Rating: R overall (language and sexuality). R for chapter (cussing)
Pairing(s): Ryan/Brendon, Ryan/OFC
Summary: Brendon Urie is a sinner.
Warning: Themes of religion. Close-minded people [Brendon's parents].
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I play with them in my sick mind.
Author Notes: My mother would be proud. I actually remembered my bible readings. But then she'd cry if she knew what for. :P Thanks to Susan for being my beta. I made alot of mistakes. xD My english teachers would be in anguish.
It was only a note. Wide-ruled, sloppily folded. Your typical note passing in high school. Everybody did it (mostly girls). But Ryan always passed me notes in class, telling me of his latest endeavors. Whose skirt he managed to get over some girl's head. He liked to gloat and strut, but really, Ryan Ross was shy. I'd indulge him, asking him personal questions, and eventually, he'd become too embarrassed to answer. Unfortunately, we didn't have much time for me to drill him 20/20 questions. Class was due to start soon.
So, who topped?
She did, durr. I'm a lazy fuck. I like to watch 'em. It's hawt. :P
Pre-martial sex is a sin. tsk tsk.
I let him call me that all the time. It was true. I was. I had never had sex before. Part of it was my religion, both my parents drilled in me to wait until marriage. Wait until I was through with college and had a career, to meet a nice Mormon girl and settle down and have 5.2 kids with her.
Only problem was, there weren't a lot of Mormon girls. Much less a virgin girl. My mother and father proudly told me they were virgins on their wedding night (too much information) and that I should be one too.
"It's the ultimate gift you can give to the woman you love, the woman you're going to share your life with, the woman who will become the mother of your children, Brendon," my mother cooed, straightening my tie as we got ready for church. "Sex is should be a sacred act of consummating a marriage approved in the eyes of God. It's disgusting to see so many teenagers have it so loosely. It loses its meaning. God only intended mankind to share pleasure with their husband or wife. Your body is a temple, remember that."
I nodded numbly, knowing it was futile to argue. I saw her reasoning; it was everything they had already taught us in church. Everything I already knew. It made sense, but at the same time, it made absolute no sense. Sex should be a lot of things, but that didn't mean it was.
It was all too fucked up. Society and this entire world. Just plain fucked up. And my parents were trying to conform it, and it was pointless and they were wasting their time with anti-homosexuality and anti-pre-martial protests. They weren't going to change that. My parents focused on what was wrong with the world such as homosexuality to realize the other people in need, innocent and helpless people. Abused and neglected children. The homeless. Those were the people we should've been focusing on, not the people who had found love, who were banished and banned for loving someone of the same sex. Religion was suppose to be accepting and forgiving. Suppose to be.
Religion was hypocrisy.
I was losing my faith, and I wished I wasn't. But it was hard not to, when the bible contradicted with what I wanted and desired.
Ryan and I only had one class together. He had chosen to take electives his first two years of high school. Woodshop, theatre, and art classes to fill up his first years of high school. I had taken my harder classes, gotten them out of the way. But I had to save Health for last; I could never fit it in. My schedule was always packed with student council and teacher's assistant classes. My counselor just advised me to take it my senior year. I agreed, and with luck, I was put into the same class as Ryan Ross.
Today, ironically, was our Sex Ed class. The teacher announced this, and everybody went from mature high school students to immature twelve-year-olds, as if they had never heard of the word.
"Hey, I think Ross should be excused!" said a voice in the back.
"Or maybe have him teach the class!" People cheered in Ryan's favor.
"Ryan, one-on-one demonstrations?" someone asked him. Ryan just grinned, soaking it all up.
Our teacher, Mr. Durland, was no stranger to Ryan Ross' reputation. He just rolled his eyes, passing out the standard pamphlets, ignoring the crude remarks that flew throughout the room.
He went through the whole presentation. Male anatomy. Female anatomy. Menstrual cycle. Pregnancy. Condoms. The same presentation we've had throughout our whole high school career.
“So, what about guy-on-guy? How does that work out? What are your chances of STDs there?” His eyes were serious. The students around him began to look uncomfortable. Some smiled nervously, others stared in shock, but many just turned their heads in embarrassment.
Mr. Durland tensed up noticeably. Ryan quickly slid the note back to me. I looked at the back of his head in confusion. Was he seriously thinking he could get away with passing a note in front a teacher? I opened it.
Turn to Leviticus, chapter 18
“Well, erm,” Mr. Durland blushed. I found my hand had stopped writing and had started shaking. “I was getting to that...” He cleared his throat. Ryan waited patiently, hands folded neatly on the desk. “The chance of getting AIDS via sexual intercourse with another man is much greater than with a woman.”
He sent me another note. Twenty-two, what does it say? You’ve taken this test. Leviticus 18:20.
Interesting. So Ryan Ross did actually pay attention in bible class if he remembered that much. He wasn't always busy trying to get his hand up Christina's shirt to feel her preteen boobs. I still remember that.
I didn't even need to have the book on me to remember that line. I spent all night, re-reading it. Basking in the horror and terror of what those words meant. I passed it back to him, my hands still shaking with fear.
“Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.”
“Oh, so, it’s basically the same thing? You just need to wear a condom like you would with a girl?”
“Um, yes, basically, I suppose...”
But what if it wasn't intercourse? Just kissing and other things? The bible clearly states 'lie'. As in intercourse? So, it wasn't an abomination to think about it? Or kiss? The Bible had to have loopholes around this.
But why was I looking at all?
“Okay then," he said simply, reclining back in his chair, leaning back with his hands behind his head. There was a silence through out the classroom, and if every eye was on Ryan, he did not show that he cared.
