The Naked Truth [Ryden]

Nineteen: Is It Deep Enough For You?

Dallon had passed out some time ago, and when he woke up, he was certain that this was not Gee's house. He'd never even seen Gee's bedroom, but he knew for a fact that it was not this. For a start it was tidy, no lingerie in sight, and there was a framed photograph of Spencer with what was probably his mom and dad. Right. Spencer's room, then.

It was cold, and it was dark, and he was on an unfamiliar bed. There was nobody else in the room, and the door was closed, and his head hurt so much he could barely move.

Beside the photo of Spencer with his parents was another framed photo, this time of him and Brendon at some sort of bar. He picked it up, feeling tears rise, and he looked down at it, guilt swimming in his stomach. They were both grinning like idiots, their arms around each other, and they looked so...happy.

The door opened, making him jump and drop the photo. It hit the carpet with a dull thud, a crack appearing from one corner to the other. Dallon cowered away from whoever had come in, curling into a ball at the head of the bed, his head threatening to split in two.

"Hey." Spencer said softly, sitting at the foot of the bed, holding a large glass of water in one hand, and two pills in another. Dallon slowly raised his head, sniffing a little. "How are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts." He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Where - where's Bert?"

"He's downstairs. I thought I'd better check up on you first - you were pretty out of it when I arrived at Gee's."

"I...was?"

"Mm-hm." He handed Dallon the water and the pills, and the younger took them, albeit a little hesitantly. "Take those. It's just aspirin. It'll make you feel better."

Dallon swallowed the pills and drank the water, before setting the glass on the nightstand and crossing his legs. He had to admit, it did make him feel a little better. The water alone dulled the pounding in his head, even if it was the tiniest bit.

"Do you want me to get Bert?" Spencer asked, and he nodded quickly, chewing on his thumbnail. "Okay. I'll go get him." He leaned forward as if to hug the younger boy, but instead he whispered, "It's nothing personal, you understand" before standing up and leaving the room.

Nothing personal? What had that meant? What wasn't personal? Was that like a song or something? What was Spencer on about?

He didn't have time to mull it over, because his vision began to swim, blurring at the edges, and before he knew it, he was blacking out, for the last time.

~

Flash! Flash! Flash!

Photography was something that Ryan adored and would always adore, no matter what men were in or out of his life. And even though this particular shoot was something he'd been reluctant to do, doing it would show Brendon fucking Urie just who was boss.

He was angry. He was so unbelievably, unreasonably angry, and this photoshoot would be the only thing that enabled him to let his anger out. He wasn't into the BDSM scene at all, but his manager had insisted, and he found himself wearing a leather catsuit and heels and tying some random male model to a bed.

And he was getting into it, posing with whips, and handcuffs, and the other guy was even blindfolded at one point. He also did a few solo shots, draping himself over a throne like he was the fucking King of them all, lifting his long legs in the air.

He fucking loved it.

And he completely forgot about Brendon, until -

"Jesus, Ry."