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  <title>pain. i like it rough</title>
  <subtitle>newerections</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>newerections</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2011-07-23T19:50:02Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="12271297" username="newerections" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:10939</id>
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    <title>Oxygen: Gone</title>
    <published>2011-07-23T19:37:42Z</published>
    <updated>2011-07-23T19:50:02Z</updated>
    <category term="slash_100"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <content type="html">It's &lt;b&gt;OFFICIAL&lt;/b&gt; . I'm back from the dead &amp;|. with a new story, too ! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Oxygen: Gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; me, &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; PG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Prompt:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; 025. Accident @ &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-C     "  data-ljuser="slash_100" lj:user="slash_100" &gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.png?v=556&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;slash_100&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan/Pete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; An argument leads to tragedy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; It's a fairy tale. Mmhmmm, make believe, like Peter Pan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Oxygen: Gone&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan paced back and forth in his kitchen anxiously. It was past two in the morning and he was on his third cup of coffee. He’d been waiting up for Pete since he had stormed out of the apartment just hours earlier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had had a heated argument over something rather silly, now that Ryan thought about it. Fights weren’t uncommon, but Pete had never been gone this long without at least giving Ryan a phone call, even if it were just to say he was still mad and not coming home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’d called everyone, his friends and Pete’s; no one had heard from him or seen him. As the hours passed by, Ryan’s worry grew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where could he be? Had he made him that angry to not return home ? Ryan’s heart raced. All he wanted to do now was apologize for the nasty things he’d said to Pete before he left the apartment. He hoped Pete didn’t hate him. He just wanted him to come home soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Peter, baby, I love you. I’m so sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. You’re the greatest boyfriend I’ve ever had. Please forgive me . Come home soon, Pete.” It was the fifth message that Ryan had left on Peter’s cell phone. He must have turned his phone off in  anger for all of Ryan’s calls went straight to his voicemail box. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a sigh of resignation, Ryan laid down on the couch in the front room, hoping he’d hear the door creak open in the next few hours when Pete came back home. Ryan dozed off after a short while, thoughts of hugging Pete again on his mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loud knocks on the front door woke Ryan from his short slumber just a few hours later. Ryan rose from the couch groggily, and glanced at the clock on the stove . 4:35. Maybe Pete had left his key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan opened the front door. Two police officers stood out in the hallway , solemn expressions on their face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Are you Ryan Ross?” One asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes.” Ryan answered in confusion. Why were the cops at his door this early in the morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Your friend Peter Wentz…” The officer started. He extended his hand, palm up to Ryan, revealing the gold locket Ryan had given Peter the day of their first anniversary. “There’s been an accident..”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;author's note: first story in Y E A R S  . definitely in need of feedback ! hope you all enjoyed.&lt;/b&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:10655</id>
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    <title>Oh My ...</title>
    <published>2009-08-29T14:37:09Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-29T14:37:09Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Oh em jay , it's been over two years since I've updated or written anything :-( . I'm making a comeback though , even with my busy senior year . I'll be re-writing "Never Knew You Were So Much Fun" and finishing "Anonymous" as well as writing new things . I missed my slash so much !</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:10465</id>
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    <title>anonymous (summer of '07) 04</title>
    <published>2007-07-22T20:37:59Z</published>
    <updated>2008-06-27T20:05:52Z</updated>
    <category term="anonymous"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <category term="ryan/william"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Anonymous (Summer of '07)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; me, &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; PG-13 for now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pairing(s):&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Future Ryan Ross/William Beckett, Ryan/Pete Wentz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; About as real as MJ's nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan's stuck spending his summer behind the circulation desk at the county library, but the boy with the wavy brown hair that wanders into the library finds a way to make the summer a little less boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author's Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Big ginormous thanks to &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="taught_to_dream" lj:user="taught_to_dream" &gt;&lt;a href="https://taught-to-dream.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://taught-to-dream.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;taught_to_dream&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; for being my beta and making me feel all bubbly inside :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/8913.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;01&lt;/a&gt; | &lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/9354.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;02&lt;/a&gt; | &lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/9807.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;03&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous (Summer of ’07) 04&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forty-eight hours was simply not enough time. Monday came way too quickly for Ryan. The last thing he remembered was being sprawled across his bed, waiting for a reply from Pete and the next thing he knew, his blankets were ripped away from his body and his mother was shouting at him about being late for work. A groan escaped his lips and he stumbled out of bed to the bathroom down the hall. He quickly showered and threw on a black T-shirt and a pair of ripped blue jeans. Ryan hustled out of his house and into his mother’s car out in the driveway, just ten minutes before his shift started. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She fussed under her breath about his lack of promptness and bad choices as she sped down the near empty streets, taking her shortcut to the library. Ryan sighed in frustration, snapping his seatbelt into place. She shot him an angry look out of the corner of her eye. Ryan leaned his head against the window, preparing himself for a lecture he’d heard too many times before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Ryan,” she started off with a shake of her head, her medium length curly brown hair swaying from side to side. “You have not been yourself. Ever since you met &lt;i&gt;that boy&lt;/i&gt;. I’m telling you, Ryan, he’s not good for you.” Ryan opened his mouth to protest, but his mother kept going. “I don’t understand how a smart boy like yourself could fall for such…&lt;i&gt;trash&lt;/i&gt;. He’s got nothing going for himself, his head is in the clouds. &lt;i&gt;That boy&lt;/i&gt; is all that you think about. Staying up late, getting you into trouble, and I bet you’re slacking off at the library, too.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan stared at her, still in slight shock from the nasty comments. He’d heard this all before, just reworded, but it stunned and hurt him every time. He watched his mother roll her eyes in irritation as they pulled into the back parking lot of the library. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sighed and hung her head. “I thought you’d be making better choices, Ryan. I guess I thought wrong.” Their eyes locked and all Ryan could see was the shame in his mother’s eyes. “Maybe this job can open your eyes.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan unbuckled the seatbelt and slid out of the passenger seat. “Thanks for the ride,” he said in an emotionless voice. “I’ll see you later.” He shut the passenger door and watched the car speed out of the lot. He inhaled slowly, his eyes welling with tears. He sniffled softly, his hand moving to wipe his eyes before tears rolled down his cheeks. She just didn’t understand and Ryan doubted she ever would.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He quickly put himself together and made his way into the library. Before he had even made it behind the circulation desk, he heard Jane’s voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The party is tonight at seven—“she paused mid-sentence and the casual tone of her voice suddenly grew stern. “Ryan, you’re late.”  She looked over to him, a look of pure seriousness on her young face and Ryan thought she sounded more like his mother rather than a teenaged girl. Ryan glanced up at the clock behind the desk. 9:01. One minute late. These kids were meticulous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan mumbled an apology and settled into his usual chair behind the desk, as far away from Jane and Alan as possible. They carried on quietly about a party for a few more minutes before Jane looked over to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There’s a party tonight,” she informed him, tucking fly away hairs behind her ears. “Alan and I are going. Care to join us?” she asked and Ryan could hardly believe how formal this invitation to a party sounded. He thought for a second. Jane and Alan’s type of party was probably just a large group of students gathering to study together with chips and dip. That was not Ryan’s thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He shook his head, declining the invitation. “No, thanks. I think I’ll pass on that.