The next time I saw Ryan Ross was when his family came over for dinner. I stood awkwardly to the side, suddenly fascinated with my converses when his family arrived. Our mothers hugged, his mother complimenting mine on her new hairdo. Our fathers shook hands, immediately talking about lawnmowers and work. Very domestic.
"Brendon! Don't be rude!" my mother hissed to me.
I walked up to him, smiling nervously. "Hey Ryan."
He smiled back, and I was reminded how handsome he was when he did that. I felt my stomach clench.
"Lets go upstairs, play video games," he quipped, casually reaching for my hand, pulling me up the stairs. I followed, wondering if our parents knew. If they suspected our ulterior motives.
Calm down, Urie, I told myself.
Besides, I still haven't given him an answer yet. I was going to say no. No.
He had other plans, without realizing it, he had closed and locked the door behind us, taking the institutive and kissing me, hard and searching. I sputtered once I realized he was kissing me while our parents were downstairs, talking about church and home decor.
"Ryan, what are you doing?" I asked, my voice oddly calm. I managed to push him off, putting distance between us.
"Kissing you," he said simply, leaning forward once more but I moved.
He narrowed his eyes. "Bren, stop fucking around."
"I never said yes!" I insisted, searching his face imploringly for any guilt. He didn't look guilty. "Do you want to rot in hell? This!" I threw up my hands for emphasis, "is a one way ticket to hell."
"Oh fuck, Urie, don't tell me you believe in that bullshit," he sneered, "it's a load of crap. In the classroom, you moaned. You like this. Just admit it so we can get to the good parts. You're being unnecessary."
He kissed me, his tongue gaining entrance in my mouth and I welcomed the intrusion, reaching for his forearms--instead of pushing him away--I pulled him closer, lost in the sensation of his mouth on mine. I shivered when I felt his hands reach up and tangle in my hair, his breathe heavy against my lips, tasting each other fully for the first time. It was better than what I remembered nearly ten years ago. I was at his complete mercy now, and he knew it. He knew it and I knew Ryan Ross better than anybody. He used everything to his advantage.
He pulled away, and I blinked my eyes open in confusion.
"I knew it; I knew you'd enjoy this. You're hard," he stated, not questioning. He knew.
I glared. "I'm not." Lie.
He laughed, so close; I could still feel his breathe on my face. "You are, Urie. You're a fag. I always suspected, but this pretty much confirms it."
I wanted to yell. Slap him. But I didn't have the will. Ryan's harsh words didn't hurt me. I knew how nasty he could be, I just didn't expect him to be. Not like this. He was teasing me, testing me. He wanted me to say it. He wanted me to confess, to admit to it. He enjoyed seeing people humiliated. Fuck, I fell so prettily in his trap. I should've known. This was the boy who had smiled when our high school quarterback found out his girlfriend was cheating on him. Ryan had posted the pictures of her and him on myspace. He just laughed when Joshua cried, fucking cried, announcing to the whole school he was going to marry her, calling her a slut in front of everybody. The kind of drama you thought only existed on television shows. Broke his fucking heart and what did Ryan do? He just high-fived everybody and laughed along with everybody else.
Ryan Ross was everybody's worst enemy, didn't mean I wanted him to become mine.
"Ryan, I like boys," I said softly, my eyes darting to the ground.
He leaned closer, and damn him for being taller. I bit my tongue, glancing up at him pleadingly.
"Just say it, Urie, ok? I'm not homophobic. I just want to hear you say it," he urged, giving me a reassuring look.
He smiled in triumph, pulling me closer until our mouths met, his hand curling around my neck, keeping me in place and he pushed me away a second later. I nearly tripped, but I gained my balance quick enough. I could never understand Ryan's games; he played them all the time. As children, he always asked me irrelevant questions, using it to distract me so he could cheat. Move the chess piece, steal a fry. Glance at my paper and copy. I just dealt with it, because Ryan could be a brat and a jerk, but he was a fiercely loyal friend when I needed him. My mother said I let people stomp all over me and she scolded me for letting people use me as their doormat. I wondered if Ryan considered me a friend like I did. Or maybe he did think of me as some doormat. Another person to play with and manipulate.
"Ok, well, I'm not," he said, his hand on my wrist. I looked up. He smiled at me, and it was a genuine one, I could tell. I knew the difference of his fake ones and his real ones. His sly and calculating ones. He wasn't playing a game, not now. "But if you do this for me, I'll let you do what you want."
"I don't want anything," I said honestly. I didn't want his pity. I wanted him to genuinely want to be with me. But I laughed out loud, bitterly. Ryan Ross wasn't gay. How could I forget this small detail? He lost virginity to the school whore when he was thirteen in a restroom stall. He always told him his sexual endeavors, even when I didn't want to hear them. He loved girls, and he loved to fuck them.
"Don't get me wrong, I do like you," he whispered, his hands threading through my hair, grabbing my attention. I looked into his brown eyes, finding truth. "You're the only boy I would kiss, or want to. You're different. Does that make me gay?"
"No," I said, "no, it doesn't."
"Ok, so you'll do this for me. I really like Trisha. I wouldn't ask this if I didn't want to," he persisted, tugging me closer, his face in my hair now. It was alluring. It was comforting. To know that he now knew my secret and he wasn't condemning me or yelling at me.
He accepted me. It was the very least I could do.
"Boys! Dinner!" my mother's voice rang up the stairs, and I choked. I reflexively pushed him away, as if my mother had unexpectedly come into my room and caught us red-handed.
"C'mon, Bren," Ryan urged, gesturing me to go first. "After dinner, we can discuss our plans in more detail."
I gulped, following him and into the den of hell. Or so it felt like. This was my damnation. And Ryan Ross was going to lead me there. I was going to follow. Gladly.
AN: Don't bash Ryan, he's not normally this cruel to bden. He just always gets he wants.