting my sad eyes with your warm brown ones. You ambled towards me, trying to wipe the frown off my face. I just stared at you, my sadness starting to wash over me slowly. You sat across from me on your bed, taking my hands in yours. Neither of us saying anything. I looked away from you, the tears stinging my eyes, I felt them trickle down my cheeks. You bring your calloused hand up and wipe them off with your thumbs. Your thumbs stroked along my cheek bone down to my trembling lower lip. I try so hard not to cry in front of you, I can't make you feel bad for wanting to escape here.

"Don't cry Bren." You say into my hair, Tipping my chin up, so we can look into each other's eyes. I try to look away, I can't look at you when you're so comforting, and I'm still so sad. I can't imagine life without you, without meeting you between classes, or sharing my grapes with you at lunch. Watching you graduate, George Ryan Ross, hearing the name George brings a frown to my face, knowing you're not really George, you've always been just Ryan. The way you hold me in the parking lot, after most of the cars had pulled out, people going home to families that love them. We bond in our misery, our parents only strengthening the union they hoped to destroy. My parents shouting at me, threatening me, pulling me away from you by my upper arm. Your dad hitting you hard across your ear, throwing you out, we both sob, holding each other in our spot, the merry-go-round at the park. It was the only time you cried in front of me, you were so strong, you never wanted me to think anything was wrong.

"I can't help it." I tell you, wiping tears off my face. We press our foreheads together, holding each other's hands tightly.

"I'll always love you." You say, hot breath against my face. We lay on your unmade bed, it smells like you, clean and musky. The sheets were dark navy blue. My tee shirt was white, thin. It contrasted against the dark sheets. I laid on my back, stretching out like a cat in the sun. I looked up at your ceiling, hearing your father groan in his sleep, passing out after a long day. You turned to me and I put my hand on your cheek. Your hands sliding down my cheeks to my throat, you stopped there for a moment, ghosting the touch, and down to my chest. I roll over on top of you, my legs on either side of you. Your hands reach up on my hipbones, clutching them in my jeans. I slipped my tee shirt off, threw it on to the floor, mixing with your clothes. Your hands played with my belt, white, pyramid spikes, the scene uniform. The sweat pooled in the waistband of my tight girl jeans, the blow of the air conditioner cooling me off. Your hands were so steady as you pulled my belt off and peeled down my jeans off my hips. I pressed down on you, and you pressed up. I could feel you through your work uniform pants, dirty khaki cargos, stained with secret sauces and seasonings. I arch my hips up so you can slip my boxer shorts off, naked before you. I keep thinking about how this was our last night together, last night before everything changed.

"Stop thinking." You whisper as I feel your hands run over my hipbone, down my backside. I take your long fingers in my mouth, sucking on them slowly before you stretch me. I wince in pain, and try to brace myself on your shoulder. You stoke my hipbone so lovingly, and I know it will be all right. You would never hurt me on our last night together. You whisper in my ear as you slip into me, full stinging. I bite my lower lip to keep from crying out, Brand New is on repeat on your stereo, our safety net. I shift on you, trying to find my spot. the pain subsides, and I feel pleasure falling over me like water. You grunt my name into my neck, and I clutch blindly to you, whispering I love you in the dark. You release inside me, burning and wet, and I've never felt anything like it. I come in your hand, panting your name. Its still on my tongue, Ryan, Ryan, Ryan.

We lay side by side in your sheets, listening to Brand New long after its over. I keep looking at you, tracing your features in the dark, my fingers over your face. you grab my hand suddenly and turn to face me, putting my hand on your chest.

"Tell me." I whisper to you, holding my hand to your chest. "I just need to hear you say once more, before you leave me." I plead. You pull me to your chest and look me in my eyes.

"You all ready know, you know I love you." You say, whispering into my hair. "I'll always love you."

That next morning, wearing your clothes, I watch you pack your car up, standing at the edge of your driveway. You press your hand against the window, and your father watches you from inside your house. I stumble to your car and press my hand against your window. You mouth through the glass "I'll always love you." And I can't help but believe you.

graceful_lily @ 2006-07-15T22:30:00

2006-07-16T04:17:26Z

Title: Marvelous Things
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Summary: He's your angel. But he doesn't know it, he sees through you.
NOtes: AU High school fic
Disclaimer: Not real, kids.

You're watchful. Always watching him, in class, in hallways, outside smoking. Full lips graceful around cigarettes, blowing smoke like Dietrich in the Blue Angel. Fitting title, he's your angel. But he doesn't know it, he sees through you. You stand invisible in the hallway, like a silent guard, watching him with boys who are no good. Watching him touch his throat, his shoulder, drawing their eyes there. Slow seduction in fifteen year old form. Boys who wear black and come from broken homes, whose names are always called out on the intercom to come to the principals' office. You wonder what they offer him, or maybe the correct question is, what he offers them. Big chocolate eyes that can see right through you. You watch him hold biology, french books, carrying them like fruit to an emperor. His wrists looks delicate in green terry cloth wrist bands, you could wrap your long fingered hand around them easily. You see him one day, in the band storage room, pinned against a locker by the boy who plays first trumpet in your class. You hold your guitar dumbly, waiting for jazz band to start. He looks over the boy's shoulder at you as the boy devours his neck. His eyes held a curious statement, but not a hostile one.

"I'm sorry." You mumble before walking out the room with a face as red as your tee shirt. The boy couldn't stop staring at you in class. You interrupted him in passion. You could feel glowing eyes warm with hate on your back. You take your guitar home that night without its case. You see him walking home, smoking and watching the sky. He looks over at you, small smile gracing full lips. You feel brave, Taking Back Sunday on your car stereo.

"Want a ride?" You ask slowing down next to him. You feel like those men your parents would warn you about. I got some candy, come in the car, I won't hurt you. He hesitates for a moment, stubbing out the cigarette with the toe of his skater shoes. Yellow and blue, you think your last girlfriend had those shoes.

"Sure." He says getting in the car. "Brave." You think. He has one class with you, photography one. You see him in the dark room, developing pictures of punk bands. Shows the boys will take him to, in backseats of dirty parked cars.

"You're in my photo class." You say all in one breath. "I'm Ryan." You add hastily.

"Brendon." He answered watching you curiously, he didn't know what to make of you and your nervous energy. He settles back into his seat, and watches your neighbourhood go by. He kicks his messenger bag lightly, moving it to one side.

"Do you want to hang out?" You ask him.

"Sure." He answers easily. He never talks, maybe he never talks to you. You pull up in your driveway, nervous like you're on your first date. He steps so easily, into your world like he's known you forever. In your room, he studies the band posters on your wall, sitting on your bed that sinks in the middle. He lays back his arms above his head. You lay next to him, his soft lips slightly parted. You want to lean over and kiss him, but what would you lose? You close your eyes and kiss him softly on the corner of his mouth. He looks back at you with a mix of surprise and softness. He didn't expect that, boys don't kiss him on the corners of his mouth. He kissed you back, his soft hand on your burning cheek, his lips on yours. You kiss back harder, wanting more from a fifteen year old with sad eyes than you've ever wanted in your life. You rolled on his frame, feeling sharp hipbones in tight girl jeans jut out. You ran your hand over his sides, soft tee shirt material blocking you from his skin. He spreads his legs a little wider so you can lay between them, and you can't help but wonder how many others have laid there before. He lifts his thin arms up, letting you pull the tee shirt off his frame, you throw it by the side of your bed. His skin is soft and pale, just like you thought it would be. You imagined this moment in your room alone, so many nights, feeling guilty afterwards. He presses his sharp hips against yours, eyes closed. He unclasps your belt like a bored supermarket check out girl, having done this many times before. You try to ignore the mundaneness of his actions, and focus on the moment you've been waiting for.

"Do you have a condom?" He asks you softly." You pull the condom your older brother gave you "just in case" out of your wallet. He unwraps it and unrolls it on to you. Just like in the movies your brother watches when your parents aren't home. You start to sweat, you've never done this before. You wonder how you'll measure up to everyone who has gone before you, you imagine him laughing with the mean looking boys you see him standing with in the morning. The ones with the black dyed hair and peircings in their lips and septums. You close your eyes and push into him, hearing him wince in the back of his throat. You opened your clenched eyes and saw tears rolling down his cheeks. You brushed them away in concern, he opened his eyes at you.

"Do you want me to stop?" You asked him, touching his cheek.

"No, it will get better, start moving." He whispered. You did, trying to find the position that made him stop holding his breath. You heard a breathy sigh and you knew you found something. You move heavy and steady, listening to his panting. You move to touch him, holding him in your hand. He wraps his long legs around your waist, pulling you in deeper. You close your eyes and see splotches of colour behind them, you can't think straight. You try to last for him, but its too much. The heat of his body, the tightness constricting around you. You come first, groaning his name. He finishes himself off and you blush, feeling inadequate. He just lays there for a minute, dark eyes closed, catching the breath hitched in his throat. You try to keep your cool around him, acting like you take home beautiful boys everyday. The moment you finally had the beauty you've been chasing mentally for months now, you want to weep.

He sits up, cleaning himself off with a kleenex from your night stand, balling it up in his small hand. He pulls on his clothes and hands you yours. You feel rejected for some reason, and you can't say why. Your blue angel takes a cigarette from a pack and stands next to the open window, and blows smoke out of the corner of his mouth, the same corner you kissed that started all of this. He turns to you with sad eyes and dark hair that stands up in the back. You move to him scaredly, just as scared as you were in the car this afternoon. You lost your virginity, given to a scarred beauty with a bad habit of smoking and the wrong boys. He lets you put your awkward lanky arms around him and pull his small frame to your skinny one.

