Worse Than Nicotine

you're worse than nicotine (6)

(A/N I don't know about drugs, fuck this chapter)

***

Brendon sighed and slowly but surely, he opened the door.

On the other side, he saw Ryan looking back at him with a slightly dazed look, his pupils blown.

"Shit, Ryan, are you high all ready?" Brendon asked, concern and masked anger in his voice. Ryan gave him a faded smile and nodded slowly. "Fuckin' druggie," Brendon whispered under his breath and pulled on Ryan's shirt collar, bringing him closer and kissing him roughly.

Ryan held the kiss for a bit before pulling back.

"I thought you wouldn't want to see me ever again," Ryan whispered between deep breaths.

"You thought wrong. I've always hoped to see you again after we had split from the band."

"Let's not bring that up right now," Ryan smirked as he pulled Brendon in to kiss him again. Brendon put his hand to Ryan's chest to push him back.

"Wait, Ryan, stop. I'm not just trying to fuck you. I think I really do love you and I can't even believe I'm saying this, but I want more than a quick fuck." Ryan was taken aback.

"A-are you serious?" Ryan stuttered. Brendon gave him an unsure nod which didn't exactly make Ryan feel better.

"As long as you're not expecting me to give you free drugs just because I'm trying to get in your pants," Brendon chuckled.

"That might be a contributing factor, yes," Ryan giggled before breaking the space between them by pressing his lips to Brendon's.

Maybe it was just the high he was on, or the way Brendon smelt of cigarettes and sex, but Ryan felt his insides soften. Brendon's lips felt so smooth and velvety on his, just like he had always envisioned they would. Brendon kissed him lustfully for what felt like hours. When he finally let go, Ryan whimpered quietly at the loss of touch.

"Dès le premier jour, ton parfum m'enivre, mon amour," Ryan whispered as he pulled away from the kiss.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just a little saying that I remembered I know in French." Ryan smiled when he saw a bit of shock in Brendon's face.

"I didn't know you knew French. That's hot," Brendon said, running his hands through hair. "I have a couple deliveries I need to go make today, wanna come with?" Brendon asked. Ryan shrugged and nodded, feeling himself coming down from his high.

Brendon noticed this quickly and asked, "You wanna get high first?"

Ryan smiled and nodded excitedly. "Alright, but real quick though." Brendon pulled a small case from underneath a couch nearby and opened it. "My personal secret stash," Brendon whispered and winked at Ryan.

Ryan felt his cock twitch slightly at Brendon's sudden action, posing the threat of a hard-on.

Brendon opened the case and inside was a druggie's wet dream. "What do you want, I got a couple different acids, weed, coke, shrooms, you name it," Brendon listed off, turning to Ryan.

"Just some weed to tie me over for now, thanks," Ryan said, but secretly drooled over the massive amounts of acids he could've been dropping instead.

"Here," Brendon tossed a small box of paper to Ryan which hit him in the chest. "Roll your own joint."

Ryan, being the expertise he is, had a joint rolled within forty-five seconds and motioned for Brendon to toss him the lighter.

***

Smoke swirled around the room as the two boys became a giggling mess. Ryan's hands were shaking as Brendon pulled the joint from his fingers and pressed it between his lips. Their eyes were glazed with a prominent red tint as Brendon burned off the last of their fourth shared joint.

"Alright, c'mon, I got shit to do," Brendon stood and made his way to his car, Ryan and the tigers following shortly behind. Brendon began packing the trunk of his car and Ryan decided upon himself to take a place in the driver seat.

"Ryan, what the fuck are you doing?"

"I can drive man, you're too stoned. I know how to handle my weed, Bren," Ryan giggled. Brendon, being blazed out of his mind, agreed and sat himself in the passenger's seat.

"Oh baby, I suggest you don't call me Bren or else you're gonna get your pretty little mouth slapped," Brendon warned and Ryan just continued to giggle some more.

Brendon gazed at Ryan, loving the look of his physique and taking him all in. He thought he was so cute when he was high, giggling and smiling.

He leaned over and pulled Ryan's face towards his and kissed him with such passion that it made Ryan's heart beat faster and faster with each second they kissed, although it might have just been the drugs.

"Let's drive."

***

Ryan was driving down the road rather fast, but Brendon was too stoned to notice. He loved the feeling of going fast. Brendon rolled down his window and stuck his head out.

"FUCK YEAH!" he screamed as loud as he possibly could over the roar of the engine, making his throat feel sore. Up ahead, Brendon could barely make out a small red dot indicating a red light to stop.

"Ryan, slow down dude." Brendon ducked his head back in the car.

"Don't worry, baby, I got this," Ryan smirked and floored the gas. As high as Brendon was, he was now coming to the conclusion that Ryan was ten times more stoned than he was and was not in the right state of mind and that there were about ten other cars trying to cross the intersection.

"Ryan, fucking slow down!" Brendon tried to reach for the steering wheel to swerve them out of the way as they approached the intersection but it was too late.

Tires screeched.

Glass shattered.

Vehicles collided.

And as Brendon's eyes were fluttering to a close as he lay on the concrete, surrounded by broken parts and blood, he could hear Ryan's captivating voice in his head,

"Dès le premier jour, ton parfum m'enivre, mon amour."

***

(A/N if you didn't know from Nearly Witches, "dès le premier jour, ton parfum m'enivre, mon amour" means "since that first day, your scent intoxicates me, my love" also the song Nearly Witches doesn't exist in this story because Brendon did not continue the band after the split)