Jon and Spencer decided to come out on a Monday.

I can barely make it three feet down the hall without hearing about it. It's all, 'oh my god, did you hear? Spencer Smith's gay', 'Oh my god, Spencer Smith is dating a guy', 'Oh my god, Spencer Smith is going to hell", 'Oh my god, Spencer Smith can't have my babies.' and my favorite, 'Who the fuck is Jon Walker?'.

Spencer, naturally gets shunned from his old, bible-thumping friends - Dayna included - but, honestly, I don't really think he's all that affected. He's still too busy eye-fucking the hell out of Jon to really pay much attention.

At lunch, Spencer takes a seat at his normal place across from me and beside Jon, and he greets me with a short nod, then a kiss to Jon.

The cafeteria roars with chatter. I think I even see someone pull out a camera.

Three tables over Ryan's sitting with Dayna, and I can't say I'm really surprised.

I suck in my breath and dig my fingernails into my palm, then I look over at Spencer and Jon being all lovey-dovey and cutesy for everyone to see.

They pull apart long enough to look over at Ryan and Dayna, then back to me, before sending me a rather sympathetic look each. "Ryan will come around," Spencer says, and it looks like he's deciding whether to get up and give me a hug or not.

He doesn't, and I'm happy about that.

"Yeah, okay." I mumble, 'cause I'm really sort of starting to doubt that will ever happen. At least, I really don't think we'll ever get to where Spencer and Jon are.

Somewhere, deep down, I'm starting to believe that maybe- maybe choosing him wasn't the best choice.

---

It's about eight o' clock that night, and I'm lying on my bed, bored out of my mind while flipping through channels on my TV, 'cause Monday night television totally sucks balls.

I'm on my like, hundredth round of going through the channels when there's a soft, timid knock on my door. I don't have to ask to know that it's Ryan.

To be honest, I'm still kind of really pissed off at him for spending the whole lunch making out with Dayna, because it's not even her day and Wednesdays are bad enough as it is. But, regardless, I still mumble, "Come in," because it is Ryan, remember.

Sure enough, he's the one to come sliding in with this sheepish look on his face. He slowly closes the door behind him, and I watch as he locks it, and damn, the boy's got nerve.

We stare at each other for a few seconds, and I can tell by the guilty look on his face that he knows I'm ticked off at him. I have to give it to him, at least he's smart enough to know that. He usually doesn't catch onto that kind of stuff.

Eventually, I get sick of staring at his sorry face, and lull my head back towards the TV and say, "If you came here to make-out, I'm not in the mood."

He sighs and makes his way over to my bed. "I'm not," he says, and sits down at the edge of my bed.

I don't reply, and stop on an infomercial for pro-activ that plays like, every five minutes, it seems. I run my hand across my face, because my face is slowly turning into a walking pizza. Because, yeah, God does hate me and decided to make me go through puberty like, three years after everyone else. I'm seventeen, God, seventeen! Why must you do this to me?

Jessica Simpson suddenly appears on screen, and I think, Damnit, if it works for Jessica Simpson, it can work for me!

"Look, Bren," Ryan starts, and whoa, I was so involved in my pimple face problem I almost forgot he was there. "I'm sorry. I..."

"I what?"

"I don't know." He sighs, and shakes his head. "I don't. I'm just..."

"Confused, right?" I ask, and yeah, it came out so bitter.

"Yeah..." he mumbles, and rubs behind his ear. "Look... it was just, it was weird, Spencer coming out and all. I mean, it came out of nowhere, I didn't even know he was planning on it, like at all. He never mentioned it. I mean, I found out by some stupid grade nines talking about it."

"And you didn't want to eat with the three fags, right? Especially when two are paired off and we've all of a sudden been hanging out? It's too obvious, right? It might ruin your perfect image. Don't worry, Ryan, I completely understand."

"Brendon..." he says, and he sounds tired.

Yeah, well, so am I. I'm tired of being Ryan's little secret. His little side toy to Dayna, the one no one knows about. I'm tired of being the one he's ashamed of.