"Don't be afraid." Was all he said to you, his face pressed in your bare chest.

"I'm not." You lied. You stand there with him, under cool autumn air in front of your open window. You know you need to take him soon, but you can't move. You hold him like you hold something fragile, not letting go, not just yet.

graceful_lily @ 2006-01-18T01:30:00

2006-01-18T04:16:27Z

Story Title: This is my last breath of air, your last chance to love
Pairing: Spencer/Brendon, Brent/Ryan
Rated: R for sexual situations and imagery, and language
Disclaimer: Not real. I don't own PATD, and most likely, this never happened.
Summery: "Remember that one summer?" He asked that every year.

I shielded my eyes from sun, forgetting the mirrored glasses that I always thought made me look oh so cool. I watched them flirt, Brent picked Ryan up and threw him in the pool. They were always like that, witty banter and subtle touching. Brent always paid the most attention to Ryan, poking at him, and teasing him. Ryan would brush him off at first, giving him strange looks and turning away from his affections. Brent would slowly work him down, winning him over with nights of studying, and decaf vanilla frapps. I watched as their love started to burn, and mine began to cool.

I saw it in Brendon's eyes, when he turned away from my kiss, the hesitation in his voice. My honeyed words started to float over Brendon's head and away. I could feel our bond breaking, the bond I thought was stronger than steel. Brendon wasn't mine anymore, somewhere along our senior year and the summer, I lost him somewhere on the road. I watched him come out of the sliding glass door, carrying a tray of sodas, setting them down on the table like the perfect like hostess. I caught his eye, he matched my stare, daring me to acknowledge what I all ready knew.

I worked my courage up that night, driving down the street to his house, I saw him sitting on his porch, looking up at the stars. He looked right through me as I got out of my beat up car, the blue paint peeling off. I remembered nights of driving aimlessly with him, his laughter as I would choose stupid pop songs on the radio to make him smile. When we would lay on the hood of my car, parked out somewhere quiet, and I would touch his dark hair and look into his dark eyes. The first time I ever kissed him, his eyes closed. The feel of his pale skin under my fingers, over his hip bones and down his thigh. The sound of his breath hitched in his throat as I lay on top of him. The way our bodies fit perfectly together, coming together as one. His legs around my waist, the back seat of my beat up old car, the interior faded by the sun.

"Hi." He said plainly. The porch light glowed gold, shadowing his dark features. It hooded his eyes, giving hin a haggard look.

"Hi, do you want to go for a drive?" I asked him quietly.

"Sure." He stood up and walked passed me to my car, I went to open the door for him, but he jerked away from the handle. I gave up and let him do it himself. I watched his face as he slid in the passenger side. We drove in silence, Bright Eyes in the cd player. It sounded twinkling, like tears in the music. I kept glancing at him, he looked out the window, face slightly turned to the side. I reached over and touched his cheek, a simple gesture. He turned to me and I could see things in his face that I never could read before. This mixture of compassion, guilt, and sadness. I knew it was over, but I couldn't quite let it go yet.

We layed on the hood of my car, his tee shirt rode up and I could see his pale stomach. I wanted to kiss him there, I wanted to ask him why he didn't want to be with me anymore, I wanted to beat his strong featured face in at the same time.

"I'm sorry." Was all he said to me, his eyes settled in on mine.

"Please Brendon," I started to say. I put my hand on his thin wrist and brought it to my lips. "Please don't do this."

"I've been thinking of this for a while, we're too different, we're going to different colleges, this is futureless." Brendon wouldn't meet my eye. My anger flared a little, he threw away everything we had. "Fucking coward bitch." I thought bitterly, I just held his gaze like he would hold mine.

"I'm not just going to let go Brendon, I'm not like you. How can you be so cold?" I asked him. I pleaded with him and at the same time I hated him. I couldn't imagine losing him.

"Please take me home." I still had his wrist in my hand, I ran my forefinger over the terry cloth wrist band he had on. He went to pull away, but halfway through, he gave up. I put my other hand on his pale cheek again, like we were back in the car, turned his face so he was facing me again. He looked down, couldn't even meet my eyes. I leaned down and kissed him on his nose. He smiled slightly. I wanted to take this as a sign, as something to grasp on to. But I couldn't.

"Do you remember that one summer?" He asked me quietly. "That summer we spent together?"

"Of course I do." I answered back. "I'll never forget it." I wanted to say I'll never forget you.

"Me neither."

The summer of our sophomore year, the first summer we were ever together. We spent our summer swimming, and drinking the beer his older sister would sneak for us. I pushed him on his tire swing, and we would lay in the grass and watch the clouds. He always smelled like shampoo and something that was very Brendon, I could still smell it on my skin. His lips full and soft, yielding to mine.

He crossed his arms across his middle like he was in pain, his eyes shined a little. I brought his wrist to my lips again, it felt so frail in my hands. "Why are you doing this?" I asked again. "You don't want this, I don't want this." I pleaded with him.

"I have to Spence, its not working anymore, please don't make this any harder than it all ready is." He pleaded back to me. "I need to go now, please take me home."

"I'm not taking you home." I said my grip was tighter in his wrist now, I could feel him tensing. "I need you to stop lying to me Bren." I kept pulling him towards me, he fought a little, but I know in my anger, I could have done anything.

"Because I don't love you anymore!" He said louder than I expected. "Are you happy? I just wanted this to be easy for us, to have a clean break, maybe stay friends. But you wouldn't listen, I don't love you anymore." He said quietly again. I didn't believe him for a second. I knew he still loved me, I knew he was lying. I kept my grip on his wrist and cupped my other hand around his chin, pulling his face towards mine again. I wanted to hit him, just to feel my fist against his soft pale cheek. Or maybe against his beautiful eye, dark and shining, marring what was once mine. I could feel the anger rising up in my throat like I was going to throw up. I felt my hand rise too and before I could stop my myself, I hit him. Across the face, leaving a purple mark on his cheek. He started to cry a little bit, he buried his face in his hands. I reached out to put my hand on his shoulder and he jerked away. Too fast, he lost his balance and fell off the hood of my car.

When he got up, he just stared at me, and left, took off walking fast down the road.

"Brendon, wait, please." I yelled after him, watching his figure grow smaller and he disappeared under the lit streets. I got into my car, I needed to go after him, I wanted him to know I was sorry. I drove along side of him, his cheeks burning red, tear stained.

"Get away from me." He said quietly, dangerously. "Leave me the fuck alone, I never want to see you again!" He screamed this at me. "I hate you so much, get out of my life." Brendon turned away from me. We weren't far from home, I could let him walk out here all by himself. "Bren its late, please just get in the car." I said again.

I hit Brendon, the thought just kept swimming in my head over and over. I could see myself doing it in slow motion, I could see him falling off the hood of my car. I could see him falling out of my life. He would go away to Stanford, to new friends, a new boyfriend. Someone politically active, passionate like he was. Or maybe with someone who came from money, blonde and handsome. I could see him going to parties, drunk off keg beer, laughing with people smarter than I was.

It was very clear to me in that moment that he was gone, something that I denied for weeks. I pulled over and turned my car off, letting his frame get smaller and smaller until he turned the corner and was gone. I sat there, Bright Eyes was over by then. I wanted to cry, but I wouldn't allow myself to.

I spent the next day packing things away, the things I was taking to college with me. I heard a knock at my door, it was soft and unsure. I looked up and saw Brendon standing there, his eyes sad, cheek bruised.

"I thought we should talk before we leave for school." He said pushing aside a pile of dirty clothes off my desk chair and facing me. He looked very small sitting there, he pulled his knees up to his chest and stared at me.

"Bren, I'm sorry I hit you yesterday." I said, wallowing in my shame. Brendon shrugged, he had given up long ago, he didn't need to hear my excuses anymore.

"I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have yelled at you." He told me. I moved over to him, pulled up a box so we could face each other on the same level. Brendon turned to me with his sad eyes, I put my hand on his. Everything went by in a blur after that, or maybe it was slow motion, I couldn't tell at this point. I kissed him, hard on the lips. We fell back on to my crowded bed, my frame fitting in to his hip bones. My mouth on his throat, I could hear his sigh, his small hands in my hair. His tee shirt over the side of my bed, my hands on his chest. Our limbs tangled, we started to become one again. I always fit into him perfectly, my name on his tongue. I collapsed on top of him, I could never leave him. He looked up at me with his dark eyes, the ones that stared right though you. I reached down and touched his hair, damp from sweat, fragrant. It felt like fire, and you can't stand in the fire for too long without becoming consumed.

"I should go." He said into my chest, "I still have some things to take care of before school." I pulled myself away from him, it was the hardest thing I've had to do in my life, to leave Brendon for once and all.

Brendon left for Stanford at the end of the week, I never went to say good bye to him. Brendon went on to things that I could never have given him, a job writing at a music magazine, a boyfriend who worked hard at becoming successful. The life that someone like Brendon was supposed to lead. I wonder about that would have happened if I had just gone to his house that last day, maybe its wistful thinking on my part. Or maybe it could have pulled him back to me. You can't live in the past, or else you'll be stuck inside your own head forever.

graceful_lily @ 2005-12-19T04:30:00

2005-12-19T07:00:21Z

Story Title: The Couch
Pairing: Travis/Jon
Rated: R for sexual situations and language.
Disclaimer: AU, not real folks. Short little stand alone.

