"We need to be prepared for any attack, we cannot let them make the first move. Either we send in our troops outside of every frontier, ready to breech, or they will win. We cannot be caught off guard."

"They have not given us any reason to suspect they want a war, not now. To keep our country free and safe, we need to stay on our side of the playing field, and we cannot provoke them unnecessarily."

"We are not cowards! If our troops attack first, we will win. Your Majesty, I implore you. Give us permission to send off our troops. This is what we have been training for."

Brendon looked up when the man in the deep green military uniform addressed his father directly. It was the first time that it had happened during the whole two-hour-long-and-still-running conference. He'd been listening intently, his eyes glued to the table in front of him, to every word being said. They were debating on whether or not they wanted to attack DURA, on whether or not to declare war. Brendon had kept his head down for the most part, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Of course, he knew that his country was a rival to DURA, but to declare war? He couldn't imagine why they would want to, not after years of living more-or-less peacefully. Many of his father's councilmen were voting against the war, though the several military men were fighting for it rather loudly. Personally, Brendon didn't think that war was a good idea at all, but what could he say?

He listened through the whole argument. Basically the military didn't want to take any chances, saying that if they attacked first, everything would be fine. The council, however, strongly disagreed, saying that they wanted to keep the peace for as long as it lasted. None of them wanted to put their inhabitants through the ravages of war, which was what would surely happen if the military went through with their plans. His Father let them work it out, not saying a word until the end of the meeting, where he simply bid them farewell and told them that he'd be in touch when he'd made his decision. Brendon shook every one's hands before leaving, as was his duty, and then followed his father to the car that would bring them home.

"What did you think?" his father finally asked when they were sitting in his study in the castle. Brendon licked his lips and shook his head. "I don't think that starting a war would solve anything, or help anyone," he answered firmly, knowing that his father liked people who knew what they wanted and how to say it. His father tilted his head to the side slightly and studied his son for a few moments, unnerving Brendon and making him feel like a child who'd done something wrong.

"And if they decide, in a few months time, to attack us? What then?" he finally asked, one eyebrow raised questioningly. Brendon sighed and sat up straighter. "Then we have troops that have been trained for this specifically, who can defend us. Who are willing to die to defend their country," he said decisively.

"And the people, the children and the mothers, and the common workers who live here, what will happen to them if DURA decides to attack? Is it not better to sacrifice the lives of our enemies instead of our own people? They will be killed by the thousand in their cities and towns if we let DURA have the first move."

"If we attack, and DURA reciprocates, then it would happen in any case."

"Ah, but what if our troops keep them too busy in their own country? After we have diminished their numbers, they would not be able to do much damage..." his father trailed off and sighed. "Think on that, Brendon. I do not want an answer right now, nor do I want you to share your thoughts. When I call you for the next conference, then we may discuss this further. Perhaps after thinking about these questions, these decisions, and hearing what else the military has to say, you will find the right answers."

Brendon, who knew when he was being dismissed, quickly stood, bowed slightly to his father, and then made his way out of the study. He hated that his father had put all of these questions in his head, and that he would no doubt be unable to stop thinking about them. But he also couldn't wait to get back to school.

***

Brendon was in his room, reading the file he'd been giving for the conference. He was sprawled on his bed, one arm behind his head, and then other hand holding the file open. The file was basically agreeing with the military's point of view, saying that attacking was better than waiting it out and being made victims first. But Brendon was more concerned with the fact that, what if they attacked, but DURA had never wanted to start a war? They would be sacrificing lives for absolutely nothing. Sighing, he rolled onto his stomach and looked at the clock. It was 6:30 Sunday evening, and he had arrived from the castle only about an hour ago. He hadn't told anyone about his arrival, but he had informed Ryan before leaving that he would be arriving at this time, and so he really hoped the other boy would get here as quickly as possible. Anything to get Brendon's mind off of these sickening thoughts of war.

Plus, he'd apparently gone brain-dead momentarily and bought Ryan a huge box of chocolates. He had no idea why; he'd just seen the orange box in a window, with it's huge green bow, and he had bought it. And now he had to give it to Ryan, because he surely was not going to eat all that chocolate. It embarrassed him just to think about it, really. What kind of person bought chocolates? It wasn't even a special occasion or anything, apart from the fact that they hadn't seen each other in a week. Brendon sighed and focused on the file again, really hoping that Ryan would come over and soon. The chocolate was probably melting, after all.

***

Somehow, the fact that Ryan had had nothing to report for the last few days had given him a strange sense of relief, slightly loosening the knot of guilt in his stomach that had been building and growing and tightening for he didn't even know how long. And Ryan had always been a sucker for rules, details, and principles. Reports were something that was necessary, not just in his job, but in his life philosophy. It seemed odd that he should suddenly dislike them so. At least he hadn't minded these days when there hadn't been anything to say. But on the other hand, those days had been incredibly boring, filled with classes and homework, keeping even some to make for himself that he could've easily sent back and gotten someone else to make, but it took up time. Of course hanging out with Spencer and Jon had been more fun than he'd expected, and the trip to town they'd made the night before had been surprisingly entertaining. But all along it had really felt like something was missing. Something like the one fourth of the group that was really what kept them together. Well, whatever. It was a job, not some mindless form of entertainment. he wasn't supposed to have fun or not be bored anymore than he had been every day in the office back in NYC before he came here.

Looking down at his watch, away from the math assignment he'd been trying to drag out, he realized it was about the time Brendon had said he'd be back, maybe even later, and the young man felt a smile rising up involuntarily on his face. Well, he supposed a dopey grin wasn't entirely out of character, so he let it stay and got out of his chair, quickly walking across the room, throwing off his pajama pants and finding a pair of jeans in his closet instead. The night out and a few drinks too many the previous night, followed by a dramatic sneaking back into the school at nearly four in the morning had caused all three of them to turn in sick for the day only to meet up at four in the afternoon to dig into Jon's food storage for a belated brunch, not ill at all unless already fading hangovers were counted, and all Ryan could do at the moment was hope he didn't run into a teacher. His being out of his bed and on the way out of his room wouldn't be that easy to explain. He finally threw on a t-shirt and left his feet bare before opening his door, peeking cautiously to both sides before making his way across the hall, giving Zach a sheepish smile and knocking on the door.

Upon hearing the knock on his door, Brendon stashed the file in the drawer of his bedside table, vowing to find a better place to hide it later tonight. He crossed the room and opened the door slowly, peeking out before letting himself grin and opening the door wide. "Long time no see," he teased, taking a hold of Ryan's shirt and dragging him into the room. He kicked the door shut with his foot and had his lips on Ryan's before the door was fully closed. When he pulled back, he took Ryan's hand, lacing their fingers, and dragged to boy to his bed, sitting on the bed and tugging on Ryan's hand to make him sit, as well. "How was your week?" he asked, still sporting a goofy grin. Funny how he was practically itching to give Ryan his 'present' now.