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane rolled her eyes. “Fine, it’s your loss for a good time,” she said simply, appearing the least bit affected by Ryan’s answer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Are you sure?” Alan piped in, casting his eyes over to Ryan. “It’s going to be a lot of fun and we can pick you up if you need a ride.” He gave Ryan a hopeful look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No, really, I can’t. Maybe another time,” Ryan replied with a lie. He had no interest in attending a party with the Elite Geeks and he doubted he ever really would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alan frowned a little and went back to his work. “It’s okay, Alan. Mr. Big Shot probably has plans tonight with his imaginary boyfriend, the musician.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm and she smirked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan scoffed, rolling his own eyes. “Yeah, Alan. Miss Know-It-All here is right. I have much better things to do with my imaginary boyfriend. Maybe if I’m feeling nice, I can make up one for her, too, and she can come back down to Earth.” Alan stifled a giggle and Ryan’s eyes locked with Jane’s in an intense stare.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She clicked her tongue and stood up from her chair. “I’m going to grab the flyers for the book sale,” she declared, smoothing out the wrinkles in her knee-length black skirt, and leaving the conversation easily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sorry about that,” Alan spoke up, waving his hand to indicate the previous conversation. “Janette doesn’t really take rejection well and she can be a—“&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Bitch,” Ryan filled in the blank for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“—at times,” Alan finished, smiling sheepishly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan gave him a small smile. “It’s alright. I’m a big boy; I can deal with it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alan nodded, and then stood. “The copier is out of ink, I’ll be back.” Ryan nodded and watched Alan head off toward the copying machine in the resources section. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan sighed to himself and looked around, trying to find something to do, considering maybe even making himself useful. He thought for a second and realized that Plain Jane had a real name, Janette. He chuckled quietly at how similar the two names were. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After staring into empty space for a few seconds, Ryan rolled over to the idle, humming computer on Jane’s side of the desk. He decided to print out a few letters to those who had overdue books or fines left to pay and send them off before his break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ooh, actually getting some work in today?” Jane smirked, minutes later as Ryan finished his fourth or fifth letter. Ryan sneered playfully at his co-worker and she joined him behind the desk, sitting down gracefully in her chair beside him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her body was too close to Ryan’s for his liking, but he said nothing, just continued gathering account overviews. He could feel her watching him over his shoulder and he was more than uncomfortable. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jane cock her head to the side, her hazel eyes fixed on the computer screen. Then suddenly he felt her arm snake around his back and her hand against his on the mouse. She leaned in close and he could smell the peppermint on her breath. He hoped to God that she wasn’t trying to hit on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, resting her eyes on his blushing cheeks. “I have no interest in you, Ryan,” she stated simply and rather coldly. “I wouldn’t dare embarrass myself coming on to a guy that has no interest in the women. I’m just trying to show you there’s an easier way to do this,” she explained, opening a document on the computer. Ryan couldn’t bring himself to look back at her, he was too embarrassed. “See,” she gestured to the screen. “We already have a letter template.” Then as quickly as they had come, her hand was gone from his and her arm went back to resting on the desktop. She smiled. “You’re a silly little thing, Ryan.” She laughed softly. “I like you.” Ryan finally looked over to her. She was actually quite pretty. Big hazel eyes and thin, pink lips that curved gently as she laughed and smiled. Ryan guessed she wasn’t so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Thanks,” he said, his cheeks still a rosy tint. Jane nodded and scooted away from him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alan returned to the desk minutes later and the three of them sat there for a while, Jane on the phone, Alan sorting through the books on the cart, and Ryan printing out letters. Jane broke the silence between them, tapping on the desk with a pen after ending her phone call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You know, that guy, William, came by here looking for you over the weekend,” she informed Ryan, glancing over at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan looked up from the keyboard. He raised an eyebrow in inquiry. “Really?” he asked, unsure if he should be flattered or creeped out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yup,” Alan nodded, deciding to donate to the topic. “He came in Saturday afternoon and asked if you were around. When we told him you didn’t work on the weekends, he looked a little… What’s the word?” Alan scratched his chin as he thought. “Disappointed.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan wasn’t sure why, but Alan’s statement made him feel all bubbly inside. He thought that what William had done was kind of cute, but strange. William didn’t even know him. And then Ryan thought it was too weird and he didn’t know why he’d felt all bubbly. He had a boyfriend. He didn’t need to be getting butterflies in his stomach over some other guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he did seem a bit down after we told him,” Jane added, interrupting Ryan’s thoughts. “But he seemed much better when we let him know you’d be back after the weekend. We told him to try back today.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan’s jaw went slack. “What?” He finally breathed, his skin prickly as he grew nervous. “Why would you tell him to come back?” He couldn’t believe Jane and Alan. They must have been insane. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” she said in an all too innocent tone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan rolled his eyes. “Guys,” he sighed in exasperation. “We hardly know that guy. He could be a serial killer or a rapist or something.” That was a sensible thing to say, but deep down, Ryan really doubted that William guy could hurt a fly. But that didn’t mean he wanted to pursue anything with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Right,” Jane said sarcastically. “You don’t think that guy’s a murderer or anything. If you do, you probably think he’s the hottest murderer you’ve ever met.” Ryan pouted and Jane smirked as Alan stifled a giggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Look, I have a boyfriend.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The imaginary musician?” Jane questioned tauntingly, her eyes twinkling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He’s not imaginary. Damn. Whatever. Pete and I have a really good thing going. I’m not going to mess that up for some random guy who walks in the library. I love him.” He sighed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fine, but where is this boyfriend of yours?” Jane asked. Alan nodded; the look on his face saying that’s a good question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He’s out of town with his band, but he’s coming back soon, hopefully in time for our anniversary.” Ryan smiled slowly, thinking how a year had passed by between him and Pete. “He’s such a great guy. I mean, I’ve never felt this way about anybody else before. He’s so special. And he’s gorgeous. You guys have to meet him. He’s just…amazing.” Ryan grinned. He loved bragging about Pete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off. “Who’s amazing?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The three of them looked up to see William, clad in tight blue jeans and a vintage tee that ended inches above his jeans, exposing the pale skin of his hips. Ryan gasped a little, not expecting William at that moment. He stammered, unable to find the right words as his eyes roamed over William. Yes, if he was a serial killer, he’d be the hottest Ryan ever met, although Ryan had never met any serial killers before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No one,” Ryan said rather quickly. His hand went immediately to his lips. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. Jane raised an eyebrow at him in response to his answer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;William looked around at them. He wasn’t sure what was up, but he went on with what he came to the library for. “So, Ryan, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to have lunch with me or something today.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan was more than surprised and even Jane looked as if she was taken aback by William’s invitation. Ryan’s tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his now dry lips. He gazed at William, who seemed confident, but uncertain at the same time. But that didn’t really matter. What matter was the fact that a guy he hardly knew had asked him on a lunch date and he was waiting for an answer. Ryan couldn’t. He wouldn’t. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No, I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said softly, not wanting to hurt William’s feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, William was the one that seemed surprised. “You sure?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes.” Ryan was more than sure, or at least he thought he was. “Look, William, you seem nice and all, but I have a boyfriend.” The spark in William’s eyes died and he took a step back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, I’m sorry,” William stammered quietly and then quickly turned around to make his way to his way to the exit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the exit door slammed shut, Jane and Alan were on Ryan’s case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t believe you just turned him down!” Jane exclaimed quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I know, man. You’re crazy!” Alan added in, giving Ryan a look of pure disbelief and shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan couldn’t believe their responses. “Come on, guys. Are you serious? I’m taken. I can’t just go to lunch with some guy I don’t even know.” He returned their incredulous looks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Going to lunch isn’t the same as going to bed,” Jane said in her usual matter-of-fact tone. “Maybe he just wanted to be your friend.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.” He huffed. “Look, just drop it. It’s done and over with. Hopefully, he’ll get the hint and stop coming by. It was starting to worry me.” Ryan wasn’t as relieved as he was coming off to be, but for now it would have to do.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:9807</id>