Its how we spent our friday nights, on the couch in your basement. Your basement never changed, the red bean bag chair in the right corner, covered with your older brother's dirty magazines. The ancient plaid couch that reeked of pet deodorizer, and under neath it's thick perfume, your dog Betty. It was a green plaid, with cream and red going through it, I can symbolize that plaid with you now. The spring always ground at my back bone as you lay above me, I could reach up and trace your features with my hand. Your would tell me to close my eyes as you pushed in, the spring still grinding at my backbone. Maybe you thought it would hurt me less not to have to look at you, with that expression of guilt and glee, all mixed together as one.

"Don't worry babe." Was your favourite expression. I always worried we would get caught, your mom finally getting wise to the fact we were not playing video games down here. Your mom almost came down there once, to see if you needed anything. Your mother always doted on you, you were her pride and joy, her baby boy all grown up. I would slump down, hoping she wouldn't see I was there, I never liked the way she looked at me, with a mix of fear and knowingness. You said I had that look in my eye at times, I could see right through you.

Apparently not enough. Did I ever tell you I found six quarters underneath the cushion? I took them, it was to pay me back for our "oh so romantic" dinners at McDonalds. You never quite understood I was a vegetarian, I guess there were a lot of things you don't understand about me. How is your new girlfriend? I think her name was Audrey. I like her fake nails and her fake hair. I've been getting less ugly lately, and eating a lot of graham crackers with frosting. I have to pass the time I used to spend with you on something.

I can't say I miss those Fridays nights, with my eyes closed and the tv on. You didn't always know what I needed, I never could tell what you wanted. My favourite part was afterwards, when you would collapse on me, sweating. I liked to see you undone, you were always in control. You said you liked how I was yin and yang. I was two contradictions rolled into one. I was never as innocent as you thought, maybe I was just stupid. I'll never know now.

Remember when you laughed when Derek asked you if we were close? I remember that. I remember when you told me that this would last forever. How was I supposed to know forever meant only a few more Fridays nights on your couch.

graceful_lily @ 2005-10-31T14:29:00

2005-10-31T18:43:18Z

Story Title: Looking Right Through
Chapter Title: The House of Sleep(Chapter Twenty-three)
Pairing: Chuck/David, Unrequited Pierre/David, Seb/Jeff, some Pat/Pierre
Rated: NC-17/R for implied sexual acts, violence, and language
Disclaimer: I don't own Simple Plan, if so, I wouldn't be stuck studying Art History

David would sit awake at night, by his window, he looked at the quietness of his neighbor hood. Chuck was home now, from college, as was Julie. When Julie was home, the balance shifted in the house, the crown went from David to Julie. Julie was the only girl, David could see why his mother wanted Julie home so badly. His mother never could connect with him after what happened, she was afraid of him. She was afraid he would leave again, steal away in the night, and never leave a note, a clue, anything. She worried that her baby was gone, that the person who came was one of his souls, someone he tossed out when he didn't want it any more. She would check in his room to see if he was still there at night. She would also check to see if he was still breathing, he was so thin, she was worried. David woke up once and saw her sitting by his window weeping, he didn't say anything to her, he just tried to fall back asleep.

"Have you even cracked a book yet for finals?" Steve asked him, sitting in the warm May sun.

"Nope, I know I should, but I've been lazy." David told him. "What's the point if we go to New York." David passed Steve back their water bottle, their high school tradition.

"Davie, we can't run away to New York." Steve started gently. "It was just a crazy thought." Steve was quiet. "I'm going to Harvard, I can't throw that away."

David looked down, he felt betrayed, he had put stock in going to the city. Now, he was back where he started, back in is safe future. He had to study for finals, and graduate. To pick out a dorm room, and find a roommate. Chuck would be pleased, he could stop holding his breath now.

David let Chuck lie between his open legs, kiss his stomach. His physics book laid by the bed, forgotten. David would stroke Chuck's brown hair, and stare at his ceiling.

"Tell me something." David said to Chuck, his voice wavered a little.

"What do you want to hear baby?" Chuck murmured against his stomach.

"Anything."

"You're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, you're not man or woman, just beauty in it's purest form." Chuck told him. "You should wear a wreath of gold and be carried around on some sort of throne." Chuck looked up at him with his warm brown eyes.

"That was very sad and lovely." David said to Chuck, touching his hair with the pads of his finger tips. "You speak with poetry, but you're so efficient, you're very puzzling to me, I like to try and put you together." David told him.

Chuck laughed, his stubble scratched David's stomach, and made him chuckle a little at the feel of it. "I puzzle you?" Chuck asked him. "No, no, no, I think it's the other way around." Chuck took David's hand in his, and kissed each finger. "How did we end up here David?" Chuck asked him. "How did this finally happen for us, we kept having this horrible obsticles, and everything just kept going wrong." Chuck put his ear to David's stomach and listened to the little noises it made.

"This happened because it was fate." David said simply. "Because we were meant to be one and here we are." David touched Chuck's cheek.

"I'm glad you're going to college David, this will be good for you, you can be in one place." Chuck said.

"As long as you're there, then it's exactly where I want to be." David told him softly.

David would read through the college catalogs that Chuck brought home for him. Chosing different schedules, different futures. He would debate over music vs. art. English over science. He liked to pretend he was someone else in each scenario. It was like playing grown up pretend. He knew he had to meet with his adviser soon, and he had to choose one subject, one subject to focus on. One future. He was always nervous meeting with these types, they pressure you into choosing. You needed certain things, math, a phys ed, things like those. David signed up for all freshman classes, and one art class. He always liked the order of the dark room.

On Sundays, Chuck would take David for a ride along the roads in the their small town. They would drive out to the park where they would lie in the grass and watched the clouds, or eat the picnic lunch David's mother would pack for them.

"Have you ever thought of anyone else?" David asked him one afternoon.

"Never." Chuck told him, kissing his neck.

"Even when I was with Luke, I wanted you." David told him. "When I was in Toronto, I kept thinking about being with you." David laid his head on Chuck's chest, he could hear his heart thumping.

"I wish you would have said something Dave, you knew how I felt about you." Chuck said. "I feel like we wasted so much time."

"It wasn't wasted Chuck, this helped us more than hurt us." David told him. "It made us realize what we want, and what we didn't. I'm glad I was with Luke, because it made me want to be with you even more."

Chuck didn't say anything because he didn't have to, because in moments like these, it's best when you don't.

David sat at the plastic red table, and tried not to watch Seb and Jeff make out sloppily. Their slurping noises was putting him off his pretzel, and making him feel sick. He never went to the mall in their town, only when he had to. it was loud and bright, and it made his head hurt.

"Can you guys please not make out." David pleaded. "It's gross." David was sick of watching them devour each other. "You were supposed to help me find a birthday gift for my mother." He said. He knew he should have asked Steve to help him. David's head ached, and he wished Jeff would have to go back to work. Jeff worked at one of those mall pizza stations over the summer. Seb pulled himself away from Jeff's grasp and looked at David in sympathy.

"sorry, I know, I should have been helping you pick out your gift." Seb said. Once they entered the depths of the mall, David just grabbed the first thing off the list Julie made for him. He knew the party would be boring, and Julie would skip out early to go drinking with her girl friends. He would be have to play the good son, and listen to her work friends laugh about their awful boss. Chuck would go through the torture with him, they would drink Shirley Temples and eat the cake that David would never pick. They would sneak off later and kiss and watch the night sky on the porch swing.

During the week of finals, David spent every minute of his waking existence stuffing his brain full of physics formulas, math equations, and European history dates. He would chat the formulas under his breath, reading flash cards as he walked through the halls. He needed good marks to survive school with Chuck, so they could stay together. David and Chuck signed up to room together, in the dorm that everyone joked was haunted. They liked it because it was private. David and Steve would squeeze each other's hands before each final. On the last day of school, they checked the list together, they had both passed grade twelve and David's marks were better than they were in years. On graduation day, they both skipped the ceremony, drinking champagne and eating pizza on the hood of Julius's car with Chuck, Julius, Sebby, and Jeff. They passed around the bottles, toasting the end to high school.

graceful_lily @ 2005-10-16T23:39:00

2005-10-17T02:50:56Z

Story Title: Looking Right Through
Chapter Title: I'm outside your window with my radio(Chapter Twenty-two)
Pairing: Chuck/David, Unrequited Pierre/David, Seb/Jeff, some Pat/Pierre
Rated: NC-17/R for implied sexual acts, violence, and language
Disclaimer: I don't own Simple Plan, if so, I wouldn't be stuck studying Art History

Chuck would send David mixed CD's, all of his favourite songs mixed together effortlessly. Letter Kills with Mae, Motion City Soundtrack with Promise Ring. Old school Rancid with new school Jack's Mannequin. Study mix, slow mix, crying mix. Romance mix with cheesy 80's songs, Lionel Richie was David's favourite. David kept them all in his memory box, with all their movie ticket stubs, and menus. It was his box of Chuck, and he placed it in the center of his alter piece. Chuck was always worried David would pick up and move on without looking back, but he never how much David needed him. Chuck became David's religion, he was in David's blood. David would pass the CD's along to Steve, so he could listen to Chuck's cooing words, each song meant something. Steve wrinkled his nose up at the Rancid, and would bop along to Motion City Soundtrack. Steve thought Chuck didn't know how to mix a CD, he picked songs that didn't have that harmony with each other. David didn't care, he liked it because Chuck took the time to make it.