"Not as bad as it could've been," Ryan answered with a small smile, squeezing Brendon's hand. "Spencer and Jon apparently made it their mission for me not to be bored or pine or whatever, but I still did miss you a lot," he added, leaning into Brendon's side. It was what Ryan Hastings would do after all. The fact that the closeness made Ryan Ross feel safe and comfortable didn't have anything to do with it at all. "I'm actually 'ill'," he added, making quotes with his free hand. "So if a teacher comes in here and asks, I'll hide and you just tell him I went down to the kitchen for some tea or something, okay?" He smiled slightly. "I'd ask how your week was, but you probably can't tell or don't want to talk about it, so I won't." The smile fell off his face a little, and he squeezed Brendon's hand again, burrowing a little closer and placing a small kiss on the younger boy's neck. "At least you're back," he finished.

"Yeah, best not talk about my week. Really boring stuff, anyway," he said quietly, then looked down at Ryan and smirked. "Ill, are you? Well, Mr. Hastings, you look perfectly fine to me. Tip top shape, in fact," he chuckled and kissed the top of his boyfriend's head. "Oh, but there was one interesting thing about my week and it's actually..." he got up, letting go of Ryan's hand to go look into his almost completely empty suitcase. He came back with the colourful box of chocolates and handed it to Ryan. "Right here. I don't know what came over me, so no comments. But something about it just screamed "Ryan!" Probably that bow..." he trailed off, laughing as he sat down beside Ryan again and put an arm around the boy's small shoulders. The box was huge, and Brendon had no doubt that it would take a very long time to go through all the chocolates, but if they shared it would probably be alright and only last them a few months. Again, he wondered why he'd bought the gift, but decided that question was best unanswered for now.

Ryan felt something inside him melt, the huge ball of guilt and pity and concern and something less identifiable become tighter and more painful, almost choking him for a moment. "Thank you," he murmured, leaning in to press a small, innocent peck on Brendon's lips, pressing down that knot of emotion that was moving up to become a big painful lump in his throat until he could ignore it. He managed a smile, taking the offered box, and even giggling slightly as the colours registered. "This reminded you of me?" he asked in a teasing voice. "I think that maybe that should be cause enough to evaluate my fashion sense again." He untied the ribbon and opened the box, finding a chocolate and putting it in his own mouth before offering Brendon one with a small smile. Once he was finished chewing and had swallowed, he added an explanation, "And ill, in this case, means hung over and sleep deprived. Yesterday Jon apparently decided it would be really good for all of us to go out and get monumentally pissed."

Brendon took the chocolate from Ryan's fingers with his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and pulling it into his mouth with his tongue. He chewed it slowly, watching Ryan the whole time, and then nodded. "Jon likes getting pissed," he said casually, shrugging a bit. "I've never taken him up on his offer, but he usually looks like he's having fun," he chuckled a bit, remember that the first time he'd really met Jon had been when the other boy had been drinking, and he'd found him hilarious. "Did you have fun, then?" he asked, looking over at Ryan with interest. He looked down at the box of chocolates again and snickered. "Your fashion sense is starting to grow on me, by the way," he said fondly, as an after thought. "So, no worries."

"Yeah, I think I've noticed that about him," Ryan agreed with a slight snicker, shivering a little where it almost felt like Brendon's lips were still around his fingers. "And it was pretty fun. I had no idea so many drinking games existed, though. I knew 'I never...', but the others..." He shook his head slightly. "I didn't even drink that much. I just can't seem to hold my drink very well." He leaned against Brendon's side again, taking another chocolate, this time chewing it slowly to savor the taste. "Mmm..." he let out, closing his eyes briefly. "This is good stuff," he finally stated when his mouth was empty again. "And I'm definitely glad you don't completely hate the clothes, or some things might get a little awkward every once in a while." Not that Ryan liked them himself. But he was getting used to them.

Brendon chuckled and nodded. "Well, I wouldn't buy you disgusting chocolate, would I?" he asked, tightening his arm around Ryan. "Glad you had fun, though. You played 'I never'? Do I want to know what you found out about the other two? Or... what they found out about you?" he scrunched up his nose, not liking that idea in the least. He didn't want Spencer and Jon finding things out about Ryan before he did! He was his boyfriend, after all. He had a right to know things, didn't he? Frowning, Brendon took a white chocolate from the box and stuffed it into his mouth to keep him from saying anything. Jealousy-- or, whatever this was-- was not attractive in the least, or so he'd heard. And Ryan probably wouldn't have revealed anything major. He'd have heard about it, surely. Hopefully.

"Well," he said with a slight frown. "They were kind of ganging up on me, so to get me even more drunk Spencer said 'I've never made out with a guy'. Jon has totally snogged a bloke!" He let out a loud chuckle. "Jon was so angry because Spencer was 'supposed to be on his side', and Spencer was so confused, it was hilarious." He dug his face briefly into Brendon's shoulder, trying to stop the laughter. Finally he pulled his head up. "They both kind of sucked at it, though," he stated. "The point of it is to find out weird things about each other, but that really only happened accidentally. They were totally obvious. 'My brother's never sent me a box of condoms'." He rolled his eyes slightly and stretched slightly to press a peck to Brendon's jawline. "Would've been much more fun if you'd been there, though."

Brendon chuckled rather breathlessly, then hummed in appreciation. "Jon, kissing a guy? Well, then..." he returned Ryan's kisses, obviously not that interested in Jon's antics right this moment. He kissed the boy's neck, burying his hand in his hair so that he could pull Ryan's head back to give himself some room. "Mmmm... you smell good," he muttered, licking a path up Ryan's neck and then promptly attacking his mouth. Brendon pressed one hand against Ryan's chest, letting his fingers drag down, and was startled into completely pulling away when there was a loud knock at the door. Panting, Brendon whipped around to stare at it, his mouth slightly open and wet and red. "Seriously?" he asked, mostly to himself, not expecting an answer. He looked over at Ryan, bewildered, and then slowly got up and crossed the room. "Who is it?" he asked, then groaned when he heard a snicker on the other side, unmistakably Jon's.

"Let us in, Bren. We haven't seen you in days," Jon emphasized, and Brendon could almost hear his pout. Sighing, he looked back at Ryan, making sure the boy had had time to compose himself, and then swung the door open, plastering a smile on his face. Jon hugged him tightly, apparently going for the theatrics, but Spencer's hug was light and friendly, and Brendon couldn't help hugging him back. He closed the door while Jon made himself comfortable on the bed next to Ryan, and then exclaimed, loudly, "Oooh! Chocolate!"

Brendon and Spencer rolled their eyes at the same time.

"Hey!" Ryan exclaimed when the box disappeared from his hands. He felt a pout spread over his face. "That was mine, Jon Walker. Do you want me to start asking question about the snogging-a-boy business?" He narrowed his eyes, making a grab, but wasn't quick enough. Putting the pout back on his face, he stood up from the bed and crossed the room to Brendon's side, leaning against the younger boy again. "Jon's mean," he stated quite simply, still alternately pouting and glaring in the direction of the bed.

"I bought those for Ryan," Brendon told Jon calmly, staring at the boy pointedly. Jon, who had just shoved a chocolate into his mouth, was about to answer when Spencer cut in. "You bought them for Ryan!?" he asked loudly, his face crumpling and making doe eyes at the couple standing a few feet away. "Yes, that's what I just sai--" "That is so cute! Brendon, I didn't know you had it in you..." Spencer trailed off, shaking his head in awe, and making Brendon feel more uncomfortable than ever. And then Jon spoke up.

