It's not even twenty minutes after fleeing from the Ross residence, and I'm lying on my bed, waiting for my life to just end already. I mean, there hasn't even been a phone call, and I'm thinking this whole waiting/slowly-dying deal is a whole lot worse than what's going to be in store for me later.

I'm thinking it will go two ways, either my mom will come barging into my room, screaming at me for corrupting the pastor's son and ground me for the rest of my life then possibly send me to one of those all boys reform schools (All boys? Hmm. That actually might not be so bad). Or, Pastor George will forbid me from ever seeing Ryan again for the rest of my life (Oh god, it hurts already).

Then, there's the possibility of my mom defending me and she'll use her persuasion powers to convince Pastor George that there is nothing wrong with homosexuality and God loves us no matter what. Then, Ryan and I will get married, adopt ten kids from a third world country (we can be the next Brangelina) and live happily ever after.

Oh, please God, let it be the second option.

Another 2347234727467234 minutes pass (well, in reality it's probably only about ten but it sure as hell doesn't feel like it) and the phone still doesn't ring, and I'm really starting to get a little worried about Ryan. However, just as I'm about to kill myself (no guys, not really) the doorbell rings, and I'm dashing out of my room and down the stairs towards my front door. Now, I'm not even really sure why because if it's Pastor George (which is a great possibility) I really, really, really don't want to have to deal with him right now (or really like, ever look at him ever again. Cause hey, I mean, he heard me fondling and talking dirty to his son. If I didn't already have a place secure in Hell I certainly do now).

Fortunately, when I pull open the door, it's Ryan who's standing there outside on my porch soaking wet and shivering from the rain that finally decided to come down, and his eyes are red and swimming with tears. Okay, so, maybe not so fortunate.

He looks like a wet, lost, little puppy dog and it seriously breaks my heart into a million pieces.

"Hey..." I say softly.

He looks up at the sky, bites down onto his bottom lip and doesn't say anything.

And oh my god, the site makes me want to cry!

So, I don't really have to think twice before I'm wrapping my arms tight around his tiny little frame, and pulling him flush against me and he's soaking wet but I don't even care. He immediately presses his face into my shoulder, and makes a few choking/sniffling noises into my sweater. "He said I wasn't his son," he sobs into my shoulder. "He said -" Hiccup, "He said no son of his was a- a faggot."

"Shh," I whisper into his ear and I pull us back into my house out of the cold and rain, shutting the door behind us with my foot.

"He told me that I was a disgrace to God, and people like me didn't belong in Heaven and that I was going straight to Hell. Then he - " he hiccups again, takes a deep breath, then hiccups once more before continuing, "Then he pulled out the bible and started reading me all these bible verses that he has fucking bookmarked, Brendon. Bookmarked!"

I rub his back, kiss the top of his wet hair, and I wish I could just make it all go away. It literally breaks me to see him hurting like this, and it really makes me realize how much I do care about him. "Shh, it's okay," I murmur into his ear. "He didn't mean it, he was just... he was just shocked that's all." I pull his head up from my shoulder, and wipe the hot tears flowing down his cheeks with my thumbs. "I promise you, Ry. You're still his son, and he still loves you. I know he does. I see the way he looks at you, Ry, he's so proud of you, and he still is. Any father, mother, whatever would kill to have you as a son. Heck, I can bet you a lot of money that my mom would trade me for you any day."

He lets out a small smile, and an even smaller giggle but hey, at least I stopped him from crying even if it was just for a small second. "You're not a disgrace either, you're the farthest from. And you're most definitely not going to Hell, trust me, if you did I can't imagine who would actually get into heaven, I mean, really."

He smiles a little more, and clings onto me tighter.

"And, honestly, I bet God wasn't too happy when he was saying those things to you, either." I peck his nose, then the corner of his lips and say, "It'll be okay, I know it."

He nods his head a little, like he's not sure whether to believe me or not, but I know he really wants to. Heck, I really want to believe me too.

"What's going on?"

Ryan quickly jumps away from me, and I swear he goes like, five feet in the air. He wipes his eyes with his just as wet sleeve, sniffs and stares down at my floor. "Sorry," he mumbles to his shoes, and damn, his face is so red I'm surprised the tears aren't burning off.

My mom ignores his apology, takes a step towards him, concern etched on her face. "Ryan, what's wrong?"

He shakes his head, and keeps his eyes on the ground. "Nothing, I'm okay."

She goes to open her mouth, to most likely prod it out of him with her super special mom powers, but she's cut off by the phone.

I look up at her, and say, "Answer the phone, and you'll see."

She gives me a weird look, stays there for a few more seconds looking us over, as the phone rings in the distance. Finally, she slowly starts to make her way towards the living room to answer the phone.

I move back towards Ryan, wrapping my arm around his waist, as we listen to my mom talk in the distance. "Hi George."

"Yes, yes, he's here." Pause. "No he didn't."

"Here, how about we go upstairs and get you into warm clothes before you catch hypothermia on me, okay?" I suggest.

He nods and sniffs some more. I slide my hand into his as I lead him up the stairs and into my room, even though I'm sure he's been here enough times to get there by himself blindfolded.

He stands at my doorway as I go through my dresser for something for him to wear. He's not so much sobbing uncontrollably anymore, but a few tears still run down his cheeks and he sniffs, and hiccups every few seconds.

I grab him a pair of boxers, and my old Third Eye Blind t-shirt. When I give them to him, we just kind of stand there and stare at them, cause like, what are we suppose to do? We've never been naked in front of each other (well, not completely) so is one of us like, supposed to leave or something?