David sat in his bath tub listening to the CD's, his knees up against his chest as he thought. His mind clouded with the steam and smell of his mother's vanilla rose bath salts. He would take baths during the early cold months of spring sometimes, hot water and the sound of rain outside. He could hear his sister playing her Chicago CD for the tenth time that week. He hated when she had finals, she would listen to the same music as she studied, she said it helped her concentrate on essay questions and high marks.

"Are you all right darling?" His mother called outside the door.

"Yes, I'm just sitting here in the tub." He answered back.

Sometimes the steam and the smell helped him sleep, he never slept anymore. He would lay awake listening to the house creak, listening to the voice in his head ask him over and over what he was going to do. If he could throw not only his future away, but Chuck's as well. Chuck was the taste on his tongue, sharp and sweet, mint and coffee. He could smell his clean musky scent, and hear his voice, slightly lisping over certain vowls. David would knead the pale skin between his legs sometimes, working to let out all the thoughts that built up, relieving some tension.

He walked the cool halls of the art museum in Toronto, the paint smelled like mint and the security guard watched him carefully. Chuck gripped his small pale hand, and pointed out the famous works. Degas and his dancers, Monet and his smudgy pastels. David liked art that looked like something, fruit in bowls, or a woman in a garden, it didn't matter to him. Chuck liked the strong styles of Kandinsky, or Mondrian, bold primaries. They drank sodas in the museum cafe and Chuck bought him a key chain from the Van Gogh show. They went back to Chuck's dorm room and watched the rain fall. The wind would blow up the student's umbrellas. They left the lights off, Pierre's computer left an early glow in the room. David laid there and traced his fingers over Chuck's facial features in the dark, over his strong jaw and high rounded forehead. Chuck leaned over and braced himself on top of David, his hands on either sides of him. Chuck's mouth was right above his, his breath was warm on David's face. David arched his neck up so he could reach Chuck's lips easily. Chuck's mouth was warm, but soft, tongues over teeth, massaging each other. Chuck could taste the carmel flavour of David's candy, sweet with an undertone of root beer from the sodas they drank. Chuck's hands traced over soft, worn cotton tee shirts, cords worn low on hips. David's breath coming out in short, gasps, his name on David's lips. Chuck's mouth traced over pale skin, rosy nipples, and a slightly concaved stomach. He stopped at the waistband of David's cords, feeling the cool metal of David's spiked belt. His fingers were nimble in pulling it open and tossing it out of the way. His hands were apt at opening zippers, and lowering pants over narrow hips. Of pulling at hips bones, feeling the ridge there. Chuck's mouth tasted David, slightly salty with a musky undertone, to hear the hitch in David's breath, at the change in tone. David would pulled at Chuck's brown hair and let his hips naturally arch up, the contact of Chuck's mouth coming closer. Chuck would eventually pull away, let his mouth travel back up David's slim body, pausing on his waiting mouth this time. Chuck's body fit with David's perfectly, like they were cut from the same cloth. He would push into David gently, finding the angle that was perfect for David. They knew each other's bodies, they knew all the secret places that could bring the other to their knees. They would collapse on each other, they limbs all tangled together, you couldn't tell where one started and the other ended. They would lie their together afterwords, their eyes closed, the spasms of colours behind their eyes, better than what they just saw at the museum. David sat on the window sill, smoking his black cigarettes, Chuck took a slow drag, blow the smoke out of the corner of his mouth like David would. David put his cold hand on Chuck's warm cheek, smiling his little half comma smile as Chuck buried his face in his hair.

They laid in Chuck's bed that night, Pierre was off as always. probably staying at Pat's. They passed a fruit roll up back and forth, David was wearing his glasses.

"Do you think it will always be like this?" David asked him, peeling away a star from the plastic like fruit.

"Of course I do, we'll always be like this Davie." Chuck kissed his knuckles.

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

graceful_lily @ 2005-10-06T01:21:00

2005-10-06T04:34:37Z

Story Title: Looking Right Through
Chapter Title: Clip your Wings(Chapter Twenty-one)
Pairing: Chuck/David, Unrequited Pierre/David, Seb/Jeff, some Pat/Pierre
Rated: NC-17/R for implied sexual acts, violence, and language
Disclaimer: I don't own Simple Plan, if so, I wouldn't be stuck studying Art History

David sat across from Steve on his bed, they ate peanut butter on apple slices and pondered on where the last three months of high school would take them.

"I've always like peanut butter on stuff." Steve said lamely. He was actually speechless for once.

"Steve!" David laughed and shoved his friend's shoulder. "We still have three months before we have to get that awkward I miss you weird language." David told him.

"It's just so sad knowing we're going to be so far away from each other soon, I don't know what to say sometimes." Steve didn't really deal well with change, he would rebel against it, or just disappear into his own head. He didn't want to stay in high school forever or anything, he just didn't want to leave his cozy little world he created.

"I know, I think about it too." David put his head on Steve's shoulder, and they passed one of Steve's black cigarettes back and forth. It was unspoken until now that they would be leaving each other, but it was coming closer and closer, they couldn't ignore it now.

"No matter what happens, you're still the best friend I ever had." Steve told him quietly.

"Same here, you understand me better than anyone else ever has." David told him. "I feel like we're separated at birth or something. Maybe we knew each other in another life."

"Maybe we're really the same person, just split into different bodies." Steve told him, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

"I wish you weren't going so far away Steve."

"I wish you could come with me." Steve said. "Hey, have you ever just thought of skipping college, maybe we could just go to New York after school. We could start that band we keep talking about, I mean, do we really need college Davie?"

David thought about that, starting the band he had always wanted to, skipping out on college. New York offered so many things that Toronto couldn't. There was something very important holding him back. Chuck. He couldn't leave Chuck, unless he got Chuck to come with him. It seemed too impulsive for Chuck, but David would never go without him.

"I don't know if I could leave Chuck, Steve." David said. He pulled at a loose string in his comforter. Contrary to it's name, it wasn't providing him with any comfort. There was something romantic in running away to the big city, but David had been down that road once. He had starved for canned food and panhandled in the streets for quarters. He wondered if Chuck would want to give up his cozy future to chase some crazy dream with him.

"Would you ever drop out of college?" David asked Chuck the weekend he came home to see him.

"I don't think so David, I mean, why should I?" Chuck asked him, concern touching his voice.

"Steve had this idea, and I think I might want to do it, but I don't want to leave you again. But Chuck, this is New York, think of it. It could be something really good." David looked at the Rancid poster on his wall.

"David, why are you doing this? This was your future, our future. You worked so hard to make it this far, and now you want to throw it all away for some crazy dream of Steve's?" Chuck asked him incredulously. "No David, I'm not going to run away to New York with you and Steve."

"I'm not saying I'm going with him Steve, I'm saying it's an option Chuck. I just don't want to believe that I'm trapped." David admitted.

"Do you feel trapped with me Dave?" Chuck asked him in a small voice. "Do think I've some how trapped you in this relationship and that you'll never be free again?"

"No! Chuck, no, of course not, you're keeping me here, I would never leave without you." David tried to reassure Chuck.

Chuck thought of David's shining dark hair and pale skin. Of the way he looked in that picture Chuck took, looking up at him with his eyes darkened by lust, a look of someone who would just throw everything away. Go to a big city, meet someone better than him.

"I'll never be good enough for you Dave, I just can't be what you want. No matter how much I love you, or how hard I try to keep you, it just won't happen for us." Chuck could barely get the words out.

"That's not true Chuck, why would you think that?" David asked him. "I came back here for you, to be with you. I love you Chuck, just because I may or may not want to go to college has nothing to do with you, you're more than good enough for me. David reached out to touch Chuck's cheek, but Chuck turned his face away.

"You're always afraid of being tied down, or that you're stuck in one place. You never think about what you could be David, you have this amazing future just handed to you, you have a second chance that not many people have. Don't do this Davie, I'm begging you not to go, please think about this. Chuck took David's small pale hand in his, put it to his cheek.

"You're right, you are. I can't do this, Toronto was such a disaster and I know that." David told him looking down. "I'll never make it in the city, I tried and I failed."

Chuck suddenly felt like he popped David's balloon in front of him. He basically just told the love of his life that he couldn't make it in the big city, he wasn't smart enough, or savvy enough. He wasn't good enough. Chuck might have been putting his own feelings in front of David's, to keep him here, trapped in his possession. He clipped David's wings.

"I love you so much David, it's hurts sometimes, I can't even look at you because I know you're so much better than I am. You're brave, and you're beautiful. You're willing to take chances, and to chase down wild dreams. You scare me and I can't imagine not touching your skin. If you go to New York, I can't leave you again, I just can't walk away, or watch you walk away. I am going to drop out of the University of Toronto. We will pack up my burgundy SUV, and we will drive out of here together." Chuck told him, he put his hands on David's cheeks and held his face so he could look into David's eyes.

David looked into Chuck's brown eyes and held his gaze. He was speechless, he couldn't form the words he needed to. He couldn't believe that Chuck would throw away his perfect existance for him, his law career, and his loving parent's security. Rooming with Pierre, and having Pat there everyday. "are you serious Chuck?" He asked him. "You would do this for me? If I decide to move out to New York, you will in fact come with me?" David asked him, putting his hands over Chuck's.