"I have to say, that is quite romantic," Jon said, before popping a dark chocolate into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. He placed the box on the bed next to him and shrugged. "What's gotten into you?" he asked, brows furrowing. And then, as though Ryan's threat had only just then been processed, he glared at the other boy. "Keep your mouth shut about that," he said, eyes narrowing menacingly. He looked at Brendon when his friend chuckled. "It's not funny," Jon folded his arms across his chest and sulked.

"Nothing's gotten into me," Brendon said after he'd recovered from laughing. He put his arm around Ryan possessively and jut his chin out.

Ryan couldn't hold it in anymore, and burst out laughing, burying his face in Brendon's shoulder again for a moment before peering out. "Who was it anyway?" he asked, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth while he rested into the crook of Brendon's elbow, cocking an eyebrow. After a moment with no answer he moved away a little, gripping Brendon's hand and tugging the younger boy with him over the floor before gently pushing him into the armchair, plopping down on one knee himself just afterwards. He held out a hand. "Chocolate please," he ordered, snickering again half-way through the two words.

Brendon smiled, content to follow Ryan, and then wrapped his arms around the boy's waist and pulled him closer into his lap, resting his chin on his boyfriend's shoulder. He grinned when Spencer gave Ryan, not just one chocolate, but his whole box back, and chuckled when Jon protested. Brendon turned his face into Ryan's neck, inhaling his scent and kissing him a few times, just because. "You guys are getting way too domestic," Jon said with a pout. "And I'm still not telling," he turned his glare on Ryan. Spencer chuckled and shook his head. "I think it's cool," he put in, nodding. "Shows that you guys are comfortable with each other," he added, smiling and sighing happily for his two friends-- for Brendon, in particular. He would have never imagined to see his uptight friend in this position. He was glad that Brendon looked relatively happy, though he knew that the conference with his father couldn't have gone very well or carried much good news.

Leaning back against Brendon's chest in what he hoped looked like complete comfort, even as he pushed away yet another wave of guilt, he picked out a chocolate and turned his head to look at the boy while he held it out in offering, waiting until it was once again nipped out of his fingers before he took one for himself. He finished chewing before he looked away again, raising his eyebrows at the other boys. "Is that jealousy I detect, Walker?" he asked, successfully managing to hold back another snicker before flashing Spencer a - hopefully - happy-looking smile. "And what else did we find out last night?" he asked, humming slightly as he put a thoughtful look on his face, deciding to even things out a little. "Spence, having a crush on your cousin is really not on, you know that, right?"

Spencer scrunched his nose and frowned at Ryan. "I hate you," he mumbled petulantly. "I'm always nice to you, you know," he shook his head at Ryan in mock-disappointment and tutted.

Brendon snickered, kissing Ryan's chin and leaving a smudge of chocolate, which only made him laugh more. Jon made a disgusted sound from his bed and grumbled under his breath for a few seconds about something that Brendon knew he'd probably be offended by if he could hear him. As it was, though, he simply ignored his friend and held onto Ryan tighter, resting his chin on the boy's shoulder and smiling contentedly. "Heard you guys had a pretty fun week," he finally said, composing himself and becoming slightly more serious. He nipped Ryan's earlobe as he waited for an answer from Spencer or Jon, ignoring Jon's current huffing.

"Yep," Spencer smiled proudly, and then it quickly turned into a smirk. "Ryan was all mopey for the first day, and he was really depressing to be around, so we decided to take his mind off of... you." He flashed Ryan a big, innocent, smile as Brendon snickered quietly.

Ryan glared back, wrinkling his nose slightly. "I wasn't that bad," he protested. "At least I got my homework done." He snuggled closer, resting his head on Brendon's shoulder. And really, he'd seen Jon and Spencer all day every day for a week. He could really do without seeing them at the moment. At least he guessed that's what would further his job the most. He took another chocolate, making an exaggerated face of delight before smirking at Jon who had been eyeing the box quite a bit for the last minute before turning his head slightly to peck Brendon's cheek. "So, any other fun little secrets you want to know?" he asked, smiling slightly.

Brendon looked thoughtful for a moment, even going as far as stroking his chin to show he was thinking of something to say. Finally, he smiled widely and nodded. "How do I ask Spencer and Jon to leave without them getting miffed?" he asked, looking extremely proud of himself. He looked over at Spencer and Jon. Jon was still glaring, but Spencer was smiling and shaking his head. He got up, taking Jon's hand and tugging him along. "Alright, alright, we get it," Spencer said, pretending to be exasperated. "I'd swear you too were going at it like bunnies if I didn't know one party extremely well... but with the amount of time you're spending together..." he trailed off and at Brendon's glare, raised his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying," he protested before opening the door and slipping out, Jon on his heels, though he threw one last glance at the couple before leaving.

"Well," Brendon said slowly, shrugging. "I'm a genius," he smiled cheekily.

Ryan threw his head back, letting out a long laugh. "At least you had a stroke of it," he partially agreed with a teasing smile before turning around on Brendon's lap until he had a knee on either side of the younger boy's waist on the wide chair. He didn't say anything else before he dived in, connecting their lips almost a little too hard while his hands came up almost automatically to tangle in Brendon's soft locks, the box of chocolates falling to the floor behind him. Luckily the lid was on, so there wouldn't be a mess. Not that he was really noticing at the moment, what with that velvety, warm tongue tangled with his own and the hard body he was pressed up against. He panted through his nose, eyes fluttering shut as he trailed on hand down Brendon's neck to his back, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly. Something in him was screaming about too many clothes, but he ignored it. Taking too much initiative might still not be the best idea. He was even being a good boy and keeping his weight on his knees rather than sitting down entirely, not that his body was really too fond of that idea. But he did still have some restraint, right?

Brendon moaned in surprise and his arms, which had been wrapped around Ryan, flopped down uselessly at his sides. He pressed harder against Ryan, his head spinning with the force of their kiss. Feeling awkward with his hands doing nothing, Brendon brought them up and pushed them under Ryan's shirt, pressing his hands flat against the small of his back and urging him forward, as close as he could get. He thought briefly of Spencer's comment- 'going at it like bunnies'- and blushed deep red, pulling away to catch his breath before returning to kiss Ryan slowly, savouring it. He could taste the chocolate they'd eaten, and it was even more delicious like this, in his opinion. A wave of arousal crashed over him and he could feel his whole body warming, a faint sheen of sweat forming over his skin. He felt himself growing hard and groaned into his boyfriend's mouth, biting his bottom lip gently before pushing his tongue into Ryan's mouth, his lips moving slow and steady. It was just as good as the intense kisses; different, but he liked it just the same.

