If Brendon had never been curious about it all, or exposed to the ‘sin’ of homosexuality, he doubted that his parents would have even mentioned it at all, or provided him the apparent divine wisdom of God, which was just code for horrendous bigotry he was supposed to live his life by and not question. They’d have preferred that he not even know what being gay was- but he did, he’d been told about it at school, he’d been called certain slurs, and he’d asked what they mean. He would go home, curious, uncomfortable but fascinated, and ask his mother- mom, can men marry men? Can women marry women? And of course the reaction was discomfort and awkwardness from his parents, followed by Brendon being told to go upstairs for a bit, your father and I need to talk. And then he was called down and told that though people might try to tell him otherwise, homosexuality was a sin, marriage was for a man and a woman and for a man and a woman only. ‘Hate the sin, not the sinner’, he was told- and at first, that made sense to him. But the more he thought about it, the more he felt distant from the idea of marrying a woman and having kids, the less he understood. When he was still religious, he’d pray, ask God why, exactly, being gay wasn’t allowed, but he’d also reassure God that he wasn’t. After that, he began to listen more in church (when he was younger he’d fidget and become distracted even more easily, and he barely understood what was being said to him anyway), and he payed attention when, during sermons, the sin of homosexuality was mentioned, how traditional families and their values were the only way to live a life without sin. Brendon’s initial curiosity and fascination grew into a deep discomfort he felt within himself. Something wasn’t right with this whole picture, and he knew it.

So, he knew he was gay. It was easy to say that, but it took him a long time to accept- and even after that, after he and Ryan decided with excited, teenage, lovestruck grins that they were boyfriends, they both felt inward shame, and for Brendon, it was deep-seated, because everything he’d ever been taught told him that this was wrong, against God, even disgusting. Funnily enough, though, Brendon became increasingly comfortable a lot faster than Ryan did, who didn’t even really know exactly what his dad thought about it and hadn’t been raised on such bigotry. Even so, he still wouldn’t hold Brendon’s hand in public. He’d still sometimes make it just a little awkward, reject any of Brendon’s affection, even platonically motivated,  that could he interpreted as romantic. It didn’t really help Brendon’s internalised sense of guilt and shame that resurfaced every so often to make him miserable, but Brendon understood. Of course he did. Better than anyone. He was just more reckless, defiant, began to care less what his parents thought and played dangerously with fire, risking being discovered by making suggestive comments and picking sensitive fights and questioning what his parents and pastors said. Of course, it terrified Ryan. He had more than a few bruises on his legs and shins where Ryan had kicked him under the table.

They were okay, though. It became easier and felt more natural with every passing day, and today, they had Brendon’s house to themselves- for a little while, anyway. Brendon intended to take full advantage of that- and apparently, so did Ryan. [i]Yes.[/i] Brendon grinned. [b]”Well, you read my fuckin’ mind.[/b] He closed his eyes when Ryan ran his fingers through his hair, before turning onto his back to tease Ryan irritatingly in a way that clearly Ryan didn’t find amusing. [i]Hey, gross, that hasn’t [/i]actually [i]happened. Don’t abuse your power over me.[/i] Brendon giggled when Ryan shoved his shoulder, and turned onto his side. [b]”Gross? Really? And, is that a challenge?”[/b] A pause for effect. Brendon’s voice was equal part teasing and serious- Ryan could never really tell whether he was totally serious or just having him on. He was just that unpredictable. [b]”I wouldn’t say I have a [i]power[/i] over you. When I can turn you on in [i]Church[/i], that’s when I’ll be sure.”[/b] He was laughing to himself when Ryan climbed over him onto the bed. [i]Yeah, fine, you’re worth everything. I hate it.[/i]

Brendon seemed very pleased with himself, relaxing easily against Ryan’s chest and into his arms, happily greeted by Ryan’s arms looping around his waist and his hands flat against his chest. Brendon passed his boyfriend the remote so he could focus more on him and not what movie they were going to pretend they wanted to watch and then just play as background noise to them making out. Classy. [i]I see, you never had anything in mind in the first place.[/i] Brendon smiled when Ryan kissed his cheek, then tugged a little harder at his hoodie toggle. [b]”Actually, I had you in mind,”[/b] He corrected, voice a little softer. [i]Hm.[/i] He turned around, barely kissed him, searched his face while Ryan half-heartedly searched for a movie. He watched as Ryan dropped the remote and paused for a second to listen out for his choice- Ferris Bueller. They’d watched this a thousand times. Perfect. Brendon shifted closer as Ryan fit his hands around his waist, leaning up. [i]So you've said. I wonder if we'll ever be the kind of people who can go a whole day not seeing one another and be fine.[/i] Brendon highly doubted it.

Brendon didn’t stop looking at him when Ryan lifted his hands to frame his face and pushed some hair back out of his eyes, just sort of leaned forwards and up as if waiting for Ryan to kiss him. [i]But, I missed you too. Obviously.[/i] Brendon grinned, infatuated. [b]”Kiss me like you missed me?”[/b] Ryan probably wasn’t listening, but Brendon received his kiss anyway, moving his arms to throw over his shoulders and chasing his mouth when he pulled back, trailing off distractedly towards the corner of his mouth and his jaw when Ryan began to speak again. [i]I'll just move in here and we won't have this problem again. Look, your twin bed perfectly fits both of us, it's fine.[/i] Brendon nodded, kissed him again, not too urgent, but not exactly leisurely. They were teenagers, lovesick, and impatient. Brendon, for once, wasn’t really a fan of excessive talking. [b]”That sounds like a great idea. We can ‘watch movies’ every night.”[/b] Brendon grinned against his skin, then moved his hands, one curling around Ryan’s upper arm, the other hanging on to the zipper of his hoodie and playing with it absently. [b]”How aren’t you, like, dying?”[/b] He asked between kisses, even deciding to bite gently on his bottom lip. [b]”It’s warm as hell in here.”[/b]