Picture Perfect. (Ryden/Rydon one shots)

I've Never Been So Scared Of Being Alone. (Part 1)

"Your face is all red, Ryan." Brendon giggled out the first words he would ever speak to the boy.

"Shut up." Ryan huffed. But, in fact, just seeing the adorable brown-haired boy in front of him was enough to make him hot all over. And Brendon knew it.

He and Brendon hit it off, laughing and talking until the sun rose. They were inseparable. Ryan's heart hurt. The brown hair that fell into his eyes sometimes, the way the light hit his chocolate colored eyes, making them sparkle. The way his teeth were white and perfectly straight despite the cigarettes even Ryan couldn't talk him out of. In Ryan's eyes, Brendon was perfect.

...

"Ryan, can I plllllease come over today?" Brendon begged, taking the taller boy's hands in his own.

"I-I, uh, don't know if that's a good idea." Ryan stuttered nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand Brendon wasn't latched onto.

"Whhyy?" Brendon whined while Ryan racked his brain for something in his room that would be evidence for his late night activities. He changed the sheets yesterday, rehid his blades this morning and even changed the bandages on his arms during lunch. Now they were on the way to Brendon's house. Ryan usually dropped Brendon off and then walked home himself. It's always been like that.

"B-because." Ryan shrugged and Brendon gave his best puppy dog eyes. Fuck. Ryan sighed and Brendon jumped up, doing a happy dance, knowing he had won.

Ryan rolled his eyes, a smirk on his lips. Brendon was so weird.

"I get to see Ryro's bedroom!" He cheered, grabbing Ryan's wrist and dashing past his house. Ryan gasped, pulling his arm away and rubbing it as it started bleeding. Oh man no.

"What's wrong, Ry? Did I hurt you? I'm so-" Brendon tried again to grab his arm but Ryan pulled away, pain in both of their eyes. Ryan felt bad for lying to Brendon but he just faked a smile and said he was fine. Brendon frowned.

"You're bleeding, Ryro." He pouted out. Ryan sighed.

"Brendon, I'm fine. Seriously. I'll clean it up when we get to my house." He forced another smile.

"But I didn't grab you hard enough to bleed..." Brendon murmured but Ryan ignored him.

"Here, chill in my room and I'll be right back." Ryan smiled as he pointed to the room across from the bathroom. Brendon nodded, leaving the door to Ryan's room open as he sat on his best friend's bed, admiring all the band posters and the guitar in the corner. But none of that was what caught his eyes the most...

"Shit." Ryan hissed. His cuts stung as rinsed them with cold water, gently rubbing the blood off. He quickly dried his arm and wrapped the freshly opened cuts. He didn't want to worry Brendon by taking so long.

"Hey, Brendon." Ryan smiled as he opened the door. Brendon's eyes were the size of the moon, holding something shiny in his hands. "Brendon, where did you-"

"Show me your wrists, Ryan." Brendon breathed in a whisper. He connected the pieces. Ryan was screwed.

"W-Why?"

"Your wrists, Ryan." Brendon commanded gently and Ryan held them out hesitantly. Brendon frowned as he stood up and slowly walked over to his scared best friend. He carefully lifted the sleeves and pulled aside the bandages.

"Ry." He gasped as he saw the cuts lining Ryan's pals skin. Some pink and fresh, others old. "H-How long?" Brendon asked hesitantly, scared of the answer. Ryan didn't deserve this. He deserved happiness and smiles and love. What would cause him to inflict pain on himself?

"..I'm sorry." Ryan whispered, hot tears gathering in his eyes.

"No, Ryan, shh. It's not your fault." In a swift movement Brendon stood up and wrapped his arms around the taller boy, stroking his hair and rocking him back and forth. "It's not your fault, Ry. Don't apologize." By then both of them were sobbing and the gates were broken. The tears were flowing freely and they both found comfort in each other's arms.

"How long, Ryan?" Brendon asked again once they both calmed down. Ryan rubbed his eyes with his shirt sleeve.

"U-Uh, a year before I met you? Around there." Ryan sniffled.

Brendon sighed. This was killing him. "Four fucking years?" He breathed out. Ryan simple nodded, staring at his feet.

"Brendon, I'm so sorry. I-I just...I didn't want you to come over because-because if my dad was home...and drunk he'd hit me and-and I didn't want you to see that. Brendon, he hates me." Ryan had to pause, rubbing furiously at his eyes as he started crying again. "He calls he a fag and-and it's true, Bren. I'm not good for anything, I can't do anything. I just want it to stop, Bren. Make it stop." Ryan was crying again and Brendon only tightened his arms around Ryan, whispering in his ear.

"Ry, relax. You have to calm down." Brendon tried desperately to keep his voice soothing and calm. "None of those things are true. A fag is a cigarette. Are you a cigarette, Ry?" Brendon asked gently, causing a small smile to form on Ryan's lips as he shook his head, the smile disappearing as fast as it had appeared. "You're good for being the most amazing friend I've ever had. You're passionate about things you feel strongly about and your kind and caring. Ry, you're one of the best guitarist I know and when you sing when you think no one can hear you is beautiful. You have the voice of an angel and are always so happy...Ryan I am so sorry I didn't notice sooner. I am so sorry, Ry. I love you so much." Brendon whispered out all the things that rushed into his brain, not caring if they made sense or not. He'd die if Ryan ever killed himself. He needed Ryan. He needed his best friend. It was them against everyone else. It will always be them against the world.

"Bren.."

"You're my best friend, Ryan. I can't do this without you." Brendon whispered. Ryan hiccuped, closing the distance between them by pressing his lips to Brendon's. Brendon was caught off guard but kissed back nonetheless. This is what Ryan needed.

Hell, maybe Brendon needed it too.