trigger warning: abuse
☐ ☐ ☐
Brysen answers the call from Dylan as it comes through.
"Hello?" He says.
"Bry?" Dylan's voice comes through the phone shaking.
"I need you. Can you come now?"
Brysen jumps into high-gear, grabbing his keys and heading out the door. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
☐ ☐ ☐
The house is lit up with lights as Brysen pulls into Dylan's driveway, throwing the car into park, jumping out and running towards the front door.
He takes the stairs two at a time, going into Dylan's bedroom, where he finds him crouched in the corner.
Dylan doesn't look up until Brysen is squatted in front of him.
"It's not your fault," Brysen whispers in his ear.
Dylan looks at him, eyes filled with tears, grabbing onto him as if, when he lets go, he's going fall over or float away.
"I need you to talk to me," Brysen whispers to him. "What do you need?"
"Out. I need to get out of here." Dylan whispers, tears freely falling.
"Do you want anything?"
"No. No. No."
"Okay, okay, okay...ssh...it's okay."
Brysen leads him out of his room and down the stairs, leading him to the car, buckling him up and shutting his door.
When Brysen get in the driver's side, Dylan looks over at him, grabbing his hand, but refuses to catch his eye again. The car ride back is silent.
☐ ☐ ☐
Brysen leads Dylan up the stairs, to his bedroom.
Brysen's mom comes in just a few minutes later, looking from him to Dylan.
"If you need anything, we're all here for you." She says, rubbing Dylan's shoulder; Dylan nods, and she walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Dylan showers quickly, going back into Brysen's room.
"Do you need anything?" Brysen asks him as they sit down on his bed after.
Dylan shakes his head, crawling on top of Brysen's chest.
"Go to sleep," Brysen whispers. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
Dylan leans into him more, falling asleep a few minutes later as Brysen runs his hands through Dylan's curly hair.
☐ ☐ ☐
Dylan wakes up a few hours later, looking up at Brysen from his chest, grabbing Brysen's hand and putting on his cheek; Brysen rubs his thumb over Dylan's cheek.
"Let's go downstairs." Brysen says, grabbing Dylan's wrist, pulling him down the stairs and into the living room, where Brysen's mom and aunt are sitting.
Dylan leans into Brysen, who wraps his arms around him, massaging his back. They both look from Dylan to Brysen, giving him a small smile.
Sitting on the couch, Brysen holds the cup full of Lemonade up to Dylan's lips, who takes a drink keeping eye contact. Brysen's heart pounds in his chest as he looks at his best friend.
☐ ☐ ☐
Back in Brysen's bedroom and Dylan is back to laying on Brysen.
Neither he or his mom have been able to get Brysen to eat much, except for a couple of spoonfuls of applesauce.
"You need to eat," Brysen says.
"I'm not hungry," Dylan mutters, looking up at Brysen through his eyelashes.
Brysen nods, rubbing his thumbs over Dylan's cheeks, not wanting to fight with him, but making a promise to himself to make him eat later.
☐ ☐ ☐
The next morning, Brysen manages to get a little bit of food in Dylan, but not enough to be considered a "meal".
After eating, they go into the living room where Dylan climbs onto Brysen's lap, wrapping his arms around him, resting his head on Brysen's chest.
Dylan looks up at Brysen.
"Can we go back upstairs? Please?" Dylan says softly, his eyes pleading.
Brysen nods. "Of course,"
"Dyl, I need you to eat more for me," Brysen says, standing over Dylan who's sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I'm not hungry," Dylan tells him again, looking up at his best friend.
"Something small. Please? Even if it's just an applesauce pouch? Not all of it, just a few sips. Please."
Dylan holds the pouch up to his lips, looking at Brysen through his eyelashes as he swallows the last bit, taking a deep breath.
"I'm proud of you," Brysen tells him softly, leaning in to rest his forehead against Dylan's.
Dylan closes his eyes at Brysen's touch, moving his head to his shoulder.
"What are you thinking about?" Brysen asks, pulling back to look at Dylan, threading his fingers through Dylan's curls.
"Everything. You." Dylan replies, looking into Brysen's eyes; Brysen smiles softly.
"What about me?" Brysen asks, watching Dylan, as if he could see the gears turning in his head if looks for long enough.
"How much I want you to kiss me," Dylan says softly, meeting Brysen's eyes.
Brysen's stomach lurches into his throat, heart pounding.
"Are you sure?" Brysen asks, leaning forward.
Dylan nods, and Brysen presses his lips against Dylan's, his fingers curling in his hair.
Dylan grabs the front of Brysen's shirt, holding on tightly, scooting closer and closer, smiling against his lips.
Brysen pulls away, looking into Dylan's eyes.
"I want you to know..." Dylan begins. "I want you to know what happened."
Brysen shakes his head. "No. You— I want you to wait until you're ready."
"I am, Bryce. I'm ready to tell you. I know that you know my dad and I... don't have the best relationship." Dylan pauses; Brysen cups Dylan's face, holding it in his hands.
"You don't have to keep going," Brysen whispers, looking at Dylan.
"I do," Dylan replies. "I need you to know what happened. I know you know what he's done in the past... The other night he came home. He was drunk. He said some things, he hit me. Then he left. I don't know where he went or if he'll be back."
Dylan looks away from Brysen, who grabs his face turning it back towards his.
"Thank you," Brysen murmurs.
"I love you." Dylan replies, kissing Brysen again.
Dylan lifts his shirt over his head, revealing the bruise on his breastbone.
Brysen's eyes flash as he looks at the bruise. "Does it hurt?" he asks softly.
Dylan shakes his head. "Not as much as it did,"
Leaning forward, Brysen presses his lips against the edge of the bruise, pressing kisses softly all around as Dylan intertwines their fingers together.
☐ ☐ ☐
That night Dylan falls asleep tangled in Brysen's arms, his face resting in the crook of his neck as Brysen threads his fingers through Dylan's hair.
At two o'clock in the morning, Brysen is shaken awake by his mom, Dylan nowhere to be found.
"Dylan's in the backyard," she says softly.
Brysen nods. "I didn't even feel him get up."
Brysen slides in between Dylan, wrapping his arms around his waist.
"You okay, my love?" Brysen asks, kissing behind Dylan's ear.
Dylan puts his hands over top of Brysen's. "Just a bad dream,"
"You could've woken me up. I don't care what time it is."
Dylan turns to Brysen, smiling softly. "How'd I ever land you?"
"I could ask you the same." Brysen replies.
"What if we ran away? Ran away from here? Just us?" Dylan asks after a few moments. "I don't want to go back."
Brysen grabs Dylan face, kissing him. "I'm not going to let you go back. You're going to stay here, with me, okay? But for now, let's go to bed. Come on. Come back to bed."
Dylan follows Brysen into bed, crawling on top of him, resting his face, again, in the crook of Brysen's neck. Brysen wraps his arms around Dylan, holding him close.
10/12/2022
I have loved these characters since I first wrote them, so I thought I should do them better. If anyone's interested (+ maybe if no one is) I will make a part two.
