Oh dear god this scene. Coliinnnnnn. Must go to bed before I start writing entire scenes of your goddamn fic XD Seriously. This *scene*. Boyyyyyys. qli3bt49qrekljbqare;t4;o. The amount of *hurt*...I am *not* going to commentfic this entire thing *exercises self control*, but, Ryan tries to stick to the lines, something to cling to, something to anchor him, to let him act, and Brendon's just saying his name again, and again, until...he comes over. He's right there. Ryan knows in a second his hands will be on him--knows it will be unbearable. He drops to one knee in front of him, close enough for Ryan to be sick, and whispers "Don't you remember me?" And Ryan makes himself say it. Ryan makes himself trample on the truth and turn it to hate, and whispers back, carefully toned, professional as ever, still and submissive and tailored to please--"I've missed you."
It hurts more than all the years of abuse--because it was true. Because he really did. And...for this.
There is a sharp breath out and in inches from his face, the gasp that says the line worked. All Ryan's lines work. And he ignores the memory screaming inside him, and waits, obedient and consummately professional, for the touch that he thinks might finally break him once and for all.
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And Ryan makes himself say it. Ryan makes himself trample on the truth and turn it to hate, and whispers back, carefully toned, professional as ever, still and submissive and tailored to please--"I've missed you."
It hurts more than all the years of abuse--because it was true. Because he really did. And...for this.
There is a sharp breath out and in inches from his face, the gasp that says the line worked. All Ryan's lines work. And he ignores the memory screaming inside him, and waits, obedient and consummately professional, for the touch that he thinks might finally break him once and for all.