Releasing a small groan into Brendon's mouth, Ryan let himself relax into it, small shivers running up and down his spine and through his whole body, originating from Brendon's hands on his bare back, Brendon's soft lips and strong tongue in his mouth, their chests pressed together. He felt like he was going dizzy, very dizzy, almost like he'd had too much to drink, and he didn't really notice himself losing his balance and falling down to sit directly on the younger boy's groin until he hit and a sharp, hot shockwave shot through his. Their mouths dislodged and Ryan felt his own head lolling to one side, his eyes rolling into the back of his head beneath closed lips, and his hands clutched tightly, fighting to stay connected, not to lose grip of... what? He didn't even know what, and at the moment he didn't have the brain capacity to contemplate it. He might not be a teenager anymore, but at the same time it wasn't until recently he'd ever felt like one, and it wasn't like he was experienced at all. Losing his head a little was only natural. And his head didn't seem to be the only thing he'd lost control of, he realized as his hips propelled forward, already building a rhythm. But it felt so fucking good. And it helped the job, of course, his half-dead mind still hurried to supply.

"Fuck," Brendon muttered, gritting his teeth and raising his hips in time to meet Ryan's thrusts. It had been too long since they'd last-- a week was far too long for any teenager to go without this. Throwing his head back, Brendon cursed again, squeezing his eyes shut. This was going to be over far too soon, but it felt too good to slow down. Digging his fingers into Ryan's back, Brendon lifted his head again and half opened his eyes, diving in to suck and lick at Ryan's neck. He was growing rather fond of Ryan's neck. It was smooth and long and tasted salty, but it also smelled delicious-- just like Ryan. It wasn't long at all before his hips were jerking of their own accord and he moaned loudly as he came, opening his eyes so that he could see Ryan, and biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. "Fuck," he said again, breathlessly.

Ryan wasn't at all sure what had changed since the first time they'd done something like this, but something definitely had. He in no way had to will himself to reach the edge. Feeling Brendon's jerks beneath him, and then opening his eyes to see dark, hooded orbs gazing back, nearly black hair rumpled and messy and sweaty, a slack jaw letting out quick, breathless pants, and that flushed face. It almost felt like it hit some perfect chord in him, and then he was shuddering through his own orgasm, fingers gripping so tightly he thought Brendon might get bruises, and his head lolling back once against as he let out an involuntary, almost mewling, sound, head still too light and breath coming in too short. He felt absolutely lax, and had to practically pull himself upright before dropping forward against Brendon's chest. "I really did miss you," he panted out, at a loss of why he was even speaking. It wasn't exactly perfect conversation time. "And not just because of this."

Brendon chuckled between pants, ran a hand through Ryan hair and then kissed the top of his head. "Missed you, too," he murmured, and then closed his eyes with a sigh.

***

It has been agreed to let our capable Military Troops plan an attack however they see fit. His Majesty the King has approved General White's appeal to see the attack on DURA through. Further details will be discussed; only our Military personnel and His Majesty will be included in the decisions of date and time and place.

Brendon couldn't get the words of his father's first councilman out of his mind. They were on repeat, and every time he closed his eyes, he could see the councilman's disappointed eyes, the tightening of his mouth as he was made to say these things that he didn't agree with at all. They had argued a lot today, but Brendon had known that his father had made a decision weeks ago, and that he fully supported the attack. The documents Brendon had been given at the end of the conference explained the need for war, the conflict between his own country and DURA, and what the troops were doing to prepare. Another, smaller, document had a detailed list of the military's weaponry, of their capabilities. It all made Brendon feel sick, really.

He was glad, at least, that his father hadn't asked him many questions. He had been satisfied with Brendon's clipped "I stand behind your decisions, Father," though Brendon knew it was a complete lie. He had left the castle early, saying he needed to concentrate on his studies and exams, and had been sent back to school on Friday night instead of Sunday evening. He spent most of the night reading over the documents, feeling angrier by the page. They were really going to do it. They were preparing their country for war, but only the military would know. And what if the attack back-fired? It was something that Brendon wasn't even sure he wanted to think about.

Sighing, Brendon stapled the documents to a few pages of homework, a short story in the front which he'd answered a few questions on, and some old History pages covering the back. This way, at least, he could carry the document with him without raising any suspicion. Sick of reading, he placed a few schoolbooks over the document and sprawled onto his bed, covering his eyes with one hand. He heard voices outside his room, but knew that it was Zach talking to the extra bodyguard his father had sent with him. His father seemed to think that the end of the year was the time where there was the most danger. Brendon had inwardly scoffed at this, but said nothing.

***

Ryan glared at the screen in front of him. Glared. Hard. Had been doing so for the better part of an hour, but the email still hadn't changed. The computer hadn't even been decent enough to crash under the scrutiny.

Ross, we have been patient. And I must stress the fact that we are pleased with the progress you've made in getting close to the Prince. However, the summer break is hardly a month away, and I don't see your cover working after graduation. We need to see results, a month ago. Get on it, and give us some answers. We can't go to the peace conference in August navigating in the dark, I trust you understand that. I don't care what you have to do, do it, and show me some results.

And his fucking asshole of a director hadn't even bothered to sign it. Throwing shit in an employees face but not owning up to it. Fuck, Ryan couldn't believe he'd ever looked up to that man. Didn't they understand any of it at all? Couldn't they see that he was putting his emotions on the line, his self-image, everything? Didn't they get the fact that he had already fucking made a whore of himself for his country? That he was gagging on lies and that every day was practically a battle to push away conscious thought so that he wouldn't hate himself? And they had the fucking nerve to make the guilt trip double? Well, fuck them too.

Except not really. Ryan was too much of a stickler for rules and loyalty and everything his country was built on, and too much had come to depend on him. Just like the asshole director had reminded him, he couldn't let them go to that conference in the dark, without already knowing what to do and what to say. He didn't want war more than anyone else did, and if there was no choice he certainly didn't want DURA to lose. Which gave him no choice. Except that he didn't know how to go about it, how to get more information. Brendon was a closed book when it came to politics. He clammed up or changed the subject when anything about the council meetings he'd been attending was mentioned. He apparently didn't have the same need to confide in others that normal human beings did, and Ryan was at the end of his rope. His eyes stung, and he angrily fought back the urge to bawl like a fucking kid, but he just didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do!

He took a series of deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down, the way they'd been taught to handle panic attacks at the academy. It was nothing to be ashamed about. It happened to everyone in active duty at some point. It was better to learn how to deal with it than to scoff and be screwed when the situation arose. Except Ryan had kind of scoffed and ignored it. At least he must have picked up just enough, because his breathing was calming again and his vision had cleared of spots.

The situation wasn't nearly as bad as he was making it out to be, after all. There were still options, if only he could think of them. And all in all he had done much better than he had thought possible. He had gone farther with Brendon than he'd ever actually thought he would with someone he didn't love. Or even then. He hadn't exactly expected to ever try out whether his gag reflex still didn't exist, not least because he'd never expected a guy. He'd never expected a lot of the things they'd done. And they did talk as well, seemed to have gotten closer by the day. If only he kept them going like they had been, ever moving forward, and started to somehow fish, inconspicuously somehow. Maybe he could get more out of Brendon if he stopped being too scared to try. After all, Brendon had to trust him at least a little. And hopefully he'd be concerned about his safety as well. If things were heating up, wouldn't Brendon tell him to go back to England? Maybe even that would be enough to satisfy his boss.

It didn't seem like enough to go on, at all, just trusting Brendon to want to keep him safe rather than close, but until he figured something else out it was all he had to go on. He took another deep breath and went for a shower. According to the text from Brendon a few hours ago, he was probably already back, but at the moment Ryan was really too much of a mess to seek him out. A shower and a change of clothes would do wonders. And then he'd go over there.