I never once had that problem with Ethan. He showed me off like I was fucking gold, and what do I get with Ryan? Secret make out sessions in my room? Whoop-de-fucking-do.

We say nothing for a long time, and in a way I really just want Ryan to get up and leave me alone. But then, in another way I want him to stay and watch infomercials with me all night.

I want him to hold me, and kiss me. I want him to break up with Dayna, and come out to the whole school. I want him to tell me he loves me.

The Pro-activ infomercial comes on for the second time, and I go, "I've been thinking about getting that, what do you think?"

He looks at me like I've grown a second head, but I really don't blame him because that was really out of nowhere and just a second ago I was really ticked off at him. "Proactiv? Why?"

"Are you kidding me? Look at my face."

"I don't see anything wrong with it," he says and shrugs, then studies me a little closer in the dim light. "I happen to be quite fond of it actually."

My heart melts inside my chest, and of course, it's only Ryan who can make go from being ticked off and wanting to end whatever it is we have, to wanting to hug him and kiss him and just devour him in a matter of minutes.

"My face could be a spokesperson for Pizza Hut," I say, and yeah, I'm totally not being dramatic either.

"Shut up, I can't even see a single zit on your face."

"Whatever, you're just trying to make me feel better, but I can see through your lies, Ryan Ross."

He smiles, and I smile back and every ounce of anger I had for him today is just completely melting away. He's got like, these magic powers or something I tell you.

He crawls over to me, slowly, like he's not too sure if I'm still mad at him or not, but then just falls down beside me and presses a soft kiss to my lips. "I'm sorry." he whispers as he plays with the hem of my shirt, and his fingers brush along my skin.

And damnit, Ryan Ross: 1 Brendon Urie: 0.

He leans forward and kisses me again, and how did I not know this was going to happen?

Five minutes pass, and we're pretty into it already. And, my hand has officially gone the furthest up it's shirt it has ever been. It's only at his ribcage, but seriously, just a few more inches and I'd be at his nipple. His nipple! Oh God, listen to me. This is so sad, I'm like a prepubescent, straight thirteen year old who just found his dads stash of porn. I mean, come on! I've never been excited over a freaking nipple before.

I mean, really though, before this the farthest he'd let me go is like, an inch up his shirt, which is retarded because it's not like he has tits or anything. But then again, I do get to run my fingertips over those amazingly sexy hipbones of his. Which is like, 8578374583457843 times better than boobs any day. Obviously.

Oh, the things Ryan Ross does to me.

So anyways, he's totally purring and I'm thinking, yeah, well if you're like this with my hand on your freaking ribs, I can't even imagine what you're going to be like when we do anything sexual (if you ever let me, that is).

Of course, that's when my mom has to go and knock on my door and ruin our fun.

I whine under my breath, send a pout to Ryan before getting up to unlock my door. Then my mom just kind of stands there and looks around my room, then over to my TV showing Jessica Simspon then over to Ryan, with this confused look on her face. And it doesn't help that we're still kind of out of breath. "Can I ask why you guys are sitting in the dark?"

Oh, yeah, right.

"'Cause we're vampires, mwahahahaha."

Mom and Ryan both turn to stare at me, and they're all like, what the fuck, Brendon?

And I'm all like, yeah, well, whatever. You're just jealous.

"Um... right, okay," my mom says slowly, but hey, at least she forgot about the fact that me and Ryan were awkwardly sitting on my bed in the dark with the door locked. "Well, Ryan I'm just making sure you realize the time, because I'm guessing you don't want another incident like before, now do you?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess not. Thanks, Mrs. Urie," he says, and slides off my bed onto his feet.

I cry inside cause I don't want him to leave... ever, and I'm really contemplating getting up and tying him to my bed.

Oooh, and the things I could do to him.

"See you later, Brendon," Ryan says all casually as he passes by me, but I can so tell that he really means, have my babies, Brendon Urie. Well, or at least I can hope.

"Yeah, bye." And that totally means, I will so have your babies, Ryan Ross.

He smiles, and disappears down the hallway out of my sight. My mom gives me one last odd look, turns on my light switches and follows Ryan down the hall.