{✔️} ryden oneshots || lovely 🌹

Boarding school ^part 3^

Fiero was in his bed. Brendon rolled him off without barely a nod to kindness, not even caring when Fiero's head smacked the floor. Brendon lay down fully clothed, dry-eyed and over-heated. He must have slept because he opened his eyes once and Bert was stumbling around - another and Bert was curled up in his own bed with Fiero up against his back - a third and daylight broke through the grimy curtains. Brendon felt itchy, clogged-up, like he was coming down with the flu and had pulled a study all-nighter, all at the same time. Another school day. But not - not, because Brendon's worst secret had been revealed: to himself, and to the rest of the world.

He clattered around the room as he got ready for school. Usually he was more considerate of Bert's sore head - he had taken to visiting Fiero and Gee's room till all hours out of respect to Brendon's sleeping time, doing god knows what. This morning, Brendon didn't care if Bert suffered an aneurysm and died.

At one point Bert cracked open a groggy eye and mumbled, "Hey, did I do something stupid last night?" But he fell back asleep before Brendon could calmly explain that he'd ruined Brendon's life.

If only he'd known - well. He had known that he dreamed about Ryan a lot, and that the dreams left him sticky and gross when he woke up. He also knew that certain things happened when Ryan touched him too much in one day, or if he stared too much at Ryan's throat or hands or mouth, or if he lay in bed thinking of their conversations as he drifted to sleep. But the school nurse had said this sort of thing was normal and could be completely unconnected to whatever caused it. Brendon had just assumed - he'd hoped -

It got worse.

At lunchtime, Brendon was late and ended up sitting with Andy and Bob from his class. They hadn't been at the party and they spent the hour arguing over who deserved the title 'Greatest Drummer in History'. Brendon had nothing to contribute to that, so he ate in silence.

His usual people were one table over. Brendon was too afraid of seeing Spencer's face to try and make contact with them. It didn't occur to him to think it strange that they made no effort either, until dinner time rolled round and he reluctantly joined the table with his tray. He expected some good-natured ribaldry from Gabe, eye-rolling from Spencer and giggles from the girls - except Vicky, who'd probably just stare. He didn't bother trying to hope for anything other than distaste from Ryan, at least for a while.

He didn't expect silence.

"Hey," he said, faced with a row of backs that weren't shuffling to accommodate him and a row of blank faces beyond.

"Hello, Brendon," said Greta. She sounded like she had a cold.

"I, uh, I didn't see you at music club," he said to her.

"Yeah, I had detention," she said,

"Seriously?" Brendon's eyes popped. Greta was the ultimate good girl - half the teachers wanted to have her babies. She'd never so much as got extra homework before. "Why?"

"Like you don't know," said Ryan. His voice was always flat, but before Brendon had been able to pick out minute cadences and upswings in it. Now it was just ... dead.

"I wouldn't ask if I did," Brendon pointed out, to Ryan's plate.

"We all have detention, mousie," said Gabe. "Of course, it isn't quite the tragedy for me that it is for every -"

"Jesus," snarled Ryan. He threw down his fork. "Shut the fuck up."

"Is it that time of the month already?"

Ryan made an incoherent noise and threw himself across the table. Only Spencer's quick thinking saved Ryan's plate, but the water pitcher was a lost cause. It splashed everyone, including Brendon, who blinked. Gabe edged away from the puddle that was streaming across the wood.