"Yes."

"I love you."

"I love you too David, I always have, and I always will."

David sat in the school library, holding his acceptance letter, turning it over and over in his small hands. Could he throw this away? He sat the letter down on the table and watched it like it would spring up and run away from him. Someone sat down at his table, across from him quietly. It was the Weasel's friend Brian, he waited for David to look up.

"What do you want?" David asked him quietly.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're the most intimidating person anyone has probably ever met?" Brian asked him back, just as quiet.

"I've never heard that before, look at me Brian, I'm like, 5'2, I don't scare anyone." David scoffed.

"It's not your size David, it's what you don't say. You burn me with your eyes and you know it. You can see through someone, and you don't avert your gaze. It's your eyes, they're strong, I feel like I can't read you. I know this won't erase what happened to you that day, but I'm sorry." Brian said. Brian glanced at the letter on the table.

"Thank you Brian, that doesn't erase it, but I have to tell you this, and you can tell your friends or not. But I'm not afraid of you anymore. any of you. You can knock me down, and you can take what you feel is yours to take, but I don't care. Because it will only make me fill harder with hate, and the warmth of my hate keeps me strong. You seem different from them, maybe it's an act, maybe it's because you genuinely are, I don't know. But that day made me feel something I haven't felt in a long time, and I don't know whether to thank you for that or not." David told him "I know what you all see me as Brian, a whore, a useless piece of ass, whatever, I don't care what you all think. anymore" David leaned back in the chair in the library. His favourite one, it had the best cushion, the table in the back.

Brian didn't know what to say to David, his eyes blazed and his face stayed neutral, which scared him most of all. He stood up and grabbed his black book bag, and looked back at the table. David was still staring at him, a little smile on his face.

Chuck was still waiting for him to return home from school that day, he stayed an extra day that weekend. He smiled when David came through the door, right on time after school.

"Do you want some milk and cookies Sugar?" Chuck teased him, pulling David into his arms. David leaned in with his forehead on Chuck's chest, his breath on Chuck's tee shirt.

"Yes, where are my cookies?" David teased back, he murmured into Chuck's green tee shirt. Chuck just kissed him.

graceful_lily @ 2005-09-29T22:54:00

2005-09-30T02:07:25Z

Story Title: Looking Right Through
Chapter Title: Spring Thaw(Chapter Twenty)
Pairing: Chuck/David, Unrequited Pierre/David, Seb/Jeff, some Pat/Pierre
Rated: NC-17/R for implied sexual acts, violence, and language
Disclaimer: I don't own Simple Plan, if so, I wouldn't be stuck studying Art History

David stood alone in the dark room, developing the last photo project he would ever have. A portrait study of Steve. His dark hair catching the light, it would go unseen in the black and white photographs, that made David slightly sad. He liked being in the dark room alone, he could stay there with his visions, of Steve in black and white photos, the architecture up at Chuck's school. The way he saw the world, all coming out in 5x7 pieces he developed himself. He was going back up to Chuck's school that weekend, to take his picture. He was going to add him to the portrait study, people he knew and loved. He was just going to use Steve as his subject at first, but he thought it might go better with more. Julie in her pink angora sweater she was so proud of. Seb looking shy in his blue hoodie. Chuck strong and handsome in his green Role Model shirt.

"Sit still, just like that over your book." David said, changing the lens. Chuck looked up and smiled.

"Only if I get to take yours next." He said. David took his picture in the pose he liked best. Chuck looking over his book, not at the camera. Chuck took the camera from David, and lead him to the bed. David sat down, his back against the cream coloured wall. Chuck looked at David through the lens, capturing his small smile and dark eyes. David had reckless beauty, he made Chuck feel unsafe. His eyes burned Chuck, and he couldn't read him like he wanted to. He liked this at times, he had someone he couldn't control, and it was dangerous for him. Chuck liked to be in control, and with David, he felt he could do anything. David took the camera from Chuck and took their picture, cheeks pressed together, Chuck's big smile contrasted with his shy one. Chuck put the camera on his desk, forgotten about. David laid back on the navy blue comforter, his arms above his head, Chuck covered his body with his, their hips fit together. Chuck held David's wrists above his head with his large hand, slightly rough on the palms. David parted his legs so Chuck could lay in between them, pressed down on his hips, beautiful friction, sensations through his lower body, like spasms of colour. David's breaths coming out short and choppy, Chuck's hand left his wrists, slid down one of his pale arms, landing on his throat. They traveled down his collar bone on to his chest, then moved further down his stomach. Chuck let that hand rest on David's hip, rubbing him there. Chuck's mouth was on his neck, sucking the pale skin, leaving a bruise. David pulled off his hoodie, showing Chuck his green tee shirt, it was riding up, Chuck could see David's pale stomach. Chuck leaned down and kissed him there, softly, where he could see his skin. David pulled his tee shirt off, and looked up at Chuck with his hazel eyes, darkened by lust. Chuck took the camera off his desk, and took David's picture. It didn't seem tawdry, it seemed very real. David's dark gaze and pale skin, hair messed up, that's how Chuck saw David.

"Why did you take my picture then?" David asked him softly.

"That's how I see you, beautiful and reckless. Your eyes dark and your skin bruised. you just, I don't know, looked so amazing right then." Chuck said, he ran his hand through his fauxhawke. David sat up and put his hands on Chuck's cheeks, and pulled him down on top of him again. He kissed Chuck hard, teeth and tongues. Chuck's lips felt bruised and swollen, as was David's.

"Let me take your picture again." David whispered. "Don't move, just like that. Chuck, bewildered, lips bruised, half parted. Shirt unbuttoned, you could see his navy blue shirt underneath. His pants were hanging off his hips, baggy. David took Chuck's image just like that.

Chuck pulled David to him, his hand resting on the button of David's jeans. David's pulled down the zipper on his own pants, let them fall off his thin frame, at the bottom of Chuck's dorm bed. The metal box, and foam mattress. It groaned under their combined weight. They had fast, fervent sex in Chuck's dorm bed, David's pants and Chuck's groans bounced off the walls. David would curl into Chuck's chest when they finished, he liked to touch the little hairs there. Chuck would kiss the top of his head. David touched the bruises on his throat, blood blossoms, matching the ones Chuck would leave on his hips. David pulled on his tee shirt and boxers and crawled out of the cocoon like sheets. He looked out the window, the snow all melting, leaving soggy patches in the ground. Chuck came out behind him, shirtless with his boxer shorts low on his hips.

"Spring thaw." He said into David's hair. David turned around and kissed Chuck's chest.

"I hate being cold." David said, his mouth still on Chuck's chest. Chuck put his arms around him.

"I know you do baby, I'll keep you warm."

On Monday, David ate lunch alone, he didn't know where Steve was, or if he was even in school that day. It was the first warm day of the year, David could sit outside and smoke without bundling up. He ate the orange his mother always packed him and watched the kids sneak out to their cars, going off campus for fast food. He saw the Weasle, he avoided his eye. The Weasel watched him, he touched his mouth. David turned his face away, leaving the Weasel with a view of his dark hair. He poked a straw into his Capri Sun, wild cherry flavoured. He felt a splat of water on his face, and looked up at the grey sky. He pulled the collar of his green jacket up and grabbed his messanger bag. He gave the Weasel one last look, to show him he wasn't afraid any more.

graceful_lily @ 2005-08-21T02:24:00

2005-08-21T05:32:28Z

Story Title: Looking Right Through
Chapter Title: Marvelous Things(Chapter Nineteen)
Pairing: Chuck/David, Unrequited Pierre/David, Seb/Jeff, some Pat/Pierre
Rated: NC-17/R for implied sexual acts, violence, and language
Disclaimer: I don't own Simple Plan, if so, I wouldn't be stuck studying Art History

David watched as Chuck packed his car up to go back to college. They had shared such an amazing Yule break, with the journal, the bass guitar, and the re-connection of all their feelings. David wiped his tears on the sleeve of his ratty sweater, the edges slightly fraying.

"I wish you didn't have to go back." He said quietly into Chuck's shoulder. Chuck turned around and pulled him into a hug. David never felt as safe as he did with Chuck. He always felt like Chuck was something sturdy to hold onto. Chuck put his face in his hair, breathed in his favourite smell.

"I'll miss you too baby, but if you ever need me, to hear my voice, or even just know I'm here," he said kissing David's dark hair. "Call me, I want to know what you're doing or feeling." Chuck pulled out of the hug reluctantly. David stood back so Chuck could open the door with ease. He waved to Chuck as he pulled out of his driveway, his tears tasted bitter.

David laid on the plush wool carpet of Steve's house, under their Christmas tree. The light blinked red, green, blue, all the colours he could think of.

"I have something for you." Steve said pulling out a box with a green ribbon tied hastily on top. Dave could tell Steve wrapped it himself.

"I have something for you too, lets open them at the same time." David said handing Steve his gift. David unwrapped a new argyle sweater (so he couldn't steal Steve's anymore), and the newest Letter Kills cd.

"Thank you." David hugged Steve tightly as he held the soft wool to his cheek. Steve hugged him back, equally as happy. He looked over at his book about the Expressionist era in art, and a book of tabs to Death Cab for Cutie songs. They knew what each other wanted, at least materially. Books about art, and soft sweaters. David knew he could never erase the fear in Steve's mind that Julius would leave him. Steve knew he could never make David realize just how strong he really was, even with Chuck away at school. David looked at the lights playing on Steve's dark hair, and he thought about all the things they had been through together the last two years, and how Steve stuck by him. How they all had, Seb never judged him, Jeff never brought Luke up. Pierre may have been angry with him, but he took him home with no questions asked. David put his hand in Steve's and gave it a friendly squeeze.