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    <title>anonymous (summer of '07) 03</title>
    <published>2007-07-16T16:59:39Z</published>
    <updated>2007-07-22T20:47:44Z</updated>
    <category term="anonymous"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <category term="ryan/william"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Anonymous (Summer of '07)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; me, &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; PG-13 for now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pairing(s):&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Future Ryan Ross/William Beckett, Ryan/Pete Wentz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; About as real as Mikey's nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan's stuck spending his summer behind the circulation desk at the country library, but the boy with the wavy brown hair that wanders into the library finds a way to make the summer a little less boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author's Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Big ginormous thanks to &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="xshallowknifex" lj:user="xshallowknifex" &gt;&lt;a href="https://xshallowknifex.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://xshallowknifex.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;xshallowknifex&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; who beta'd this for me :DD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/8913.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;01&lt;/a&gt; | &lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/9354.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;02&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan was dying or at least he thought he was dying late Saturday afternoon. He had never felt so lonely and miserable in all his fifteen years on Earth. His heart was aching and his body was yearning. This summer was the first time in almost a year that he had gone more than a day or two without seeing or hearing from Pete. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A loud groan escaped his lips as he stood from the couch in his living room, having grown bored and tired from flipping through the cable channels for the past five minutes.  The house was empty except for him; his mom had a meeting at her real estate agency and Ray was spending the day with his college buddies or something along those lines. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan found himself back in his bedroom down the hall moments later, flopping down onto his unmade, messy bed. His linen smelled like aftershave and the fabric softener his mother used for his laundry. He exhaled slowly. He was bored, alone, and miserable. Perfect for a Saturday afternoon. His lips formed a frown as his eyes landed upon the framed photograph of him and Pete on his nightstand. There was another pang of sadness within him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just in a few days from now, Thursday to be exact, would mark Pete and Ryan’s one year anniversary, and Ryan had a strong fear that they wouldn’t be spending their special day together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last year had been a little rough, especially with Ryan’s parents who had taken a strong distaste to Pete upon their first meeting, but it had been the best time of Ryan’s life. He had never experienced such strong feelings for anyone before. There wasn’t much that could compare to the passion and love he had for Pete. And if he didn’t know any better, he might even say he’d fallen in love with the older boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan had met him during the summer before his sophomore year at a local battle of the bands. He’d complimented Pete on his band’s performance and Pete said he liked Ryan’s shoes. But Pete’s rock star aspirations and the seven year age difference between him and Ryan were a big no-no in Ryan’s parents’ eyes, especially his mother’s. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His mother had told him just after she’d met Pete that there was something about him that she didn’t like. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she didn’t want Ryan near him. She’d called it “a mother’s intuition”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that was eleven months ago and Ryan still felt as if the big man was ready to take him. He picked up his cell phone from the floor and browsed through his contacts, stopping occasionally on a potential someone to talk to. After realizing that a majority of his friends were out of town for the summer, he dropped his phone back onto the floor and let out a slow sigh of defeat and resignation. This definitely was not the summer he imagined himself having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What he’d been picturing the last few weeks of his sophomore year were days spent hanging out with Pete and his friends, going to shows and festivals, meeting new people. Maybe even occasionally taking a trip out of town, not hours spent at the county library, bored out of his mind, cutting into his valuable time, and Saturdays stuck home alone without his boyfriend. He had made big plans for his summer, but then an opportunity for Pete’s band had came up and Pete had to go and meet people at venues to set up gigs and whatnot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a yawn and then let his eyes slip shut. Some rest would do him good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He had fallen into a deep sleep over an hour later when his cell phone rang loudly from the carpet beneath his bed. He blinked himself out of his sleep and looked down at his phone on the floor through slightly blurred vision. He groaned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With sluggishness, he picked up his now silent phone. He flipped it open and a missed call alert flashed along with a new voicemail alert, most likely from his mother. He dialed his voicemail and entered his pass code. One new message, sent 5:56 pm from telephone number… The recorded voice finally shut up and the voicemail played:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hi, Ryan. It’s Mom. I’m calling you from my cell. The meeting lasted longer than expected and the freeway is backed up. There was a major accident near one of the exits. I don’t know what time Ray is planning on coming home and it doesn’t look like I’ll be there soon. So, you should probably, make yourself some dinner. There’s some TV dinners in the freezer and spaghetti left over from last night. I think there’s some instant mac n’ cheese in the cupboard, too. You have to check. Make sure you eat something before you go to bed. Be safe, honey. I’ll see you in a bit. Love ya.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a click sound of the call ending and Ryan shut his phone. So, he had to make himself dinner. That wasn’t too much of a problem. It would keep him busy for at least ten minutes. He rolled off of his bed and headed to the kitchen, debating between macaroni n cheese and left over spaghetti. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan didn’t understand how he could get A’s in his advanced math and science classes and still not be able to know how to make instant macaroni. It had taken him almost ten minutes to figure the direction on the box out. He sat on the island in the kitchen across from the microwave, watching the digital numbers decrease second by second, the bowl of macaroni rotating slowly in the lit up oven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ran a hand through his messy, bed hair, unable to stop himself from wondering what Pete was up to right now. He’d called him several times throughout the day, but most of his calls went straight to Pete’s voicemail box, which was full. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was sure there was a perfectly reasonable excuse for Pete not answering his phone or returning his calls. He was probably busy with his band and the venue managers and all the music business stuff. Ryan didn’t think he needed to be worried. It wasn’t like he couldn’t trust Pete. He had to if he was going to let his boyfriend go across the country and meddle with his band’s groupies. And of course, Pete could trust Ryan not to fool around with other people while he was out of town though the chances of Ryan hooking up with anyone from the library were slim to none. Well, except for William, but Ryan didn’t think that William guy had anything on Pete. He was just another face and Ryan thought he had stalker tendencies. No, hooking up with someone from the library was not going to happen. Not as long as Pete had Ryan’s heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The microwave beeped loudly in the kitchen and Ryan slid off the countertop. He scorched his finger on the hot bowl when he took it out of the microwave. After allowing his meal cool off, Ryan curled up on the couch with his mac n cheese in front of the TV. Digging into the bowl of noodles as he settled with a soap rerun, Ryan couldn’t help but to wonder what Jane and Allen were doing. Studying, perhaps? Filling out college applications? He laughed at the thought of Jane going crazy at a party. And then for some reason or another, he wondered what William was doing. Not that William really mattered though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan’s mind replayed the events at the library from Friday. Jane’s accusations and William’s introduction. But they both meant nothing. Jane didn’t know what she was talking about. Ryan hardly knew William. Of course, he thought William was gorgeous and damn near perfect, but really, he had no feelings for him. As for William’s introductions, people can be friendly if they want. Ryan was trying his best to convince himself, but he wasn’t sure he was doing such a good job.