***

Maybe he should have told his father that he still thought declaring war was a bad idea. Maybe he could have spoken up at the conference. He wondered if his opinions meant anything. He was going to be King, after all. Didn't they have a duty to listen to what he had to say? Didn't he have a vote? Brendon scoffed and shook his head. No, his opinion meant little right now. He was just a prince, someone who wasn't even out of high school yet. They wouldn't have listened to him. This thought, though meant to be comforting, was far from it. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to think about something else. Would Ryan come over soon? He hoped so. Except that thoughts of Ryan brought up more questions. Should he tell the boy? He knew that he wasn't allowed to, but wouldn't it be completely selfish not to at least warn him? These thoughts were the ones that made Brendon's heart truly ache. And he hoped to God that Ryan would be back in England before anything started. Maybe he could convince the boy to go back home, see his parents, while still not letting him know about the war.

Cursing under his breath, Brendon rolled onto his stomach and shoved his face into his pillow. He wanted to wish for better days to come, but that would be lying to himself. Wishful thinking. Complete and utter rubbish. He clenched his hands into fists, breathed into the pillow, counted the seconds ticking by. Maybe Ryan would come soon.

***

Across the hall Ryan was pulling a t-shirt over his head, using his fingers to flatten his hair slightly. He was really getting to the point where a haircut was almost necessary. Rolling his eyes, happy that showers always seemed to have an almost magical ability to calm him down at least a little, he decided to forgo re-doing his makeup and exited his room, locking the door routinely behind him, before he went across the hall and knocked on the door, his heart going into his throat for just a moment when he realized Zach had made a friend and brought him along. He managed to ignore it, though, sending a small smile and otherwise not minding them at all, just like he was used to.

"Come in," Brendon called from his position on the bed, knowing that Zach had a key he could use and that his judgement could be trusted. He wouldn't be opening to door if it was anyone other than Ryan, Spencer or Jon. He heard the sound of a key unlocking before the door creaked open. Without looking up. Brendon held a hand out, obviously asking for the person-- he was pretty sure it was Ryan-- to come closer. "Hi," he muttered, his voice muffled and almost inaudible, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Hey," Ryan answered, crossing the room and sitting down next to Brendon on the bed, his hand instinctively seeking the younger boy's. "Missed you," he added, quite unnecessarily, slowly lowering himself down onto his back and letting his free hand trace hopefully soothingly through Brendon's hair. He might have calmed down a little, but he wasn't sure he was at all in the mood to be comforting someone else. At least he'd already thought up an excuse for if his mood became obvious. "You okay?" he asked after a moment, his fingers catching in the silken tresses as he stretched out.

"Oh yeah," Brendon said sarcastically. "I'm just fucking dandy." He sighed loudly, finally turning his face to the side and out of the pillow. He'd been having trouble breathing, anyway. "Can you not talk, please?" he finally asked, sighing heavily. He pulled Ryan closer to him, letting him know that he wasn't sending him away or rejecting him-- he feared, though, that if Ryan continued talking, everything would just come spilling out. And he couldn't have that happen. It would be disastrous. Or so it had been implied. He turned a bit so that his face was near Ryan's, and tangled his own hand in the boy's hair, kissing the side of his face a few times. He felt guilty and horrible doing it, though. It wouldn't help anything. He sighed again and closed his eyes.

Ryan felt a sliver of concern go through his own mind, letting his hand rub down Brendon's back. Again, he wasn't the best at comforting people, but hopefully he could help even though Brendon might be right in his concerns that speaking wouldn't really help. After all, how could it when none of them could be honest? He turned his face towards Brendon's, squeezing their laced hands, and pressed a gentle kiss against the younger boy's mouth, just slow and sweet and quite innocent, really, mouths barely open and no trace of tongue. He hoped it helped Brendon as much as it was comforting him.

Brendon slowly managed to push everything else to the back of his mind and decided to fully turn his attention on Ryan. He pulled his boyfriend's face closer and pushed his tongue into his mouth, demanding that the kiss progress. Moving slowly, he pulled Ryan so that the boy was half on top of him, and kept urging him closer. The weight was comforting, keeping Brendon balanced. Pulling away, Brendon looked up at Ryan, a slight frown marring his features as he slipped his hands under the boy's shirt and proceeded to lift it, wordlessly telling Ryan that he wanted it off. And now. Letting the boy take care of his own shirt, Brendon then started the awkward mission of divesting of his sweater. He pulled his arms out of the sleeves, then pulled the sweater over his head carefully, throwing it onto the floor. Exhaling a shaky breath, Brendon ran his hands up Ryan's chest before lifting his head and pulling Ryan down for another kiss. He wasn't sure if he wanted what his body was demanding, but his mind kept telling him that maybe it would make things better. And he wasn't about to stop.

Something in Ryan instinctively knew that this was new, different, than what they'd done before, and somewhere in the back of his mind he was panicking, but he pushed it away, mentally telling himself it was progress as he did his best to shut his mind off. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the kiss, and as he felt his body begin to respond he focused on that with all he could. After all, it was telling him that this was incredibly nice, which was a lot better to listen to than his mind. He groaned slightly when Brendon's tongue found an extra sensitive spot in his mouth and seemed to focus on that. Fuck, his goddamn toes were curling! "God," he groaned, pulling away for air for a moment, burying his face in Brendon's neck instead. He found a spot on the collarbone that would normally be covered and locked his mouth over it, alternately licking and sucking.

Brendon opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, letting his hands run over Ryan's back. He moaned softly when Ryan sucked on the skin near his collarbone and slowly pushed his hands down the boy's back and let his fingers slip under the waistband of his pants. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Brendon pressed a kiss into Ryan's hair and mumbled, "can you take these off?" very, very softly. He didn't want to scare his boyfriend away-- hell, he was almost scaring himself away-- but his body was telling him that they were ready for this, that it was time. And maybe his mind, the part that didn't think this was such a good idea, had been shut up by the arousal he felt, by the fact that his cock was getting harder by the second and he didn't think he could stand any longer. Inhaling sharply, he pushed his fingers lower, feeling the swell of Ryan's ass, and closed his eyes as he let out a soft groan. Yes, he definitely wanted this.

Ryan had to force himself not to freeze up or run away when he felt Brendon's questing fingers running over skin that no one had touched since his mom still had to change his diaper, but he couldn't hold back the sharp inhalation against Brendon's skin. He squeezed his eyes so tightly shut that bursts of colour shot across his dark lids, and he took in two deep breaths. He'd already had one panic attack today. Another one was just not on, especially since it would compromise his mission. And of course there was the fact that Brendon had absolutely no clue he wasn't the only virgin in the room. 'Not for long', some ominous voice seemed to whisper in the back of his mind and he fought it down, getting onto his knees and then proceeding off the bed. And then he stood on the floor, feeling more awkward than he ever had before, trying his very best to keep his fingers from shaking as they started to work the buckle of his belt. Luckily he was still young enough that erections came easily and persisted through almost anything, because this would so not work if he stripped only to have Brendon find him not hard at all. He took a deep breath, not letting himself think about the fact that the other boy was watching him, and got the buckle opened, a deep blush spreading over his face no matter how much he tried to conceal it. Next he worked the button and zipper undone and pulled both jeans and briefs down before he could let himself think about it. And then he stood there, awkward and erect and blushing ten different shades of red and purple, pants pooling around his ankles with not a clue what to do with himself and fighting with everything he had not to try to conceal himself.