January came quicker than David would have liked, the school hallways cold with drafts and grumpy students. David drove Seb to school that morning, both quiet with not enough sleep.

"How was your holiday?" Seb asked quietly.

"It was nice, very nice." David said thinking about the white bass guitar, the journal. "It was better than I thought it was going to be."

Seb smiled and pulled the cuffs of his new hoodie over his hands. "Jeff came home, it was really nice, I miss him." Seb said leaning back into the seat.

"I miss Chuck too, but it will be summer soon, and they get out earlier than we do anyways right?" David said.

"Yeah." They were quiet as they pulled into the school parking lot, to David's last semester of high school. Steve was standing by the door waiting for them, he gave Seb a welcome back hug. Seb looked surprised but happy, he had always thought Steve didn't care much for him. The three walked back into school like a small army, they stuck together as they navigated the hallways to their first hours. Safety in numbers is what played in their mind. David sat at the usual table he always chose for photo, his last photo class before college. The weasel's friend Brian was still in his photo class, and David still burned him with his eyes. His dark was longer, it fell on his forehead in fringe, giving him a younger look. He could have used this to his advantage, he knew Steve would have.

David stood under the hot water, letting his day wash off him, he squeezed shampoo in his small hand, the shampoo Chuck told him was addictive. The smell of his hair, without the cigarette smoke. He dried himself off, picked out a warm sweater and pajama pants, walked down the stairs, quiet as a cat. He watched the last days of the Christmas light flicker in the dark, playing off the dim walls. His mother was away on business, the room felt peaceful to him for some reason. He forgot about the weasel, about how his stomach ached when he thought of Chuck. About how hard it had been for him, bad choices, stumbles, the wrong words. Christmas lights, hot showers, things that can save you. He pulled out the journal, put on The Honourary Title. He wrote to Chuck about how at peace he felt, his small, neat handwriting, the blue ink on cream pages. He wanted Chuck to this side of him, this happy, calm side. He thought Chuck deserved this much after what they had been through.

David pulled Julie's car with ease into a parking spot, the one right outside Chuck's dorm building. David rarely ever drove, he hated to drive through snow long distances, but Chuck was worth it. David's messenger bag hit his hip, pulled on his gray wool peacoat. He wrapped his scarf around his neck, walked up the stairs, quiet as a cat. Chuck was waiting for him, smile on his face. He gave Chuck the journal, which he accepted, the smile still on his face. Chuck kissed the corner of his mouth, he always did that, it was their thing. David loved how they had their things, he felt like they had this little world that consisted of no one but themselves.

"I'm very excited to read this." Chuck said in his ear. "I've never really read your private thoughts."

"I was so proud of it, it's something that I want you to see Chuck." David said, he put his hands in Chuck's hoodie pocket.

They sat on Chuck's bed, cross legged, facing each other. David looked into Chuck's brown eyes, trying to read Chuck like Chuck could read him. Chuck's hands traced over his skin, over his cheekbone. David wondered if Chuck saw him as beautiful, he never saw himself as beautiful. Chuck's hands ran through his dark hair, pushing it off his forehead. David's sweater over his small hands, red wool that held his scent.Chuck kissed him softly on his lips, held his face in his hands. It was soft, almost chaste at first, then Chuck lapped at his lower lip, prodding him to open his mouth. Chuck's tongue in his mouth, messaging him. Chuck leaned back onto the bed, and pulled David on top of him, his mouth on his throat. David straddled Chuck, sitting up on his lower stomach, Chuck pulled off the sweater, letting it fall to the side of the small dorm bed. Chuck's hands were under his tee shirt, over his skin. He smelled like smoke, shampoo, and something cinnamony, almost like fire. David knew Chuck was the only man who really got close to him, he burned the rest of them. David pulled his tee shirt off, his skin exposed. He unbuttoned Chuck's shirt, button by button, slowly. Chuck's sliver ring on his finger, it caught the light and Chuck's eye. There was nothing Chuck liked seeing more than his mark on David, metal and marks, he was taming David slowly. David unbuttoned Chuck's Dickies, he pulled them down, his fingers nimble. His mouth on Chuck's, letting Chuck take the dominate role. David moved down Chuck's body, taking him in his mouth. Chuck leaned back into his pillow, a moan escaping his lips. Chuck came, and David laid his head on Chuck's chest, Chuck stroked his dark hair. His eyes felt heavy as Chuck kissed the top of his head.

David had on Chuck's green Role Model shirt, wearing it with his navy plaid boxer shorts. He sat on Chuck's bed as he watched Chuck get ready for his Freshman English class. He liked how Chuck organzed everything, he was always in control. David thought that was one of the things that attracted him to Chuck, the fact Chuck always knew what to do, and David felt Chuck could save him if anything went wrong.

"You can stay in bed baby, I'll be back in an hour." Chuck told him, pulling on his coat and hat. He leaned down and kissed David's cheek. David snuggled in Chuck's blankets and sheets, when he heard the door open, he peeked out and saw Pat come in with his big portfolio.

"Hey Pat, what are you doing here?" David asked him, sitting up again.

"I'm waiting for Pie, we're supposed to go see this Star Wars thing, it's a tripe feature of the original movies at the student center." Pat said. "How are you, I haven't seen you in ages." Pat hugged him.

"I'm ok, the same stuff you know." David told him. Pat seemed different to him for some reason. Pierre came in, and he stiffened when he saw David there. They hadn't talked since that night outside the dorm, David didn't know what to say to Pierre sometimes, he felt bad about what had happened between them.

"Hi." David said reluctantly.

"Hi Davie." Pierre said. Pierre looked at Pat, an odd look passed on his face. David could see they were still hiding what had they had. He felt sorry for Pat, who obviously liked Pierre. When they were leaving, he could see Pat grab for Pierre's hand. Pierre gave it to him, but seemed reluctant to do so. David pretended he didn't see it. Chuck came home a few minutes later, David wanted to tell him what he saw, but he didn't think it was his place. Chuck put his cold hands on David's warm shoulders and laughed when he jumped. Chuck pulled off his coat and shoes and crawled into bed with David, his arms around David's thin waist, his face in David's neck. They slept like that, they slept until dinner. They ordered chinese food and had it delivered, they ate it in bed. They never left Chuck's bed all weekend.

"I never want to leave." David told him, playing with Chuck's brown spikes.

"Soon baby, you'll be up here and we'll be together." Chuck kissed his pale hand.

"Not soon enough."

I've been terrible, I've been working on this story since August 21st, and I still feel it's not up to standards. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it.

graceful_lily @ 2005-08-09T23:22:00

2005-08-10T03:01:44Z

Story Title: Looking Right Through
Chapter Title: Its a Wonderful Life(Chapter Eighteen)
Pairing: Chuck/David, Unrequited Pierre/David, Seb/Jeff, some Pat/Pierre
Rated: NC-17/R for implied sexual acts, violence, and language
Disclaimer: I don't own Simple Plan, if so, I wouldn't be stuck studying Art History

David, his sister Julie, and his mother all sat in a row, the day after Thanksgiving, watching "Its a Wonderful Life." Julie got up to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of red Kool-Aid.

"I spiked ours Davie, its going to be a long night." She whispered in her brother's ear. David couldn't help but agree.

It wasn't that David didn't love Yule time, he did, but it made his mother so crazy. Ever since his dad left, she was obsessed with the perfect Christmas. One year, they had a traditional English Christmas, complete with midnight mass, and a roasted goose. The year before that, they had a huge Christmas party, and their whole family came. David would dread this, he knew now that fall was over, it was time for them to start planning.

"I was thinking kids, maybe we should put the tree up tomorrow, lets get a head start on Christmas this year." His mother said with her eyes shining with tears. David and Julie just looked at each with the look only siblings could give.

David started to drive himself and Seb to school once the weather got colder, the snow started and he hated to get his shoes wet. Seb would just babble on and on about Jeff, and how wonderful things were going. David would listen like a good friend and let his mind try to stay on the road when all he wanted to do was jump out of the car. David loved Sebby dearly, but he was driving him mad lately. All his Jeff talk, he felt suffocated. Maybe he felt jealous, he barely had time to talk to Chuck, or vice versa. David sometimes wondered if they were moving in separate directions, if this would be the way it would always be. He wondered if he was being like Luke right now, he was just scared that Chuck was getting way too close. He wanted to talk to Steve about it, and see what he thought.

David was in the dark room that day at school, developing pictures that he took last time he was up at the college visiting Chuck. He stoically put negative in the projector and let the image flash on his photo paper. He heard the door open and someone came in. It was that friend of the weasels', Brian. David looked up and met his dark eye, he still wanted to win the staring contest. Brian broke away first and went to the far projector on the other side of the room. Brian waited behind him to use the chemicals, David could hear his nervous breathing.

"I'm sorry for what my friends did to you." He said quietly.

David turned around to face him and studied his face for a minute. He wondered if he heard him right.

"Its ok, its over now." David said. He wanted to ask Brian why the weasel liked to pick on him, or why he did that, but he couldn't. He just left his pictures to rinse in the water and left the darkroom as fast as he could.

