Infinite, Sometimes

12

Ryan was busy trying to find words and put them in order to form coherent questions. He knew he wasn't going to get all the answers he wanted in one small move. Brendon had not taken much time to acquaint himself with Ryan's room before he was drawn to Ryan's extensive, alphabetized music collection. He shook his damp hair with his hand while a finger on his other hand traced up and down the rows of albums. He carefully noted each artist, feeling more and more at ease each time he recognized one of his favorites. Brendon didn't notice any that he didn't like.

"Bren, what happened?"

Brendon was quiet for about five seconds before he pulled Ryan's copy of Downward Spiral off of the rack. "Can we listen?"

"Yeah, of course." Ryan took the case and popped the disk into his computer. "You like Nine Inch Nails?"

Brendon nodded. "Track fourteen if you... don't care." Brendon's voice was caught in his throat and he stumbled to finish his sentence.

"No, no, it's a beautiful song."

"It is." Brendon took the pillow off of Ryan's bed and sat down on the floor, quickly laying down on his stomach. He folded his arms and rested them on the pillow, burying his face in the bit of pillow that was exposed inside the circle created by his arms. He focused on the song as it blared out of Ryan's computer and he allowed Trent's voice to dominate his ears.

Ryan turned up the volume as loud as he could without causing the speakers to distort the sound. He opened up his journal client and typed quickly, wanting to make a permanent memory of his thoughts but not wanting to waste too much time focusing on himself.

Yeah, so, here goes nothing. Oh hell, what am I saying, it's everything. Absolutely everything. I don't think I've killed this yet. It's time to keep it alive.

I want this to be okay.

It's not a job. I want this.

--RR

Ryan stood up and stepped over his friend to make it to the door. He silently pushed it shut and he was sure to turn the lock, gripping it with his fingers and turning it as hard as he could to assure himself that it would never be opened. He wasn't sure who he was trying to be quiet for as he brought himself to the ground, since he wanted Brendon to be aware of his every move. Ryan laid down on his side and stole the edge of his pillow to rest his elbow on and he propped his head up with his hand, pressing his ear into his head.

"Wanna talk now?"

Brendon shook his head and carefully moved his hand to under his face. He moved it around a bit before returning it to its original position. Silently, he breathed, his back slowly rising and falling, almost in rhythm with the words that fell out of the speakers.

Ryan waited until Brendon exhaled to lay his hand on the boy's back. His arm followed the rise and fall effortlessly, creating circles, small at first, gradually growing to trace Brendon's body from just under his neck to just above the waist of his jeans. His shirt was damp from the rain that now fell heavily. Ryan could hear it slamming into the roof, even with the song playing. He tuned it out and listened to the music to try to understand why Brendon wanted that particular song, although Ryan's heart continued to sink because he didn't really have to wonder why. The lyrics spoke for themselves, and Ryan stared at the side of Brendon's head. He didn't bother to ask for what he really wanted, to see his friend's face, because he knew it was fastened to the pillow and it would take an army to rip them apart. He was not sure if he was ready for that kind of battle. Listening to Hurt had always made Ryan feel many things, but it never made him feel quite like this.

You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

Ryan was glad that he had put the song on repeat. He wanted this to last as long as it needed to. Brendon's back was growing warmer from the constant friction of Ryan's hand tracing the same path for what seemed like forever, or at least almost two repetitions of the song. Ryan was in such a trance from the combination of the music and Brendon's pattern of slow breathing, and he was jolted from his daze when he realized that this pattern had changed in almost an instant after several minutes of stagnancy. Ryan first noticed the movements of his hand that was still gliding across Brendon's back. His hand had begun to move with the slight shaking of Brendon's body, shaking that would grow and subside with each breath that the boy took. Ryan's eyes were drawn to his hand, but he quickly looked up to Brendon's head in what was a natural reaction to the expectation of sound.