Brendon lifted himself up onto his elbows, watching as Ryan slowly took off his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. His breath catching, he quickly sat up, coming almost face-to-groin with Ryan, and looked up at the boy briefly before letting his gaze flick back to his hands, which were now pushing down those jeans. He licked his lips, staring for a second before putting his hands on Ryan's hips and pulling him forward slightly to place a kiss on his stomach. Taking a deep breath, Brendon stood, feeling it only fair that he get himself undressed, as well. Staring at Ryan's face, Brendon worked his pants open rather quickly, pushing them down and letting them fall to the floor before kicking them away. He got rid of his boxers just as quickly, not sparing a glance at himself, instead letting his eyes roam down Ryan's body. Fighting the urge to wrap his arms around himself, he took one step closer to Ryan and leaned in to kiss him again, slowly pushing his tongue between those lips and almost desperately bringing his hands up to grip the boy's shoulders. He had no idea what to do next. Kissing was good, though. Kissing he could do.

Keeping himself from shivering was beyond difficult, but he managed to get himself to step entirely into Brendon's arms, leaning against his firm, if a little bony chest. At least that was familiar. It felt safe, and he almost didn't have to think about the fact that they were both stark naked like this. He settled his hands on the middle of Brendon's back stroking small circles mostly to calm himself down as he leaned into the kiss, opening up and silently offering whatever it was Brendon wanted. But at the same time he was remembering that he was supposed to be the experienced one, even if all his experience came from that book Tobias had sent, read with one eye closed and the other barely half-open, and that, really, he was probably expected to move this forward. But he still felt so awkward and he didn't know where to go from here and- He shut down his own protests harshly, reminding himself of the job and to think rationally. It was probably the lack of air that did it, and so he pulled out of the kiss again, once more finding his face buried in Brendon's neck as he sucked in another area, feeling a little more controlled already. Brendon should probably be the one to... after all, the younger boy probably didn't feel ready for bottoming, and Ryan didn't really know if he were up for taking charge with the coiled ball of so many things he couldn't even identify them anymore seeming to have nearly grown out of his stomach, and his hands shaking and... And well, then it wasn't a whole lot more complicated than plug A into slot B, right? Right. He took another deep breath and pulled away, walking back to the bed and lying down on his back, holding his hand out for Brendon. "You still have the massage oils in here, right?" he asked, his voice breathy and shaky, and he coughed slightly to clear it. Stupid, stupid. With all the lube and condoms back in his own room, and here they were... He didn't really feel like running through the hall without wearing so much as a pair of boxers.

Brendon let his hands fall away when Ryan stepped away from him and watched as the other boy lay on his bed. He let his eyes slide down Ryan's body, staring at the other's boy's erection, unabashed, and then looking at his own. Well. He started at Ryan's voice, looking up quickly and feeling his face heat. "Uh... yeah," he said, scratching his head and looking around. Apparently he'd gone dumb in the last few seconds. "Yeah..." he walked over to his closet and opened the door, squatting down and reaching into the back for one of the bottles. Pulling it out, he scrunched his nose and shook his head. He didn't want to have sex smelling like chocolate. He reached in again, this time pulling out the coconut scented oil. He remembered it being the weakest of the scented oils and so closed the door and brought it back with him to the bed. He knelt on the bed, right next to Ryan's legs, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. And now came the part where he had no clue what to do. He could imagine what he had to do, of course, but he'd never actually, physically, done it. Inhaling shakily, he looked down at Ryan with questioning eyes. "You're going to have to help me," he admitted. "I, uh-- don't really know... what to do here. I mean-- I can guess... and I've probably got a pretty good idea, but--" he cut himself off before he could stammer any more and shrugged sheepishly. He leaned down to kiss Ryan soothingly. "I don't want to screw this up," he mumbled into Ryan's lips, nipping them gently.

Ryan shuddered, sucking in a deep breath through his nose, his hand wandering to Brendon's hair for a moment. They should just stay with the kissing, and some frotting or hand jobs or even another blow job. That had in no way been anywhere close to as frightening as this was. He closed his eyes tight for a moment, though, and opened them again with more composure, breaking the kiss and sending Brendon a smile that he hoped was reassuring. "You won't," he muttered, putting more confidence into his voice than he was actually feeling. "Just..." he started, grimacing slightly and taking another deep breath before forcing himself to spread his knees and bending them until his feet were flat on the covers. "Put the oil on your fingers," he instructed, taking another breath. "And then put one in me. I'll tell you when you can put in more." And he felt so incredibly vulgar actually saying stuff like this out loud, but what choice did he have? At least he felt he could trust Brendon to be nervous enough that he'd be careful not to make it hurt too much.

"Alright," Brendon nodded, then shook his head, frowning, before nodding again. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, opening the bottle of oil and pouring some onto his fingers. He poured more than he thought necessary-- better to be over the top than under, right now. Looking down between Ryan's legs, he frowned slightly again and gestured towards his ass. "In there?" he asked, scrunching his nose a bit. "I mean... my fingers, and-- it just seems a little odd," he muttered, mostly talking to himself. It did seem odd, to be putting his fingers into someone's ass. Not sanitary and such. But surely Ryan wouldn't be-- No. He would just do this. Plenty of gay men had done it, so there must be something special about it. Shuffling over a bit so that he was now kneeling between Ryan's legs, he sat back on his heels and guided his hand forward. He brushed his thumb over Ryan's balls, then down to the crease of his ass. Without giving himself time to really think about it, Brendon pushed his finger inside Ryan's hole, just so, and then looked up at the boy, his eyes almost comically wide. "Oh, my God," he whispered, seeming almost horrified with himself. "Did that hurt?" He imagined it would. The hole was tiny, if nothing else.

"No," Ryan grunted, his eyes closing. And maybe it had, initially, but it had just been a small pang and it was gone now. He wished he could say the same about Brendon's rambling. The other boy seemed to be doing his very best to make Ryan even more nervous than he'd already been. As a result, he was pretty damn frightened by now and had to relentlessly fight his muscles to get them to just relax. Surely it wouldn't hurt as much then, would it? He hoped not. "Don't... keep it still," he instructed, hoping he wasn't giving out bad advice. Well, if he was, at least he would be the one to pay for it himself. "Move around, try to stretch a little before the next finger," he added, still keeping his eyes closed. He kind of really didn't want to look down and see what was actually going on. Feeling it was creepy enough.

Brendon nodded absently and bit his lip in concentration, slowly moving his finger further inside. He took a deep breath before pulling it out again and pushing it back in almost immediately, his eyes flicking between Ryan's face and his finger every few seconds. He twisted his wrist a bit, moving his finger around as much as he could within the restrictions. It felt odd. His finger was enveloped by warmth, but he was still very aware that he had stuck it into someone's body. Brendon shivered and looked up at Ryan as he pushed his finger in as far as he could. "Should I put another?" he asked quietly. He didn't want to do anything without Ryan saying it was okay; it was, after all, his ass on the line. He leaned forward a bit and kissed the inside of Ryan's thigh, hoping to help him relax.