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When his bowl was empty and the reruns ended, Ryan tossed his dish in the sink and plopped down at the computer desk in his bedroom, deciding to check his email before he turned in for the night. To his delight, he had a new email from Pete and he couldn’t even keep the smile from forming on his lips as he clicked the link. The message opened and he read it slowly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hey, Ryan,&lt;br /&gt;I’m just checkin in with you. We’re in California right now. We booked a few shows for late August that I’m really looking forward to. And when we get back home, we’ve got meetings lined up with a few labels. Isn’t that great? It feels so good being out here, ya know? Doing what I love to do. The future for the band is looking really bright right now. If we could get just get signed, I know this whole thing will take off. And it’s gonna be great. I can see it already. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, enough about this music business stuff. How have you been, baby? I love doing this stuff, but it’s terrible without you. You can’t imagine how much I miss you. I’m so lonely when you’re not around. I mean, I know I’m surrounded by people and dozens of willing girls and boys, but they’re nothing compared to you. I probably sound like a low budget romantic film, but it’s true. And I’m really sorry that I haven’t been able to call. Things are hectic at times and my phone has been acting like a piece of junk. You’d think for all the money I paid for it, I’d get decent service, at least one bar. Anyway, how are things at the library? I bet you’re having a blast. I’m sure you’ve found a way to make story time and stacking books a bit more exciting. I’m just hoping that you haven’t fallen for a skinny dude with nice hair while I’m gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, baby, I’ve got to get going. Be good, alright? Have fun. I love you.&lt;br /&gt;-Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Pete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I might just be home sooner than you think ;)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan sighed in relief and then grinned. He was more than happy to hear from Pete and glad to know that things were going well. And the news that he might be home sooner made Ryan feel like a kid in a candy shop. Ryan had chuckled a little throughout the email and had choked on a breath of air after reading the line about a boy with nice hair. An image of William had immediately flashed in his mind and he had to shake his head to focus back on the email. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deciding to save his reply for the next morning, Ryan slipped back into his pajamas and crawled into bed after shutting off his computer. Minutes later, his eyelids grew heavy and he fell into a deep sleep full of odd dreams involving himself, Pete, and..William.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/10465.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;chapter 04&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:9354</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/9354.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=9354"/>
    <title>anonymous (summer of '07) 02</title>
    <published>2007-06-25T23:12:50Z</published>
    <updated>2007-07-22T20:48:16Z</updated>
    <category term="anonymous"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <category term="ryan/william"/>
    <lj:music>mindless self indulgence // shut me up</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Anonymous (Summer of '07)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; me, &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; PG-13 for now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pairing(s):&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Future Ryan Ross/William Beckett, Ryan/Pete Wentz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; About as real as Mikey's nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan's stuck spending his summer behind the circulation desk at the country library, but the boy with the wavy brown hair that wanders into the library finds a way to make the summer a little less boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author's Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Big ginormous thanks to &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="taught_to_dream" lj:user="taught_to_dream" &gt;&lt;a href="https://taught-to-dream.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://taught-to-dream.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;taught_to_dream&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; who beta'd this for me :DD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/8913.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;01&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After too many tedious hours at the library, Friday finally rolled around and Ryan waited patiently for his shift to end as he placed books back on the shelf in alphabetical order in the children’s reading area, just after weekly story time had ended. He stood from his kneeling position and wheeled his empty cart back over to the circulation desk. Ryan found Jane there, her legs kicked up on the counter top, filing her pink cotton candy colored nails. He still hadn’t asked her real name yet and that didn’t seem to bother her at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Your friend’s back again,” she informed Ryan without looking up. She reached down into her bag and rummaged through it for a moment. Ryan watched her pull a bottle of nail polish remover out of a compartment in her bag. He gave her a confused look. She nodded her head towards the tables near the main entrance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan followed her gaze to the familiar face sitting at one of the tables. Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy with the long, wavy hair and nice hips had been visiting the library everyday since Ryan had seen him on his first day. He never borrowed any items or came to the desk to ask for help. He’d just pull up a chair and take a seat and watch. On occasion, he’d pull some paper out of a backpack he carried with him and start writing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan wondered what his visits were all about. He didn’t know many teenagers that wanted to spend their time in the library when they didn’t have to. It didn’t seem like the guy had to either. He just sat around. For someone so good looking, Ryan thought he was kind of odd. He tried to think of reasons why the guy wouldn’t be out enjoying his summer, letting all the boys and girls in town gawk at his good looks, or getting a tan, or going to shows, but everything he came up with was irrelevant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan shrugged and pushed his cart behind the counter. He sat down in his chair and looked over to Jane, who was staring at him with her eyebrow arched. “What?” he finally asked, unable to stand Jane’s staring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I think he likes you,” she whispered, unscrewing the cap to her nail polish remover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan rolled his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“And you know what else I think?” She continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Ryan’s turn to raise an eyebrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I think you like him too.” Ryan’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack. He couldn’t believe what Jane was accusing him of. He didn’t even know the guy. How could she assume he had a crush on him? “Don’t give me that look, Ryan. I’ve got eyes too, ya know. He’s not coming in here for my company and I see the way you look at him when he comes in here.” She raised both her eyebrows, issuing a challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You don’t know what you’re taking about,” Ryan said in a defensive voice. “You should get your glasses checked, honey, because I haven’t been eyeing him.” Ryan lied between his teeth. “And how do you know I’m into guys anyway, Miss Know-It-All?” He narrowed his eyes at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Just like you said, I know it all. I could tell. You hardly looked at me when we first met, but I saw you looking Alan up and down. He’s not much of a looker, but you were still eyeing him.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane was right and Ryan hated her at that moment. “Fine, whatever,” he said bitterly. “But I happen to have a boyfriend,” he added matter-of-factly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh really now?” Jane inquired, scooting to the edge of her seat, greatly interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah. His name is Pete. He’s a musician,” Ryan informed her. He didn’t know why he was going into details about his personal life to a girl he’d met days before who he hadn’t taking a liking to upon meeting her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ooh, a musician, huh? Bad choice.” she smirked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Whatever. You don’t know him,” Ryan shot back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She laughed. “And I bet you do, right?” Ryan gave her a threatening glare and she waved her eyes to dismiss her last comments. “Tell me about him. Where’s he at now?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan glanced at the clock on the wall. His shift ended in two minutes. “Maybe another day.” He pushed himself up from his seat. She frowned, but nodded. “Maybe you should pay more attention to your work instead of what I’m doing,” he suggested as he grabbed his backpack from under the desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mmhmm,” Jane said in disinterest and rubbed the clear liquid on her fingernails. “Bye, Ryan,” she called as he walked around the desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“See ya later,” he replied and threw his backpack over one shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he made his way to the exit doors, he felt a hand touch the back of his shoulder lightly. He turned and found the subject of his and Jane’s conversation standing before him, a small smile on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hey,” the guy said. “I’m William.” He extended his hand to Ryan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan accepted his hand and shook it, surprised at how warm the guy’s skin felt against his own. “Hi, I’m Ryan, Ryan Ross.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;William nodded and let Ryan’s hand go. Ryan almost melted at the loss of contact. “It’s nice to meet you, Ryan. I’ll see you around.” With that said, the guy, William, walked past Ryan and out of the double doors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan stared at his hand for a moment and turned toward the circulation desk. He could see the grin on Jane’s face that screamed, “I told you so.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/9807.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;chapter 03&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:8913</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/8913.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=8913"/>
