He can't sleep.
All he can think about is the sickly swirl of the pills in his stomach, and the way the tube had been shoved down his throat in the hospital, and the sounds of Spencer's anguished voice from faraway, despite his best friend being right next to him.
But that's over now. For now. After all, it's going to happen again, and everybody knows it. He's the only one in the world with the power to stop it, but who is he to deny himself routine? He'll OD, go to hospital, and come out, just for it all to happen again.
Just as he's vaguely wondering when it will next happen, there's a soft knock on his bedroom door. He tenses. He assumes it's Spencer, but then again, Spencer has never bothered him when he's recovering before. He licks his lips, and calls, in a hoarse voice, "Come in".
The door opens immediately, and to Ryan's surprise it isn't Spencer who walks in. It's Brendon.
Ryan sits up, instantly, but then winces as he gets a horrible head rush. He closes his eyes, tightly, waiting for the nausea to pass. It eventually does, and once it has done he opens his eyes again. Brendon's much closer now. Much, much closer. He's now sitting on the bed with Ryan, smiling in a sad sort of way, and he's shut the door behind him.
Ryan's trapped.
He tries not to think about that, though, for fear of an anxiety attack.
"So," Brendon begins, softly, but then pauses. He licks his lips - those lips, those lips that Ryan is trying his hardest not to stare at - and sighs, looking directly into Ryan's eyes. "You did it again?"
He doesn't need to ask what he means. The pills, sliding so easily down his throat. Instead of answering verbally, he nods, looking down at his bedclothes. His cheeks are burning, from shame, but suddenly Brendon's fingers are on them, stroking them. He fights the urge to pull back, because somebody is actually touching him and he usually hates that, but for some reason, he doesn't.
"Don't just nod," Brendon whispers, and Ryan can't help but meet his eye. Brendon's gaze is burning and intense, but innocent, too. "Talk to me. Please."
Ryan shakes his head, and hates himself as he sees the disappointment rich in Brendon's dark eyes. He doesn't want to talk, not with his stupid stutter, because when he tries to say what he's feeling it just comes out all wrong. Brendon sighs, shifting closer on the bed, one of his hands still stroking Ryan's left cheek.
"Please," he whispers, leaning impossibly closer, the seductive whine he's perfected heavy in his voice. "Ryan, I just want you to be happy."
Ryan stares at him, unable to breathe properly. Why is this happening? Why has this beautiful, foolish, dangerous boy entered his life and his home, and why does he insist on always being so close to Ryan? He's not like it with Spencer - not that Spencer would let him be - but he's never even tried. He acts like he knows Ryan, when really they're almost strangers.
But Ryan can't bring himself to push the young man away.
He's falling. Shit, it's pathetic, and it's sudden, and it's pointless, but it's real. Every time Brendon so much as glances his way, he can feel his insides spark to life. Every time Brendon comes home drunk or drugged up, his heart twinges with pain. Every time Brendon and Jon share a knowing glance, or a loving kiss, or disappear into their bedroom, he just wants to die.
It's dramatic, he knows that. He knows that Brendon will probably never feel the same way about him. Why would he? He has Jon, who he's evidently head over heels in love with anyway, and he could probably have anybody he picked. Ryan has no appeal; he has nothing special about him, and God, he has so many flaws.
He realises, then, that he's just been staring at Brendon, mutely, ignoring his plea to speak. Brendon lets go of his cheek, and sighs, heavily. The boy gets to his feet, and reaches across to run his fingers through Ryan's hair. Ryan closes his eyes at the touch, instinctively.
"I'll make you happy someday, I promise," Brendon murmurs, and suddenly his lips are brushing over Ryan's, and Ryan is flinching, and Brendon leaves without another word.
Ryan stares after him and somehow manages to murmur, "T-thank you."
The door reopens, revealing Brendon. A smile has brightened his whole face, and he winks. "Caught you," he teases, and then leaves again, leaving Ryan flushed and embarrassed and - ridiculously - hard.