Ryan let out another shuddering breath, trying to get in tune with his body enough that he'd be able to sense what he could and couldn't take. He just felt more than a little detached at the moment, was all. "Yeah," he finally muttered, finally feeling like he was starting to get used to the foreign, invasive sensation a little. "Just... careful, all right?" He opened his eyes for a moment and waited until Brendon looked up to flash him a small, reassuring smile. He contemplated saying something about how it had been a while or something, but he got the feeling that it would kind of really ruin the mood, so he kept his mouth shut, at a loss for anything to say. "You're doing well, though," he finally settled on, deciding that he really couldn't go that wrong with reassurance.

Brendon took his finger out, then tried to get two into that hole. Frowning, he leaned forward a bit and peered down, trying to force both of his fingers to fit, but-- "It's not really..." he trailed off, shaking his head. He inserted his middle finger first, working it in and out a few times, and pushed his index finger in alongside of it, cringing slightly. He let out a relieved breath when they both slid in, though it was a tight fit. He worked both of them back and forth, twisting his wrist every few seconds. Looking up, he came face to face with Ryan's cock and, in the spur of the moment, leaned forward and ran his lips over the head, hoping to make this a bit more pleasurable. He looked up at Ryan, then, his mouth ready to close over the crown of his cock, asking for permission, even as he kept his fingers moving. Unreal really was the perfect word to describe the situation.

Pangs of pain seemed to be shooting up and down his spine, and Ryan was back to forcing deep, regular breaths again. And then there were lips on his cock and even with the pain it was all he could do to keep his hips from jerking. He gave a small nod before letting his head fall back again, one hand moving up from his side to tangle in Brendon's hair as the pain faded to an odd mingling of pain and pleasure, which was surprisingly arousing. He didn't notice the fingers up his ass nearly as much anymore, and not in as uncomfortable a way as before. It was oddly like some kind of an internal massage, really, especially since the fit didn't feel nearly as tight anymore now as it had a few moments earlier. "Stretch," he grunted out. "Move your fingers."

Brendon sucked Ryan's cock into his mouth, his tongue lapping at the underside as he made himself take as much as he could. Swallowing around the shaft, he relaxed his throat even as he did as Ryan told him, moving his fingers relentlessly. Closing his eyes, Brendon moved his head up and down, groaning and feeling it vibrate in his throat. When he pulled back, he licked the head, teasing the slit, before moving away fully. Maybe if he made Ryan come now he would be relaxed enough that when Brendon finally pushed into him, it wouldn't hurt as much. With this in mind, he doubled his efforts on giving a good blow job, though he was unpractised, and kept his fingers moving. So it was sloppy and he made a lot of wet sounds with his mouth; by the way Ryan's fingers kept tightening in his hair, he thought he was doing a fairly good job. At least he knew not to use his teeth. He pushed his fingers further, hoping to reach that thing he'd been told about-- (okay, so he'd researched it a few months ago)-- the prostate.

The warm, wet friction of Brendon's mouth wrapped around his cock had practically taken his mind off the fingers up his ass entirely, but when suddenly an electric shock of pure pleasure pulsed through him from the region exactly, he was violently, but not at all unpleasantly, ripped back to awareness about it. His hips bucked up with a mind of their own, then surged back down before he could choke Brendon entirely, his body suddenly attempting to get closer, closer to that source of pleasure. The fingers didn't even feel that strange anymore, almost as though his muscles seemed to have accepted it, and he realized with an embarrassed start that he was moving, just a little, up and down the fingers, trying to create more friction, trying to get a repeat of that sensation. "Do that again," he groaned out breathily, his breath coming in short pants. "And you know, another finger's probably okay."

Brendon, who had absolutely no idea exactly what he'd done, simply added another finger-- with only a bit of difficulty-- and then stretched them as far as they could go while still moving them in, but not so much out. He pulled his mouth off Ryan's cock, and instead brought his free hand up to take the hard organ and stroke it, firmly and softly all at the same time, with just a twist of his wrist, exactly the way he'd want it. Leaning forward awkwardly, he could just reach Ryan's mouth to give him a forceful kiss. It was sloppy, and he was panting too much for no reason, but making Ryan feel good, hearing him moan, was sending thrills through his body, like tiny little electrical shocks. He felt like he was going to explode.

Ryan reached out a hand and grabbed around for the tube of massage oil, because, honestly, if it was going to happen, it had to happen now, before he could work himself towards another panic attack. And then his fingers finally connected with the bottle, and he awkwardly unscrewed the lid with one hand, somehow managing to pour some out on his hand without getting it all over the whole bed. Then he pushed the bottle away again and reached in between their bodies and found Brendon's cock, starting to stroke it while he liberally spread the oil over it as well as he could while he was as preoccupied as Brendon was making him at the moment. Working between arching and moaning and gasping wasn't all that easy, but luckily, he managed to multitask. Finally satisfied with his handiwork, he pulled his hand away, reaching down to gently pull Brendon's fingers out of him. Then he broke the kiss, hardly noticing the small string of spittle that took a few seconds to burst. He met Brendon's deep, dark eyes with a serious look. "If you're sure about this, now's... really good," he finally stated, his voice breaking a little half-way through the sentence as Brendon's hand on his cock kept doing way too wonderful things to him.

Brendon's breath caught and he nodded moving away from Ryan and looking down at him. "Uh... how do you...?" he trailed off and licked his lips, looking for the right words. He shook his head at himself before grabbing Ryan's hips with one hand and his own cock with the other. Slowly, he guided himself into Ryan's asshole, and if he'd thought that fingers were hard, then this was damn near impossible. Clenching his teeth, he looked down as he let the hand on Ryan's hips reach out and grab his thigh instead, forcing him to raise his legs and tuck them against his chest. Keeping his hand in place to help, he took a deep breath and pushed in, closing his eyes when the head of his cock slipped past the ring of muscles, "Fu-uck," he moaned through clenched teeth, then let his mouth fall open. He opened them briefly to look at Ryan, wanting to know right away if the boy was experiencing any pain. The pleasure he felt, though, was enough to have his eyes fluttering shut every few seconds. To distract himself a bit, he placed Ryan's calves on his shoulders and leaned forward, looming over his boyfriend. He really wanted to ask if he could move now, but he was out of breath, and it seemed that sex robbed him of his ability to speak.

The pain was unlike any Ryan had ever felt before, somehow sharp and blunt all at the same time. The sharpness faded quickly, but the blunt pain lingered, forcing him to screw his eyes shut over their stinging while his jaw working silently. He was trembling, but when he placed his hands on Brendon's back for some kind of support, he realized the younger boy was shaking just as much, though probably for a completely different reason. He still ran his hands up and down, fingers drawing systemless patterns while he tried his hardest to relax. "Just give me a sec," he managed, sucking in a deep breath while he hoped to God that the pain would fade soon. Otherwise he'd really, really have to put a stop to this, and that would let Brendon know that he wasn't actually as experienced as he'd let everyone believe. And if one lie unravelled, the others would follow and he'd be done for. Not that those thoughts were actually helping him relax, so he pushed them away, concentrating on his breathing, on Brendon's breath on his face, the soft, smooth, slightly perspiring skin under his fingertips. And a few moments later it didn't feel so bad anymore, and he peeled his eyes open, looking up at the other boy and letting his mouth form a soft smile. "Okay," he muttered. "Go ahead."