    <title>anonymous (summer of '07) 01</title>
    <published>2007-06-20T01:07:49Z</published>
    <updated>2007-07-22T20:48:48Z</updated>
    <category term="anonymous"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <category term="ryan/william"/>
    <lj:music>paramore // misery business</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Anonymous (Summer of '07)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; me, &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; PG-13 for now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pairing(s):&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Future Ryan Ross/William Beckett, Ryan/Pete Wentz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; About as real as Mikey's nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan's stuck spending his summer behind the circulation desk at the country library, but the boy with the wavy brown hair that wanders into the library finds a way to make the summer a little less boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author's Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Big ginormous thanks to &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="taught_to_dream" lj:user="taught_to_dream" &gt;&lt;a href="https://taught-to-dream.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://taught-to-dream.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;taught_to_dream&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; who beta'd this for me :DD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan was bored. No, he was beyond bored. It was the first official day of summer vacation and his first day at his new job behind the circulation desk at the county library. It was one heck of a way for a fifteen year-old to spend their summer, but he really didn’t have a choice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His parents, well his mother and her husband, Ray, had decided he would either have to take up a job over the summer or spend his vacation with his great aunt Agnes in Kentucky. They had said it was to simply keep him out of trouble, but Ryan knew better than that. The real reason was to keep him away from his boyfriend, Pete, whom they loathed greatly. Though neither of his options appealed to him, he settled with the job, having decided that he couldn’t handle his aunt’s ten cats and smelly attic for two months. Besides, working provided him with extra cash in his pocket and still left him a little time to sneak off with Pete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan let a slow sigh escape from his lips as he flipped through the pages of an Alternative Press magazine that he’d picked up on his way over. He’d only stepped into the large, tan-walled building a mere two hours ago and he hated the place already. From its neat rows of tight packed books to its chairs and desks and disturbing quietness, he couldn’t stand it one bit. The most exciting thing that had happened that morning was a mother trying to calm her toddler who had decided to throw a temper tantrum near the mystery novels. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl on the far side of the counter, Plain Jane, whose real name Ryan didn’t know because he hadn’t bothered to ask, sat in a maroon, expensive-looking office chair, her khaki-pant covered legs folded Indian style in her seat, engaged in a thick hardcover book. She hadn’t said much since Ryan arrived except for, “It’s going to be great having some more help around here.” Then she guided him to the circulation desk and introduced him to Alan, her even geekier sidekick, who wore horned-rimmed glasses that were lazily taped together and ugly brown loafers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan didn’t think he’d like either of them much. They seemed like the smart kids who sat at their own table at lunch and didn’t want to be bothered with anyone who didn’t scream “over achiever”. They wore their clothes pressed neatly and they held their chins high. Ryan had deemed them “elite geeks” upon first seeing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both Ryan and Plain Jane’s attention were averted away from their magazines and books at the sound of the entrance door slamming shut. Ryan only hoped that it wasn’t another parent with their snotty nosed children. And he felt slightly relieved when he saw a tall, lean gentleman, clad in a kid-sized black T-shirt and skin tight black jeans. His heart sped up in his chest as the man walked past the desk as he noticed how the low rise jeans hugged his hips. Ryan shook his head a little to shake the thought, remember that he had a boyfriend. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jane eyeing the gentleman as he made his way to the fiction section, and Ryan smirked to himself. He couldn’t help but to think, “Nerd girl’s into the skinny, pretty boy type. Who would’ve known?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of minutes, Ryan noticed the guy making his way back over to the circulation desk, empty-handed. Ryan prayed that he didn’t need help because he didn’t have a clue about anything in the library and if he did need help he hoped the guy would stray over to Jane or Alan. They were the library type. But Ryan’s hopes crashed down on him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Can you help me with something?” Ryan looked up and met the gaze of warm, brown eyes. The gentleman had reached the desk and had asked him for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan froze. His mouth went dry and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. No, he couldn’t help him with anything. He couldn’t even talk. Ryan noticed how gorgeous the man was up close and the man wasn’t even a man, but a teenager, who didn’t look much older than Ryan himself. His wavy, shoulder length brown hair, framed his angular handsome face perfectly and his thin, cherry red lips, shone with what Ryan assumed was some type of lip gloss. Ryan’s breath caught in his throat. He could only hope that this guy didn’t think he was a total freak or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ryan’s new here, so, I’ll be glad to help you,” Jane offered and stepped from behind the desk, breaking Ryan out of his sudden stupor. The guy smiled his thanks and told her he was looking for a Stephen King novel. Ryan watched in humility as Jane guided him back to the fiction area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan mentally slapped and insulted himself. He had been such a moron. He could hardly believe what had just happened. He’d seen dozens of gorgeous people in his life and never before had he just frozen and had his mind go completely blank. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ran a hand through his hair. Moments later, he saw Jane returning with the guy, a book in his hand. Jane checked out the book for him and he cast a backward glance at Ryan along with a smile before exiting the building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane turned towards Ryan with her eyebrow raised inquisitively. “You know him or something?” she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan shook his head and gazed down at his bitten down nails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Heh.” She sank back down into her chair and picked up her book. Minutes later she looked up at Ryan and said, “You probably hate it here right now, but things will get better.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan shrugged and thought to himself, “Yeah fuckin’ right.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/9354.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;chapter 02...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:8296</id>
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    <title>That Thing You Do</title>
    <published>2007-06-19T03:22:15Z</published>
    <updated>2011-07-23T19:40:15Z</updated>
    <category term="slash_100"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <lj:music>the used // the bird and the worm</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; That Thing You Do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; me, &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Mature for sexual content&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Prompt:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; 025. Accident @ &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-C     "  data-ljuser="slash_100" lj:user="slash_100" &gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.png?v=556&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;slash_100&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan/Pete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan’s not happy with Pete after he breaks the washing machine. Smut :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; It's a fairy tale. Mmhmmm, make believe, like Peter Pan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;That Thing You Do&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t believe you broke the fucking washing machine,” Ryan told Pete in a bitter, incredulous tone as he carried a salmon colored laundry basket into the Laundromat down the street from their condo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete frowned, knitting his eyebrows together, holding the glass door open with his foot, another basket of clothes in his arms. “I didn’t break it,” he whined in a child voice, which didn’t work to its full benefit considering Ryan’s state of irritation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, you did, Pete,” Ryan stated, entering the facility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete followed behind Ryan to a washer near the back of building where he dropped the basket carefully onto the linoleum in front of the pale yellow machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I did not!” Pete blurted rather loudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan turned to him and narrowed his brown eyes. The glare was unlike Ryan, cold and harsh, but Ryan Ross didn’t do Laundromats. It wasn’t him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If you didn’t break it, then tell me why after the last time you used it, it stopped working, Peter?” Ryan rolled his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete shrank back at the harshness behind Ryan’s words and the use of his full first name. That was a clear hint, Ryan was not too happy with him. Pete took the basket from Ryan and began to load the sorted clothing into the machine. He slipped a few quarters into the slot, emptied a bit of washing powder in, and set the machine. It whirred for a few minutes before the blades began to churn the clothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan settled in the corner opposite Pete, sliding his large, dark shades over his eyes and throwing his hood over his head in an attempt to be inconspicuous. Pete chuckled to himself quietly, but stopped suddenly, realizing if he hadn’t thrown a few pairs of shoes into their washing machine, he wouldn’t be in his predicament. