Gold And Coal (Ryden AU)

2.2 ◇ Never Let You Go

I awoke by a lamp being held to my face and blinked rapidly, groaning in frustration.

"Ryan?" Jon asked and I swatted the lamp out of my face, the worry that it might fall over and set my house on fire only coming a little later. "Sorry, you weren't answering and I was just checking if you were there."

I mumbled something and Jon was about to leave when Brendon decided it would be a fucking great time to move under the blankets and whine softly.

"Who's here?" Jon inquired, curiously holding the lamp over my bed and shedding light onto another lump under my blanket, half on top of me.

"Uh...," I muttered, digging my fingers into Brendon's stomach.

"Is it Z? Oh my god, Ryan, I thought you were, you know..."

"No! It's Brendon!" I exclaimed in horror.

"Brendon?! Ryan, what the fuck?" He whisper-shouted at me and Brendon let out another small whine against my chest, which was, by the way, completely wet by the tears he had been shedding.

"Jon, go to bed," I moaned and he did, sending my one of those Jon looks, the one that made you feel insanely guilty.

Once he was gone, Brendon crawled upwards along my body until his head was poking up from underneath the blanket.

"Maybe... I should go," he sniffled and I ran my hand through his hair.

"It's alright," I assured him, and probably myself more than that.

"There's.... something else... I-I need to tell you." And great, now he was back to bawling his eyes out. I could tell this wasn't good news.

"Whatever you want to say, keep it to yourself for now. I'm so close to kicking you out I don't think I need another reason to do so," I murmered.

"B-but-"

"Brendon, no," I said, a little harsher, which made another tear trickle down his cheek.

He didn't protest though, and snuggled up against me once more, with me soothingly drawing patterns in his skin.

What the hell was I getting myself into.

----------

The next time I woke up, Brendon was sprawled all across me, making it nearly impossible for me to move.

Several wet spots on my shirt indicated he had moved around quite a lot and had been crying through out the night. A wonder I even slept through that.

"Brendon," I whispered, shaking him awake. He tumbled off of me with a series of tired moans and groans.

"I need to get up," I continued after he looked like he was going straight back to sleep.

"No," he protested, holding on to my arm and pulling it closer to him.

Spoilt little bitch.

I yanked my arm out of his grasp and stumbled up, lighting a lamp and changing my clothes.

"Wha'bout me," he whined and I gritted my teeth, momentarily remembering why I hated him in the first place. Maybe not hated. Hate is a strong word. Dislike. Annoyance. Something along the lines of that. A negative feeling, that's for sure.

"Please don't leave me here alone," he whimpered and I turned around to look at him, which was a big mistake. Because he was staring at me with those huge, puffy eyes of his and his ridiculously handsome features.

Fuck him.

That did seem like a valid option, to be perfectly honest.

I sighed and gave in, of course I did. Have you seen his face?