On Ryan's go ahead, Brendon slowly pushed his hips forward, the pleasure agonizing simply because he was going so slowly. He let out a choked moan and shut his eyes tightly, brows furrowed, and his mouth working soundlessly. He pulled out with a deep, pained breath, then let his hips snap forward again. "Oh, fuck," he cried, louder than he had wanted to. He didn't want to think about who could hear this outside of his room. Best keep quiet if he wanted to see tomorrow. Inhaling shakily, he peeled his eyes open and forced himself to set a slower pace to his thrusts, his strokes deep and long. He leaned forward to kiss Ryan, his chest pressing against the boy's thighs, and sucked on his bottom lip. He'd never felt so good in his life. Why had he waited to do this? He knew the actual answer to that, but the less logical part of his brain was telling him that he'd been waiting for Ryan. He moaned again, quietly this time, and pulled back for some air. He looked down their bodies, at his thrusting hips, and forced a shaky hand down to grip Ryan's cock. Wouldn't be very nice to forget all about him. His technique left a lot to be desired right now, that was for sure, but he hoped that it wasn't as bad as he thought it was.

After the pain had mostly died away, it was really nice enough. Still kind of like an internal massage. Pleasant, but not really that special but for the intimacy of it. Brendon was obviously enjoying it, though, so it was probably worth it, even if he was kind of jealous about the fact that the younger boy seemed to be getting about ten times more out of it than he did. The kiss was good, though. Their kisses always were. But then, suddenly, a hand enveloped in cock and at the same time Brendon seemed to shift the angle a little to give himself more room, and that did it. In less than five seconds it had gone from 'nice enough' to 'fucking spectacular!' and Ryan found himself biting down on Brendon's lip, hard enough that he thought he tasted blood, to keep from screaming with it. Pleasure seemed to singe through him, setting the blood in his veins on fire, and he was gasping for breath again, though for a completely different reason. He was suddenly understanding why it was that people were so crazy about this, even as his mind seemed to shut down, too over-sensitised to keep up while his body tried to thrust his cock farther into Brendon's hand and drive his partner's dick in farther and harder all at the same time. He was definitely not going to last long like this. "Oh, fuck, good," he babbled into Brendon's mouth, a hair's breadth away from losing his accent but managing to hold on with the tips of his fingers. "Fuck," he repeated before deepening the kiss, thrusting his tongue up nearly violently while his fingers gripped harshly at Brendon's back. And only a few moments later of the double attention had him coming harder than he thought he ever had before, shuddering through the waves as his whole body seemed to clench up, nails digging in, and he thought he might be biting Brendon again, but he wasn't really sure at all. He thought he even blacked out for a moment, but couldn't really tell, only gave another one of his dopey post orgasmic grins as he kept hanging on, waiting for Brendon to finish.

Seeing Ryan actually start to enjoy the sex-- more than enjoy, actually-- made Brendon deliriously happy. His thrusts were much faster, now, and when Ryan came he gave up all propriety and gave into the quick and short thrusts that felt so good. It wasn't long after that he was coming, his hips jerking violently against Ryan. He threw his head back, only now tuning into the sound of skin smacking together that filled the room. Once he was done coming jerkily, he let himself fall onto Ryan, dislodging the boy's legs on his shoulders. "Holy fuck," he said breathlessly, kissing Ryan's shoulder. He laid there a few seconds before rolling over so that he wasn't crushing his boyfriend, and taking Ryan's hand in his. He'd never felt more alive than he did right now, though he also felt very sleepy. He curled into Ryan's side, even now trying to control his spastic breathing, and hummed lightly. "Are you going to leave, now?" he mumbled sleepily, opening one of his eyes to peer over at Ryan. Perhaps not the best thing to say, but he wasn't about to say something as cheesy as 'was that as good for you as it was for me?' or profess undying love. That would definitely not be the right thing to do.

"Not unless you want me to," Ryan stated, moving closer and throwing a lazy arm over Brendon's damp chest, their legs tangling together. His eyelids were drooping and he really didn't feel like going anywhere. And he really had to be the biggest damn cuddler this side of the Atlantic, but it felt good, and he had a feeling that it wouldn't be long before he didn't feel good at all, so he was definitely not going to deny himself this unless he was actually kicked out. He rested his head on one of the younger boy's shoulders, letting out a whoosh of air, trying not to thing about the sticky fluids slowly dribbling out of his ass. It was like there were so many things to say, but nothing that really could or should be said, and so he settled on nothing at all, just closing his eyes and letting relaxation overtake him. At least things weren't going awkward.

"No," Brendon mumbled, smiling slightly. "Stay." And he was out like a light.

***

Ryan had hardly gotten an hour's sleep before he woke up again, his mind instantly whirling, and he knew that the fact that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again was the least of his problems. The coil in his stomach had spread to his throat and felt like it was strangling, and he felt shitty and miserable. He couldn't believe his first time had been with someone who didn't actually know him, just a bunch of lies that formed a made up person. But the fact of the matter was that even though Brendon had had sex with his imaginary boyfriend, Ryan had had sex too, and swirling through his heart and mind and gut was a nauseating mixture of guilt and shame and regret. This wasn't how it was supposed to have been for either of them! It wasn't fucking fair. But when was life ever fair anyway. He took a deep breath, and, fuck, it actually felt like he really was going be to ill.

He carefully untangled their legs and manoeuvred out from the nest of blankets they had somehow ended up under even though he remembered being on top of them when he fell asleep. He needed to stop thinking, immediately. Thinking about this wasn't doing him any good. He just needed to get the assignment over with and then he could go home and work through what damage it had all done. Now was just not the right time.

Taking another deep breath, he sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed and feeling the bare soles connect with the cool floor. It actually seemed to help a bit. Grounded him, almost. He suppressed a sigh and looked around for something to distract himself with. The thoughts were more persistent than usual, and he knew he needed something to replace them with before they'd agree to go away. Silently, he made his way to his jeans and fished his cell phone out of the side pocket, turning on the soft light it gave before looking around the room.

There were a few books scattered on the coffee table, but he doubted he'd be able to concentrate on actual literature. His eyes wandered on to the desk where a stack of school books lay, a few papers placed neatly on top of it. Well, he could read Brendon's homework, couldn't he? Correct it a bit, maybe. They'd laugh about it the following morning although Brendon would be one big pout for hours. Having made his decision, he sat down and started to leaf through the papers, when suddenly something jumped out at him, and he blinked against the weak light his phone emitted. The Royal Beauregian Emblem. The first lines jumped out at him, and suddenly he knew that the assignment was done. He'd somehow actually succeeded.

It has been agreed to let our capable Military Troops plan an attack however they see fit. His Majesty the King has approved General White's appeal to see the attack on DURA through. Further details will be discussed; only our Military personnel and His Majesty will be included in the decisions of date and time and place.