Chuck called him afterschool, sorrow touched his voice a little. He felt that David was being distant, and he tried to grab what he could. David felt awful for making Chuck wonder, but at the same time, he liked having the power that Chuck usually had. David wondered what kind of a person he was sometimes, if he was a good person, or someone who enjoyed jerking people around. He loved Chuck for so long, now that he had him, was it the chase he liked? They were so happy just weeks before, maybe having Chuck so far away, and having to compete with finals and school work irked him. Maybe it was knowing that they would be together up at school, that they could live together if they wanted, that scared him. David buried his face in his pale hands and leaned back on to his pillows, thought about how Chuck deserved someone better than him. David wondered if he could ever make anyone happy.

"Maybe you're just bored, I think Julius is getting bored too." Steve told him glumly over their tarot cards.

Steve kept trying to call Julius all day, and he wouldn't pick up his phone. Steve always worried that Julius wanted someone else, he played over the suspensions in his mind all the time. He drove himself half crazy, David couldn't blame him one bit. He used to wonder that too, if Chuck wanted someone else.

"I'm not bored with Chuck, I'm just worried that the fact we have no time for eachother is how its always going to be." David told him. "Maybe I like that fact that he's trying to get to me now, not like the way it was before." David said. He thought about it for a minute. "Maybe I'm a selfish fucking bitch, he's always chased after me, and I can't live without that." David said quietly.

Steve touched his shoulder empathetically, he knew how it was when you've been worshipped for so long, and then you start reciprocating the feeling. David just felt like a terrible person, he hated what he was doing to Chuck, he didn't understand why he was doing this to him. He knew he loved Chuck, he thought maybe he needed to conflict to thrive on.

David was out in his front yard, helping his mother put up Christmas lights one day after school. He was always afraid she would hurt herself and he looked up at her worriedly.

"Need some help Mrs. Desrosiers?" He heard a familiar voice ask behind him.

David turned around to see Chuck, with his duffel bag over his shoulder and grin on his face. David waited until his mother climbed down the ladder and ran and jumped into his arms. All the doubt he had felt melted away once he heard his voice and saw his face. Chuck lifted him up and spun him around before dropping him playfully in the snow, his shoes and jeans getting wet. Chuck pulled him up on his feet, hugging him as tightly as he could manage.

"I don't mean to interrupt you darling, but we should finish putting these lights up by the time it gets dark." Mrs. Desrosiers said timidly.

Chuck took the lights from her and climbed up the ladder no problem while Mrs. Desrosiers and David held it steady. Seeing Chuck up there, helping his mother made David no less than proud. He questioned why he ever had a doubt in Chuck, he knew they were perfect together. David's mother gave them hot cocoa when they came in, Chuck sat on the couch with David, their shoulders touching. David's mother went upstairs to look through her Christmas cook book, leaving them alone. Chuck pulled the woolen afghan off the other couch and wrapped it around their bodies. he kissed David's left temple, moving down to his pale cheek. He kissed his lips chastely, and held his small frame to his.

"I missed you so much, up at school, wondering how you were." Chuck whispered in his ear. "I have something very special for you, plus, I have about fifty entries in our journal all for you." Chuck's breath was warm on his face, it felt comforting. David closed his hazel eyes and drifted towards a place that he wanted to stay in forever.

Chuck passed him their journal, and David read. Read every worry, every A Chuck earned, a the C- that his teacher unfairly gave him. David read how Chuck missed him, how he would stay up wondering what he was doing. He read over Chuck's feelings that Pierre was hiding something from him, that Pat was acting strange as well. David felt like he was looking into Chuck's mind, something very private and secret.

"Its your turn Davie, you can keep the journal for a while, I want to read about you." CHuck said in his ear.

David put the journal on the table and turned to face Chuck, kissed him full on the lips. Kissing was always something David rushed through, it was never as satisfying as what came afterwards. After reading Chuck's journal, he wanted to kiss Chuck as if they had all the time in the world. Chuck's mouth was hot and it tasted like coffee, mint, and something that was very Chuck. He lips were slightly chapped, rougher than David's. David could feel the grease of his own chapstick slip over Chuck's lips, making it easier to move around them. Chuck's tongue in his mouth, massaging his own, going over his palette, his teeth.David pushed his tongue back in Chuck's mouth, hearing Chuck let out a little groan. Chuck's hands were on his waist, holding him steady, tightly. His hands were warm and David could feel them through his sweater, the red wool with blue and yellow argyle, an early Christmas present from his father. Chuck slipped his hands under David's shirt, rubbing his soft skin, his skinny ribs. Chuck laid back into the soft white couch and pulled David down on top of him. David put his mouth on Chuck's clavicle, smooth and exposed from his polo shirt. Chuck smelled clean and musky, like aftershave and laundry soap. David got too used to that scent. Chuck touched his hair, ran his finger through it. It was brown again, and the fauxhawke was getting higher and higher.

"You changed your shampoo." Chuck mumured in his hair. "You smell like flowers, sweet." Chuck buried his face in David's neck, he kissed the pale skin there. David felt very exposed and vulnerable for some reason. He laid in Chuck's arms, on his soft white couch.

David spent his Yule break working on pies, and trees. On a report about the affects of World War One. Chuck spent everyday over there, helping his study, or baking with David's mother. Julie would watch them with cool detachment over menthol cigarettes, she didn't know how she felt seeing Chuck share their mother.

"Does mom know about you guys?" She whispered to David while Chuck helped their mother make a gingerbread house.

"Yeah, I told her ages ago." David said rubbing her milk and honey lotion over his dry elbows.

Julie squeezed her brother's shoulder through his thin tee shirt and smiled. As much as she hated to share her mom, she did want her brother to have a normal, functioning relationship. David was happier than he was last year, and this would be his last year at home with her. Julie wanted to appear hard, just like her brother, they were more alike than they wanted to admit, but seeing her brother let go of his ghosts made her happier than she would ever tell anyone.

Chuck and David stood outside under the cold December sky, looking at the Christmas lights.

"They're so pretty." David said smiling.

"They're not as pretty as that." Chuck said pointing up. The midnight blue sky was twinkling, the stars looked like bits of crystal.

"Wow, I've never noticed that before." David said taking Chuck's hand. He was always too busy doing homework, moping around, or trying to grow up too fast to ever really stop and look at the stars. Chuck held his hand tighter and pulled David into his arms. Chuck pulled a small box out of his coat pocket, it was wrapped in silver and tied with a blue bow.

"Open this David, I couldn't wait anymore." Chuck said smiling slightly. David pulled the ribbon off and let it fall to the snow. There was a little green guitar pick inside.

"Well, that is really interesting gift." David said taking it out and looking it over.

"Thats just a part of it." Chuck said pulling back towards the house. Chuck covered his eyes and opened the front door. Under the tree was a pure white bass guitar. David gasped and his eyes widened.

"This is for me?" He asked.

"I know Luke sold your bass back in Toronto, and I wanted to get you one for your birthday, but I couldn't afford it with all my school stuff," Chuck told him. "I knew that it was the one thing you were upset about when you saw he sold most of your things." Chuck shrugged.

"You're too good to me Chuck, I don't know what to say." David said, hugging Chuck and burring his face in Chuck's shirt.

"I just love you Davie."

"I just love you too."

graceful_lily @ 2005-07-13T23:22:00

2005-07-14T02:29:24Z

Story Title: Looking Right Through
Chapter Title: You have my attention(Chapter Seveteen)
Pairing: Chuck/David, Unrequited Pierre/David, Seb/Jeff, some Pat/Pierre
Rated: NC-17/R for implied sexual acts, violence, and language
Disclaimer: I don't own Simple Plan, if so, I wouldn't be stuck studying Art History

Salvation can come in many different forms, it can be a raft on the ocean, or maybe a distress signal in the jungle somewhere. For David it was the letter from the University of Toronto. The one that said "Dear Mr. David Desrosiers, you've been accepted to attend the University of Toronto this fall." David re-read the letter over and over, letting it crease the soft white paper. His mother hugged him tightly, they jumped up and down. Julie took her little brother out for a butterscotch sundae, her treat. David nervously dialed Chuck's dorm number, his fingers tracing over the familiar numbers he knew by heart. Chuck's voice warming his ears, seeping into his brain, going through his veins.

"Thats great baby, I knew you could do it." He said.

David could almost see Chuck's twinkling brown eyes crinkling as he said it. David smiled his little half comma smile and told Chuck how he thought of him as he applied, because they could be near each other. David imaged his college life with Chuck. Them walking under the green trees of the campus, and eating lunch on park benches. Drinking tea in coffee shops off campus because coffee gave David a stomach ache, and he knew Chuck loved expresso. Chuck would make all their plans because thats what he did best. Free concerts on campus, studying together. David's stomach hurt from wanting, he ached for this in the deepest part of his mind. He would never admit it, he always gave that expression that he hated school, that he didn't care where he ended up when it was over.