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a sigh he cross the room to where Ryan leaned against the wall whose paint was chipping badly. He touched Ryan’s shoulder lightly and Ryan drew back, not ready to deal with Pete right now. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Peter. Go away,” Ryan said coldly, averting his eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete pouted. That one had hurt. “Look, Ry, I’m sorry…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t want to hear it, Pete. Just go do the damn laundry.” Ryan folded his arms in front of his chest and shifted his glasses a little. This conversation was over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete turned away and headed back to his dirty clothes. He put his whites into another machine and started it up, hoping to get out of there as soon as possible. He leaned against the machine, his back to sulky Ryan, elbows on the machine door, head buried in his palms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tension between him and Ryan was giving him a major headache. Even though Pete was older and the dominant one when it came to intimacy, Ryan was the one who truly controlled their relationship. Pete would do anything Ryan told him and anything to make him happy. But he always found the latter to be most difficult considering how picky and stubborn Ryan could be. He groaned softly into his palms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After over an hour Ryan and Pete’s clothes were clean and dry and folded neatly in the laundry baskets. Pete loaded the clothes back into the car and settled into the driver’s seat. The ride home was absurdly quiet, which worried Pete even more. Once Pete parked in the driveway, Ryan exited the vehicle immediately, leaving Pete with the laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hours later near eleven that night, Pete shut off the television downstairs and made his way up the steps to the bedroom he and Ryan shared. Ryan hadn’t said a word to him since they were at the Laundromat and Pete had given up on trying to make things better. He wasn’t even sure about being in the same room with Ryan after the dirty looks Ryan had been shooting him, let alone sleeping in the same bed with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete pushed open the ajar bedroom door and found Ryan sitting up in the large bed, a book in hand, reading in the light of the lamp on the bedside table. Ryan didn’t bother to look up from his book as Pete crossed the room and began rummaging through a drawer in the dresser. Pete took Ryan’s silence as a hint to stay away and grabbed a T-shirt and pajama pants. He’d sleep in the guest room tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete.” He was almost out of the bedroom when he heard Ryan call his name from behind him. He turned around slowly and met Ryan’s intent gaze. “Come lie down.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete hesitated. “I think I’m gonna sleep in the guest bedroom tonight, Ry.” He chewed on his lower lip anxiously, watching Ryan’s face go unchanged. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete.” Ryan’s eyes were soft and warm again despite Pete’s slight defiance. “Just come lie down,” he said softly, his voice no where near demanding, something Pete hadn’t been expecting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly he approached the bed and sat down beside Ryan atop the comforter. Ryan reached up and his slender fingers stroked Pete’s hair gently. He cupped Pete’s cheek and caressed it soothingly. Ryan sighed deeply and placed his book on the bedside table. Pete gazed at him, confused by his mood change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete, I’m sorry,” Ryan said flatly and Pete didn’t really believe he wanted to apologize. “I really am, baby,” Ryan added more sincerely. “I shouldn’t have gotten so irritated over something so petty. I’ve just been…” He paused, searching for the right words and Pete waited patiently for them to come. “…a little out of it, I guess.” Ryan frowned to himself and ran a hand through his brown hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s okay, Ryan, really. I didn’t mean to break the washer,” Pete said innocently and Ryan smiled appreciatively. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan ran his finger across Pete’s bottom lip. “I love you so much, Pete.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I love you too, Ryan. You know I do.” Instinctively, Pete parted his lips and surrounded Ryan’s finger with his warm, wet mouth and he sucked lightly on the digit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan bit down on his lip to stifle a moan. “Nnnn, Pete, I’m not in the mood for sex right now,” he informed Pete, slipping his finger out of the lyricist’s mouth. &lt;br /&gt;Pete nodded and straddled his boyfriend’s hips. He leaned down and captured Ryan’s lips softly with his. His tongue slid along Ryan’s, sending chills down both of their spines and blood rushing to both of their cocks. Ryan’s hands moved to the back of Pete’s neck, rubbing small circles into the sensitive skin. Pete sighed against Ryan’s lips and pulled back, leaving Ryan panting and wanting more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You still not in the mood for sex, Ry?” He asked inquisitively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Pete’s disappoint, Ryan nodded. Pete pouted a little and slid down the younger man’s body before kneeling between his ankles. He ran his hand up Ryan’s flannel covered thigh to the tint in the other man’s pajamas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan nodded again, his eyes fixed on Pete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete sighed in defeat. “Fine, but let me suck you off at least, ya know, to apologize about the washing machine.” Ryan didn’t respond and Pete took that as a yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With ease and quickness, Pete rid Ryan of his pajama pants and smiled when he noticed Ryan was going commando. Pete placed a soft kiss on the tip of Ryan’s erect dick and ran his index finger along the underside. He made himself comfortable between Ryan’s legs and swirled his tongue around the head, causing Ryan to emit a low moan and writhe a little on the bed. He ran his tongue along the underside, sending chills throughout Ryan’s body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan inhaled deeply. He never was the most patient person when it came to the bedroom. “Peeeteeee,” he whined. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete kissed Ryan’s inner thigh before taking the head of Ryan’s cock into his mouth. Ryan gasped at the sudden wetness and warmth around his hard member, arching his hips off the bed to feel more of Pete’s mouth around him. Ryan bucked his hips as Pete’s mouth slid further down his dick, making him moan loudly. His fingers entangled in Pete’s dark hair, tugging lightly as Pete’s head bobbed up and down in his lap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ahhhh, fuck Pete…” Ryan mumbled between desperate moans. The tip of his dick hit the back of Pete’s throat and Pete’s muscles relaxed as his tongue moved against his dick. “Just like that, baby.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete continued to deep throat Ryan, causing him to writhe beneath him on the mattress, one hand pushing on the back of Pete’s head in an attempt to feel more of Pete’s mouth on his cock, the other tightly gripping the sheets. Pete hummed and moaned around Ryan and the vibrations sent Ryan into his own nirvana, spiraling toward his orgasm. Ryan could describe how good Pete was making him feel and his incoherent babble between heavy pants and moans let Pete know he was doing his job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete’s hand moved to play with Ryan’s sack as he sucked hard on Ryan’s cock, coaxing an orgasm out of him. Ryan groaned, feeling his muscles tightened. “Ahh, shit, Pete. It feels so good. I’m so close.” As Pete took all out of Ryan into his mouth, Ryan let go, emitting a scream of pleasure as he climaxed inside Pete’s mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan fell back onto the sheets, panting hard and riding his orgasm, his body shaking. Pete smiled, swallowing Ryan’s seed and licking his lips. Pete laid down beside Ryan, playing with his softening dick as Ryan tried to catch his breath. After a few minutes, Ryan’s breathing returned to normal and he grinned at Pete. “Thanks, baby.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete nodded. “You’re welcome, boo.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan glanced down at the bulge in Pete’s jean. “You want me to handle that?” He offered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nah, I got it. You get your rest. I’m gonna hop in the shower.” He stood from the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“All right. Good night, Pete.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“’Night, Ry.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete turned off the lamp and made his way into the adjoining bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete,” Ryan called out to Pete before he closed the bathroom door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, babe?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Maybe you should break the washing machine more often.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete chuckled softly. He had been thinking the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;author's &lt;s&gt;note&lt;/s&gt; rambling: okay, not my best, but i needed to write something. this story was kinda random and inspired by people who get made a little things and are really stubborn about it and yeah. i dunno. what'd you think?&lt;/b&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:8026</id>
