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Title: Waves of Wooden Legs
Author: [livejournal.com profile] calidearie
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: sexual situations, sexual frustration, abstract ending
POV: Brendon
Summary: Brendon is in love with a man who can't let love in.
Disclaimer: Not real. No profit has been gained from this.
Beta: None.
Author Notes: Well, it has been a long time since I've written for this pairing. I didn't know the Ryden ship was still sailing for me. Maybe it isn't. Anyway, let me know what you think.



Brendon gasped for air. This was so wrong on so many levels, but nothing felt so right as his hands tried to find purchase on the too soft earth below him. He could hear the roaring, crashing waves behind him, water over water and the softer sound of when they would pull back, leaving fizzing foam on the beach sand. He struggled to hear the even softer grunts coming from the man behind him, but the waves were too loud and the wind too strong as it carried the other man’s voice away.

Brendon knew the other man was close to coming. His thrusts were getting erratic, his thin, long fingers were digging into the flesh of his hips, leaving marks. It was like he was trying to keep himself from coming. He was holding on, but holding back.

Brendon choked back a broken sob. He was not crying. But there were tears. Each moment was punctuated with a different feeling. He couldn't figure what was what. Want. Need. Love. Hate. He hates this man for making him feel these feelings, but loves him anyway.

He’ll always love him. He was doomed from the start. First falling in love with his big brown eyes, his silky brown hair. His little nose and pink lips. His thin body that angled in all the right places.

Then the man, or boy at the time, opened his mouth and said words that would change his life forever: “Sure, you know how to play guitar and all, but what makes you you?” He had eyed him critically and raised a questioning brow.

Brendon was terrified. He was shy. But not that kind of shy. “I could do a Gollum impersonation,” he blurted out. And the next thing Brendon could remember was the way the boy had laughed. It was a chuckle. Nothing amazing, but the sound had resonated in Brendon's gut, making his insides flutter and twist. His body confirmed his thoughts. He was in love. He was in love with a boy named Ryan Ross.

And he was doomed ever since, as Ryan couldn’t love him back in the way that he ached for.

Now, Ryan was filling him, inside and out. Brendon let out a strangled moan and imagined Ryan’s face on the brink of coming. His mouth would be open, forming a silent ‘O'. His eyes screwed shut. His adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed the salty wind. He could imagine his face perfectly. He knew Ryan like no one else. He loved Ryan like no one else. He wanted nothing more than to be close to him, but Ryan could’t let him.

Sometimes, when they were alone together, Ryan would have these moments where it seemed like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. As if he was physically unable to get the words out. And this man always has words. He just can't say the words when he wants to. Ryan is just too far away from himself to know himself, to know that he's capable of loving and being loved.

Brendon wished that Ryan would go slower. He wished that it didn’t feel so good. He wished it would never end. He wished that it never happened because he knows he’ll be left wanting. Wanting more than he knew what the man could give. More wasn’t about sex. More was about love.

Ryan’s thrusts were starting to get sloppy, it no longer matched the pace of the waves. Brendon moaned when he felt the man’s fingers dig deeper into his skin, holding him, but not holding him in the way he wanted.

And then Ryan was coming and was whispering in his ear. “Come on, Brendon.”

Brendon bit his lip as he pulled on his own cock that was dripping with pre-cum, he moaned as he stroked once, then twice, and that was all it took for his broken world to finally shatter.

He opened his eyes to find himself alone.

But somewhere, in the distance, he heard a chuckle. Brendon's heart raced as he scanned the horizon. He strained his ears, narrowed his eyes and ignored his thoughts, which reminded him that the wind wouldn't have carried the sound to him. Or could it? Brendon licked his lips in anticipation. He got up on shaky legs and started walking towards the sound of the lapping waves, and perhaps, closer to everything he ever wanted.

THE END
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March 2012

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