"Fuck this." He would say to Steve as they sat outside on the wall smoking their black cigarettes and sneering at the kids going by, huddled from the early December cold. David would slip his headphones on during photo class, there was no more Chuck in there to keep him company anymore. "I just want to wake up." He would sing along silently in his head to Mae. He was on a Mae kick, Seb burned the CD for him after school one day, and thats all he was listening to these days. David liked to go in spurts of things. He would eat nothing but whatever food he decided was his favourite was that week (Captain Crunch with the berries right now). He watched nothing but whatever movie he was obsessed with at the time (Harold and Maude, Steve's favourite as well). So as of right now, it was Mae that was on his playlist. He put his hands on the black bag and carefully took his film out of the can and on to the reel, feeling for bumps. He liked it when Patrick was the photo teacher's student assistant and he would check for David, his pictures came out the best that year. David wanted to go up and visit Chuck at school that weekend to take pictures, he was bored with the little scenery around them lately. The Weasel's friend Brian was in his class, he sat on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by loud kids who liked to waste the chemicals to be asses to their over worked photo teacher. Brian looked up and caught David's eye, he looked nervous. David's eyes burned, he wouldn't break the stare first, he couldn't show Brian he was nervous too. Brian looked away first, suddenly finding their grading sheet interesting. David smirked to himself, he won the last two rounds.

Steve drove them up to school, he was a scary driver, David always feared for his life with Steve. They pulled up in front of Chuck's dorm room, looking up the identical oatmeal coloured curtains that saved each room from the prying eyes of the people below. Steve sat on the one of the concrete benches on front of the dorm and lit his black cigarette. "Hey you want to come to a party?" Some guy asked him smiling a little too wide. "Its 10 am, is it a breakfast party?" Steve sneered. The guy looked away like he wasn't the one who said it and kept walking. David adjusted his messenger bag on his thin shoulders and walked up the stairs to Chuck's small dorm room. He knocked softly on the door and pressed his ear against it. He heard a moan, and someone say "shit." David's heart beat in his throat until Pierre answered the door reluctantly. David suppressed a smile and was joined by Steve. David peeked around Pierre, he wanted to see who was inside the dorm. He saw Pat zipping up his jeans, red faced. David and Steve pushed past Pierre laughing.

"Why hello Pat, I can see you're doing well." David said smiling. Pat blushed three shades deeper than he all ready was. Pat ran out of there like a bat out of Hell, leaving Pierre all alone, teased by David and Steve.

"I had no idea that you were so, erm, close with Pat." David said. Pierre just looked away. "We're both lonely." He said simply. Pierre picked up his hoodie, book bag, and grabbed a snack bar before heading out the door. Steve sat on Pierre's bed reluctantly, smoothing the comforter back up.

"Don't really want to touch the sheets." Steve laughed. He opened up the window widely and lit one of his cigarettes, half sitting in the window, half out. "I bet you can't smoke in here." He told David matter of factly. David shrugged and started to search for some normal food in the cramped room.

"They have like, ten boxes of SpongeBob mac and cheese." He told Steve throwing boxes aside carelessly. He found a half smushed box of strawberry nutri-grain bars and picked one out. He waited patiently for Chuck, like child wanting a reward for being good. Chuck strode in, a little concerned his door was unlocked and softened when he saw David sitting on his bed.

"This is a pleasant surprise." He said kissing David's hair. David turned his head so he got Chuck full on the lips, his lips were chapped slightly. David liked the rougher quality of them. He put his skinny arms around Chuck's neck, Chuck's hands on his waist. Steve politely left the room, mumbled something about the student art gallery. Chuck laid him down on the navy comforter, kissing his lips softly, his tongue pushed in. His hands rubbed David's hip bones, he could feel them through his jeans.

"I missed you this week, I couldn't wait to see you, I thought I would have had to wait a whole other week." Chuck said between kisses. "Me too, its been a bad week Chuck, I just wanted to be near you." David panted back. Chuck pulled David's sweater off first, letting it fall to the side of the bed. His hands went for David's belt next, pulling at it. It had pyramid spikes lining it, Chuck could barely get it out of the belt loops. The jeans slid off David's hips easily, falling away to the floor. They kissed fervently, like they hadn't seen each other in months, pulling at each other's skin with their hands. Chuck put his head in David's lap, taking him in slowly. David could feel Chuck's warm mouth on his skin, his pink tongue over the tip. He closed his eyes, seeing nothing, just wanting to feel Chuck on his body. David panted, reached for Chuck's spiky brown hair. Chuck's head bobbing before he came up and kissed David. David could taste himself in Chuck's kiss, it felt more intimate than the act Chuck just performed on him. Chuck reached into the stand next his bed, he pulled out a tube of something. David watched Chuck rub it on himself, he was trying his hardest to be patient. Chuck put his finger inside of him first, preparing him for what was to come. Chuck pushed into David gently, he was gentle each time they did this, he was always afraid he was going to break David. He let David set the pace, slow and steady at first, they had all the time in the world. They felt time had stopped for them, to have their moment together. As the pressure built, the pace picked up. Chuck ran his hands over David's back, down to his hips again. He could David's shoulder blade perfectly, as if all the flesh had worn away. He pushed this out of his mind and he could feel a blind desire build in his lower regions. It matched the burning in David's stomach as Chuck put his large hand between David's legs. Chuck always let David come first, making sure he was taken care of before he came with a grunt. They laid there together, Chuck's warm hands caressing his bony back. David laid his head on Chuck's chest, he rubbed the little hairs there.

"I think you've lost some weight." Chuck said to him quietly. "I have, I just keep losing it, I don't whats wrong with me lately." David replied. David wrapped the sheet tighter around his small framed and reached for his boxers. They dressed in silence, neither were big talkers after sex, they thought it was a time to be quiet. Chuck made him dinner, a box of SpongeBob macaroni and cheese, a cupcake for dessert.

"What did I do to deserve such a gourmet dinner." David teased kissing Chuck's cheek. Chuck took his palm and brought it up to his lips.
"You were just your beautiful self." He said. Steve came home at that moment, dragging Pat in with him.

"Look who I ran into at the art gallery?" He said laughing. Pat still look slightly embarrassed from their afternoon encounter. Maybe he just always looked like that around Steve, his cheeks were always red. Chuck smiled and pulled David into his lap, balancing him on his knee. Pierre came in from class, absent mindedly chewing a stick of gum that smelled fruity. His dark eyes paused on them each, weighing in on what was going on. He wouldn't look at Pat. Chuck just looked at David questioningly.

"What is going on here?" He asked them slowly. "Why does everyone look embarrassed?" No one wanted to answer him. David and Steve just looked at each and laughed to themselves.

"Wow, its a full house in here, maybe I should head over to the library." Pierre said nervously. David's mind started working, he wondered how often this little encounters happened between Pat and Pierre, and why did Pierre keep running off like that? He wanted nothing more than to ask Pierre.

"You know what, I want to have a cigarette, why don't I sit outside with you." He said grabbed Pierre. They walked down the stairs silently, neither would look at each other. Pierre shifted from foot to foot as David lit his cigarette.

"Whats up with you and Pat?" David asked point blank. Pierre shrugged, but David kept his gaze on him. Pierre wasn't getting off the hook that easily.

"I told you Davie, I just get lonely, so does Pat." Pierre said.

"Then why hide it? What are you afraid of?" David asked him blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Pat is a nice guy, he's smart and friendly. So incredibly loyal, why are you being so secretive." Pierre looked away again.

"Pat is just not who I pictured myself with." Pierre said quietly. "I just thought I would end up with someone else."

David just looked at Pierre incredulously. "I'm confused here, is Pat not good enough or something?" David demanded.

"He's not you." Pierre said. "I thought it would be over with Chuck by now, you would have gotten bored with him, and then I had a chance." He said. "But if I'm with Pat, that makes it real, and I've moved on, and I'll never have a chance with you."

David looked at his red converses, they suddenly seemed so interesting. "Oh, I wasn't expecting that." David said. "Why does everyone think I'll just leave Chuck like this." He said snapping his fingers. "I love Chuck, its not like it was with Luke, who got bored with me by the way, not the other way around." David said. "Pierre, you are a great man, handsome and funny, a talented musician." David began. "But, I love Chuck, he's the best thing that has ever happened to me. He's inspired me to things I never thought I could." David said. "I hate having this conversation with you, and I feel like maybe its my fault, I keep leading you on, or maybe I'm giving off the wrong signals." David said twisting the button on his coat. "I'm sorry that we're not working out, but I'm with Chuck, and if you can't support me, than maybe we shouldn't be friends anymore." David said standing up. He left Pierre in stunned silence and went back up the stairs, the metal key warming in his hands.

David laid in that uncomfortable metal bed that night, wide awake at 2 am. He looked over at Chuck, who sleeping peacefully. He wondered if Chuck thought like Pierre, if after a while, he would just get up and leave him. David saw Steve sleeping in Pierre's bed, he never came back that night. He climbed out of bed and poked at Steve.

"What?" Steve mumbled sleepily. He sat up and put on his glasses, the ones that were just plastic. Steve liked the way he looked in glasses.

"I need to ask you something." David said, climbing in next to Steve. Steve pulled the covers open for David. "Did you think I was going to get bored with Chuck easily?"

Steve looked at David's small features in the dark, dappled by light from the blinds. "No, of course not. You gave all you could to Luke, I thought it would be the same with Chuck." Steve said.

"I didn't though, when I was dating Luke, I slept with Chuck, twice. I also slept with Pierre once." David said. "I don't know whats wrong with me."

"You didn't love Luke like you love Chuck, don't beat yourself up over, why is this bothering you all of a sudden?"

"Pierre just said something that got me thinking about it." David mumbled. He climbed back out of bed and went back to Chuck. Steve looked over at him, his dark eyes questioning. David just curled up against Chuck's warm back and tried to sleep.