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    <title>Everything Must Go!</title>
    <published>2007-05-24T13:08:45Z</published>
    <updated>2007-05-26T00:42:29Z</updated>
    <category term="slash_100"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Everything Must Go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; me, newerections&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; PG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Prompt:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; 83. Home @ &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-C     "  data-ljuser="slash_100" lj:user="slash_100" &gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.png?v=556&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;slash_100&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan Ross / Pete Wentz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan Ross is property of Pete Wentz. Fake as a mug. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Everything Must Go&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sky’s gray and the smell of rain lingers in the air. The front lawn’s scattered with miscellaneous items from inside the small two-story house. House, not home. It hasn’t been a home for three months, since Ryan packed his things and left. It’s just been a shell with a roof in need of repairing and dirty windows and a sagging porch, a place of residence for a young man whose heart’s grown cold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s time for Pete to go. Time for him to leave this place behind; leave behind all the memories that were made. It’s a place of the past now. There’s no more love, no more warmth, no more comfort. Just hardwood floors and soft blue wallpaper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The items sell quickly and he reminisces pastimes with each thing that goes. The old armoire from the upstairs bedroom that Ryan had filled with more than two dozen shirts and slacks in fifteen minutes’ time. The loveseat from the den, where they’d stayed up all hours of the night, talking, cuddling, giggling, and watching old soaps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The memories pain him. Glances at the house and the old furniture and utensil set remind him of Ryan. Everything must go so he can escape the pain of the past. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun sets and he drags the items inside and settles in his bedroom. The storm breaks loose, thunder rattles the windows, and lighting flashes near the oak tree across the street. He curls up in his freshly laundered sheets, inhaling the fabric softener. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His room is bare except for a few scarce items he didn’t have the heart to part from. On his bedside table, rests an old photograph that he has yet to throw into a cardboard box. He gazes at it sadly. Two young men smile back at him, their arms wrapped around one another in a compassionate embrace, their eyes warm with ardor. He sighs and cries himself to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A loud ringing wakes him from his restless sleep the next morning. He shuts off his alarm and staggers sleepily downstairs to the kitchen. He yawns and stretches his limbs before making a brew of coffee. The strong aroma spreads around the empty house and he settles into a chair at the kitchen table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within hours, he’s back on the sagging, front porch watching the locals ponder his things lying about on the lawn. Regret pinches heart, but he shakes the feeling. It’s his only chance of escaping. The day goes slowly and the customers die off and return to their own homes and families. He’s pulling in an old rug when the shuffling of feet along the wet grass stops him. He turns slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warm, brown eyes and a soft smile on full, pink lips greet him. His heart skips a beat as he carefully watches the young man before him. The man, clad in tight blue jeans and a black T-shirt, scoops down and pulls out a stuffed pink bunny rabbit out of a woven basket. The man gazes at it wistfully, running his hands along the dyed cotton, fiddling with the buttons sewed on the fitted vest. He sighs. Their eyes lock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I remember when I gave you him last October when you were having a bad day. You said he was weird looking, but you’d love him anyway.” The young man’s voice was distant as he spoke. He looks towards the bench swing on the front porch and walks past Pete, their shoulders brushing slightly. He settles on the unsteady bench and pats the spot beside him, gesturing for his ex-lover to join him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete accepts the offer with hesitance and keeps his distance as he lowers himself to the wood. His mind flashes back to months before when he spent his summer right on this bench, his arm cast around Ryan’s shoulders as they watched the neighborhood children dash through the running water of the sprinklers to cool off from the extreme heat. His heart sinks at the thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You can’t just walk away, Pete. Moving out of this house to the other side of town won’t change a thing. The memories aren’t going anywhere. They’ll be here, in this house, and they’ll be in our hearts and minds forever. It won’t solve any problems. It won’t let you forget what we’ve been through. It won’t let you forget me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete turns and studies the man he spent the last three years of his life with. Ryan had been his everything. And no matter what, Ryan had a piece of his heart. Ryan would still be apart of him. Ryan was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You walked away, didn’t you?” Pete asks, reminding himself and Ryan of that horrible day three months ago. “You wanted to forget everything that happened. You got up and you left. You left me here, by myself. You left me alone. You left me here in this house that I bought for the two of us, you and me. You left me alone in an empty bed on a cold night in a house with all the moments we shared. You left me, Ryan. What do you expect me to do? Stay here and spend my life, dwelling. You walked away. Why can’t I?” His eyes narrow a little and his heart pounds inside his chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But I came back. Don’t you see that? I’m coming back. I don’t want to live without the memories. I can’t. They’re everything that’s made me happy in life. When I walked away, all I got was emptiness. Nothing’s going to change that until I’m back in this house, in the upstairs bedroom…with you.” Ryan turns away with tears in his eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silent moments pass before Pete finally says, “Everything’s gone. I mean, a lot of the stuff that was in there is gone. There’s nothing to come back here for.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That’s where you’re wrong, Pete. The house isn’t all I’ve come back for. I’ve come back for you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s a roll of thunder in the distance and the deep grey clouds burst and rain pours down on the city. Pete stands from the bench and takes Ryan’s hand in his. He guides Ryan back into the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan explains the day he left and the last three months to Pete. And Pete just nods, not truly understanding. But he doesn’t need to understand. It’s not important. It’s just something to fill the awkward silence in the kitchen where they sit. Ryan opens his mouth to apologize again, but Pete stops him mid-sentence. “Stop apologizing. I forgave you a long time ago. All I want now is some more furniture and a little dinner and maybe to spend some time with you so we can make some new memories.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan smiles. “I’m with you on that.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as Pete leans across the table, pressing his lips softly to Ryan’s in a kiss that sends chills through their bodies, the atmosphere in the house shifts. No more void. No more cold. Just a feeling of being complete, a feeling of warmth, a feeling of happiness, a feeling of being home.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:7543</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/7543.html"/>
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    <title>La De Da</title>
    <published>2007-05-18T00:31:40Z</published>
    <updated>2007-05-24T05:03:54Z</updated>
