Brendon’s life had a disappointing number of constants. He was born to James and Grace Blake, both practicing Mormons, as the youngest of five children; his older siblings were all well behaved and generally fit in to the role that was expected of them, whereas it was obvious that his parents were tired by the time they got to their fifth child and maybe didn’t do as well in successfully indoctrinating him into unconditionally believing everything they taught, and his natural restlessness and curiosity, coupled with a very strong case of adhd that was diagnosed when he was very young, meant that he was something of an oddball in a traditionally strict and straightforward family of Mormons. Brendon always felt like the odd one out; not only was he the youngest, but he felt excluded from the faith he had been raised into as soon as he reached double digits; when they all went to church, Brendon didn’t feel any sense of strong connection to God that his family talked so passionately about, the homophobic preaching made him deeply uncomfortable, as did the long, exhausting list of rules and expectations. Brendon knew what was expected of him- go to church every Sunday or more, get a good job, marry a Mormon woman, raise Mormon kids and teach them to do the same thing. It wasn’t that he was unhappy- he just knew he didn’t want that kind of life and religion didn’t have a strong a place in his life than his parents would have wanted.

Of course, it wasn’t like he was going to tell them this- if he turned around and told his god-fearing parents that he didn’t believe, he didn’t want to go to the temple anymore- he knew it’d break them and he felt some kind of pressure, like he owed it to them to follow in their footsteps. They were happy as far as couples went, sure, but Brendon had lived in the same house with four irritating siblings his entire life and he knew he wanted to break away from the uniformity. On the surface, he remained the same; polite, respectful, he pretended to pray, he went to the temple, he even expertly bullshitted prayer at the dinner table whenever he was chosen to lead it. In the background, though, he wondered how they would react if they knew their weird, hyperactive but generally well behaved son had probably already earned himself a ticket to hell in God’s books. He used and sold drugs from his early teens, and even coffee was banned in the church of the LDS- he’d already fucked up the whole chastity thing- he snuck out, broke rules, and didn’t care. It was fun. He didn’t believe in God- he’d decided that when he was twelve or thirteen- but sometimes that indoctrination and his parent’s teachings got into his head, and Brendon freaked out- what if God is real, what if I am going to hell?

It was all a lot for a thirteen year old to handle, but another more comforting constant was always there to make that easier. Brendon had lived at the same house since he was born, and Ryan and his dad moved next door when he as about two- they went to the same school, befriended eachother at a very early age thanks to Brendon’s overenthusastic parents and Ryan’s dad’s passiveness. They’d been best friends ever since, and Ryan was his confidant; when he learned that he didn’t even believe the core ‘truths’ of what he was being taught, he immediately turned to Ryan, confessing that he didn’t have faith anymore. He felt the need to explain exactly why, like he needed a reason to do what he thought was the equivalent of stabbing his parents in the back, but Ryan didn’t ask many questions, just nodded along and generally agreed with him. He had just asked whether he planned to tell his parents- and for Brendon, it was a hard pass. Though it wasn’t too difficult for Brendon to pretend nothing had changed (in fact he became even more faux-impassioned with God and Jesus, getting more involved at the temple of only to make a convincing cover), it took a toll on him mentally because he constantly had to practice something he disagreed with, pretend he agreed with things and rules that made him incredibly uncomfortable.

He wasn’t sure exactly [i]why[/i] the Mormon teachings about god’s plan for a family, one man and one woman, made him so infuriatingly and sickeningly uneasy whenever they were mentioned, and he had to force himself to woodenly nod along, act attentive, when all he was thinking about was how that couldn’t be right, why couldn’t people just love eachother and that was enough? Why was same-sex marriage really that bad? Brendon was tormented by it, and though he excused himself as simply believing in the rights of other people, there was something else, and it took him a long time to figure it out. He didn’t feel comfortable with the traditional model of a ‘good’ family because he wanted what he, according to the church, was wrong, and something he virtually couldn’t have, and the person who made him realise that was none other than his lifelong best friend. Brendon had never spoken about his sexuality much- he told Ryan about all of what he did, but nothing beyond that. He didn’t say how it wasn’t actually that great, it didn’t feel right for him; and in turn Ryan was fairly closed off about it, and they never really addressed why. Brendon rather spontaneously realised that he just wanted to [i]try something,[/i] and he kissed Ryan, and, thank fuck, apparently Ryan felt the same as he did. They were both stupid. Brendon’s feelings had been suppressed by indoctrination and Ryan was just oblivious to his own emotions or very good at hiding it. It just felt natural for them to progress on to being romantic, even if Brendon still felt a sense of guilt sometimes in his chest and his gut.

He tried not to be too angsty about it- in the beginning, it had been exciting and anxious and complicated, but it was comfortable, and they settled into their new dynamic very quickly (really, it was the same, except they called eachother ‘baby’ and they kissed and Brendon got jealous when his sister started blatantly flirting with Ryan). They became even closer, and Ryan came around more often; even when Brendon was grounded, which was often considering Brendon was more and more defiant as he got older, Ryan literally snuck in through his window via climbing the convenient tree between their houses. They were virtually always together, and they got away with it because they were best friends from childhood. All of their friend’s parents, whenever seeing one of them alone, would ask where their ‘other half’ was. It was apparently very dramatic for them to go less than a whole day without seeing eachother, was obvious today when Brendon spent his free time sending Ryan texts about how he missed him yesterday, church sucks, when are you coming over.

Ryan turned up at his door around eight and Brendon answered, automatically and with a huge grin stepping forwards to greet him with an embrace. As expected, Ryan sidestepped him expertly, looking extremely alarmed, especially since Brendon had just loudly referred to him as ‘baby’ and it was known by both of them that it would be difficult to even pass it off as a joke. [i]What? Hi, hey, what's up.[/i] [b]”Hi.”[/b] Brendon pouted, but he got it. His parents were just that strict. He just didn’t really care at this point. [i]Careful.[/i] He laughed briefly, leaning against the doorframe as Ryan stepped through and then lightly brushed his hand. Mockingly, he snatched it away, looking affronted. [b]”That’s too much homoerotic subtext for me. You’re in a [i]Mormon[/i] household.”[/b] Brendon then straightened up and closed the front door, running a hand thoughtfully through his hair and then turning towards Ryan. 

[b]”Relax, they’re all out. Lucky you.”[/b] It was lucky. What were the chances that all six family members would be out at the same time? The only problem was, any of his siblings could come back at any time. For now, though... He followed Ryan to the stairwell, and while he was talking, he strained upwards to press a kiss against his check, just to annoy him. [i]It's been, like, fourteen hours apart. That's gotta be a new record for us.[/i] Brendon nodded, starting to head up the stairs. [b]”Another hour and I would’ve died.”[/b] He skirted around the railing and then head towards his bedroom, opening the door and leaving it for Ryan to close. Brendon then basically collapsed onto his bed, his knees bent and his feet on the mattress, facing the ceiling for a few seconds before he shifted onto his side to look at Ryan. [b]”Next time, you’re coming to church with me again.”[/b]