I mean, I've gotten changed in the same room as Jon many times. It's not like we're looking at each other, or ever together like me and Ryan, or anything at that, but still.

"I guess I'll just... you know, go in here," Ryan finally mumbles under his breath and slinks into my adjoined bathroom, his face red.

And I'm a little disappointed cause I was kind of hoping for a quick peek.

I take a seat at the edge of my bed, and bury my face into my hands. I'm really freaked out here, because what if his dad really doesn't let us see each other anymore? It's not like my mom would ever go against another parent's orders (especially the Pastors) even if they were being unfair. So then, it'd be like, impossible to ever see each other except at school, but that like, doesn't even count (for the obvious reasons of me not being able to rip of his clothes).

Ryan emerges from the bathroom, and his face is still a little red because my clothes are like, hanging off of him. He looks like a little string bean in them, but it's adorable, I have to say. I mean, I'm pretty skinny myself, so it just proves Ryan's like, a walking skeleton.

"Don't laugh," he says, twisting his face into this cute, little pout.

I purse my lips together and shake my head. "Wasn't going to."

He sits down beside me, and gives my arm a little shove. "You suck. I'm self conscious about my weight, you know, and this doesn't exactly make matters any better."

"Aw, but don't be, you're my little string bean," I murmur, and press my lips to his for a quick kiss.

He gives me another little shove, but kisses me anyways. I can feel him smile against my lips, which makes me smile too because I'm obviously doing something right if I made him stop crying.

Not even like, 0.5 seconds later we're interrupted by a soft knock on my doorframe, and my mom clearing her throat. Ryan, once again, jumps like, five feet in the air and another five feet away from me, and I thought his face was red before, but it's got nothing on it now.

"It's okay, Ryan," my moms says. "I don't care."

He nods, slow and almost unsure, but he ever so slowly, begins to inch back over to my side. We look up at my mom, and she looks us over once again before finally, she goes, "Well, I cant say I didn't have an idea about you two."

Ryan blushes even more now back safely in my arms.

I nod. "Yeah, well, I guess we really weren't be all that subtle..."

"Yeah, not really," my mom admits, then smiles. "But A for effort, anyway."

Oh, I love my mom.

"What- What did my dad say?" Ryan asks carefully, almost like he doesn't want to know. Which, I guess, he probably doesn't.

She bites her lip, taps her foot against the wooden floor and says, "He just told me he heard some things from a lady at the church whose daughter goes to school with you guys, and he came home early to talk to you... and well, lets just say you confirmed the rumors."

I look at Ryan, and he's staring to floor, looking like he's about to cry again. Then my mom goes, "You really know how to give the Pastor a heart attack, don't you?"

I chuckle, but apparently Ryan doesn't find this too funny because he buries his face in the palms of his hands and mumbles, "I'm so dead. My dad hates me."

"No, don't say that, Ryan," my mom says. "He's just surprised that's all. Just give him some time to let it sink in."

Ryan snorts, and shakes his head. "Are you kidding me? You've heard his sermons. I'm a disgrace to God. An abomination. I'm disgusting and I'm going to burn in hell." He sniffs, and a few more tears drop from his eyes. "He didn't just say those things because he was surprised, he meant them. There's nothing my dad hates more than... people like me."

"Ryan-"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Urie," he sniffs against my shoulder, "but it's true."

She bites her lip, and looks down at him with sad, sympathetic eyes. I kind of hope she's sympathetic enough to like, adopt him so he can live with me... in my bed. "It'll be okay, Ryan."

He shrugs, and continues to stare down at the floor.

"Your dad was going to come and get you tonight, but I managed to convince him to let you stay here for the night," she explains. "The both of you need to cool down before you get into any life changing conversations."

"Thanks," Ryan says softly, and I send her a grateful smile, because Oh, I've never loved my mom so much.

"However, I told him I'd make sure you slept in two different rooms," she continues, and with that I so totally take my smile back, because um, no me and Ryan are not sleeping in different rooms. "But... I'm feeling rebellious tonight. Shhh."

Okay, grateful, huge, ginormous grin back.

"I just trust you two wont engage in anything inappropriate... especially with mine and your father's room right across the hall. You know how thin these walls are, Brendon."

And, oh god, so apparently I can get as red as Ryan.

"Anyways, I'll leave you two alone for a bit. Maybe take a nap or something, you look like you could use one, Ryan," she says, and just before she closes the door behind her she goes, "You're father should be home soon, Brendon, so I'll come up and let you know when dinners ready."

Once she's gone completely, Ryan turns to me, his mouth hanging open a little. "Did that actually just happen?"

"Um, yeah... I think so..." I say, and honestly, I'm a little surprised myself. I mean, sure, I thought my mom might stand up for me a little against Pastor George's 'your son is going to burn in hell' bit but I didn't think... this. I mean, she's trusting me alone with my boyfriend in my room, on my bed, with the door closed... while lying to the pastor on top of it. Huh.

"What I would give to have your parents."

"Yeah, that was pretty cool of her, I have to admit," I say, and fall down on my back, resting my head against my pillow.

He snorts. "Are you kidding me? That was a little more than cool."

I yawn, then make grabby hands at his waist, pulling him down next me. He giggles, and curls into me, running his finger along my side. "Thanks, Bren," he whispers, and he's so close his breath dances across my lips.

I smile, and press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose before whispering back, "Anytime, Ry."