    <category term="slash_100"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <content type="html">A nice simple little update. I'm on a small break from Never Knew, mmk? Kthx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; La De Da&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; me, &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; PG-13 for language&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Prompt:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;a href="http://community.livejournal.com/we_are_cities/60246.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;March 31, 07&lt;/a&gt; @ &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-C     "  data-ljuser="we_are_cities" lj:user="we_are_cities" &gt;&lt;a href="https://we-are-cities.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.png?v=556&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://we-are-cities.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;we_are_cities&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;prompt 96. Writer's Choice @ &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-C     "  data-ljuser="slash_100" lj:user="slash_100" &gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.png?v=556&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;slash_100&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Pete Wentz / Ryan Ross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Sumamry:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;i&gt;“Even at four in the fucking morning, your voice is music to my ears."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; About as real at the weapons of mass destruction ;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;La De Da&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a decisive sigh Ryan lifted flipped open his cell phone and speed-dialed Pete’s number. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a few minutes past 4:30 in the morning and Ryan had been awake for almost an hour. He’d awaken out of a restless slumber full of strange dreams in a cold sweat and he couldn’t fall back asleep. Irritated, he’d staggered out of his tangled, damp sheets into the living room of his apartment. After fixing himself a strong cup of tea, he settled onto the old, floral couch in front of the TV for some Lifetime Movie Network. He’d quickly grown bored of the sixteen year-old girl with an eating disorder on the television screen and had picked up his cell phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He folded his legs Indian-style and chewed on his lip nervously. The phone began to ring after a moment of silence and his heartbeat sped up. R-r-r-ring.  By the third ring, Ryan was ready to hang up the call but changed his mind at the voice on the other end of line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a muffled groan followed by a grumbled, “Hello?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan smiled slowly. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said cheerfully, feeling a sudden warmth inside his body at the sound of Pete’s voice. He heard Pete shuffle slightly and he imagined his boyfriend, clad in a dingy, old T-shirt and loose, plaid pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips, lifting himself up groggily from his mattress and glancing at his caller ID wearily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do you know that it’s four o’clock in the fucking morning?” Pete said in irritation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan frowned a little. “Yeah, but I can’t sleep.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He heard Pete sigh and clear his throat. “Nn, well, call me later. I need to sleep.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete…” Ryan whined, hoping to stop Pete before he’d slam the phone back down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a small groan on Pete’s end before he finally said, “You know what, Ryan?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What, Pete?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Even at four in the fucking morning, your voice is music to my ears.” He’d taken the words right out of Ryan’s mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan laughed quietly and grinned from ear to ear and rested his head on the arm of the couch. “It’s good to hear you, too, Pete. It really is.”</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:7267</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/7267.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=7267"/>
    <title>When I Get Home, You're So Dead</title>
    <published>2007-05-02T22:25:48Z</published>
    <updated>2007-06-20T15:14:51Z</updated>
    <category term="slash_100"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <content type="html">I've been gone for a couple of weeks cause my computer was getting fixed. But it's fixed now&amp;I'm back....with a new story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt; When I Get Home You're So Dead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt; me, newerections&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt; PG-13ish for language&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Prompty:&lt;/b&gt; 20. Her @ &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-C     "  data-ljuser="slash_100" lj:user="slash_100" &gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.png?v=556&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;slash_100&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt; Pete Wentz/Ryan Ross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;"...Baby you weren't the first or the last or the worst. The moral this time is, girls make boys cry."&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt; Faker than the weapons of mass destruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;When I Get Home, You're So Dead&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, baby, don't stop...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan had always wondered what it was like to feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach and now he knew. It was a sick, sinking feeling that made his knees weak, his vision blurry, and his head ache. It was worse than falling from the a thirty story building. It left the sense of dread and pain. It made it hard to breathe.  It was the perfect feeling for the moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There in &lt;i&gt;his&lt;/i&gt; bed in &lt;i&gt;his&lt;/i&gt; apartment, was his girlfriend of over a year, beneath the sweat drenched body of some dude he'd never met, moaning and screaming like there was no tomorrow. His heart pounded inside his chest and he was blinded with rage and hurt. His breath came in heavy pants and he placed his hand over his heart, trying to calm himself. He was shaking, fighting to keep himself from tearing the place apart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it wasn't worth it. &lt;i&gt;She&lt;/i&gt; wasn't worth it. She wasn't the world to him. And as he stood in the doorway of his bedroom, watching the two quickly scramble around trying to gather their clothes, she was &lt;i&gt;nothing&lt;/i&gt; to him. And he bet that she was nothing to the dude she'd been fucking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She quickly ran to Ryan and touched his shoulder lightly. He snatched away, glaring at her and the man who was jumping back into his jeans. She began to babble, trying to explain what was going on, pointing the finger at Ryan for him being gone so long, claiming she still loved him. Ryan chuckled simply in disbelief. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Get out." His voice was calm and steady, though his heart was still beating hard and fast in his ears and his hands had balled up into tight fists. She protested, grabbing his hands, and begged him to forgive her. He shook his head. He averted his attention back to the man jamming his foot into a sneaker. "I hope it was worth it," Ryan said simply. He pulled out of her hold and walked across the room to the closet. With determination, he quickly took all of her clothes of the closet and made his way to the front door of the apartment with her on his heels, asking him questions, begging him to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He threw open the door and tossed her clothes out into the hallway. He pointed to the door, gesturing for her to leave. She said he couldn't do this, he still loved her. But she was wrong. He could do whatever the hell he wanted and he had no more love for her. He thought he did, but it was gone. She was a simple whore and he could and was determined to find better. "Get out," he repeated. The man noticed the flames of anger dancing in Ryan's eyes and shuffled out of the apartment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stared at him in pure shock. He had always been so forgiving. But he was done with that. Done with &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt;. She sighed, tears flowing down her cheeks. With one last look back, she left the apartment. Ryan slammed the door shut behind her. He stood there for a few minutes, his eyes fixed on the door, his mind focusing on what he'd just done. She was a liar and a cheater. She had hurt him. And now she was gone. What they had was gone. And he felt like dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan collapsed onto the couch. Realization began to sink in and he began to sob. The pedestal on which he had stood had just crumbled from beneath him and he was falling fast. He planted his face into one of the throw pillows. He yelled in frustration and continued to cry, the material of the pillow absorbing his tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He needed to pull himself together. But more than anything, he needed someone to talk to. He pulled his cell phone out of his backpack and speed dialed a friend. Pete picked up on the second ring. "Hey, Ryan, what's up?" He said and Ryan could hear his TV in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan shifted on the couch and sniffled. "Pete, can you come over?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a knock on the front door no more than twenty minutes later. "It's open!" Ryan called from the couch, feeling the desire to remain stationery on the couch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete swore as he walked into the dark apartment, bumping his side on a table. He turned on the lamp. A frown crossed his handsome face at the sight of Ryan sprawled across his couch, his face buried into a pillow. He sighed and made his way over to his close friend. He touched Ryan's hair and carefully lifted Ryan's upper body and the pillow up from the couch before slipping beneath Ryan. Ryan whimpered, resting his head in Pete's lap. Pete rubbed his back and caressed his neck, trying to soothe the younger man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She was cheating on," Ryan informed him. "I kicked her out. I don't want to see her ever again." He sniffled. He had calmed down a little and Pete's presence reminded him of all the potential there was. "I thought she loved me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry about it, Ryan. There are other people. People that would do anything for you. People that would never hurt you like that. You'll find someone that truly loves you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Someone like you, Pete?" Ryan rolled over onto his back and stared up at the other man. Pete smiled, but didn't say anything. He hadn't expected Ryan to say that, but it warmed him up and his smile gave Ryan hope. "I don't need her. She wasn't the first and she won't be the last." He closed his eyes. "I love you, Pete."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love you, too, Ryan."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I mean it, Pete. I really &lt;i&gt;love&lt;/i&gt; you." Ryan spoke from his heart. This had nothing to do with the woman who he'd kicked out earlier. He had always loved Pete. Not like a friend, not a like a brother, much more than that. Maybe he still loved her, deep down, beneath his anger and pain, but Pete, Pete had his &lt;i&gt;heart&lt;/i&gt;. He was &lt;i&gt;in love&lt;/i&gt; with Pete. He needed Pete, not &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know, Ryan." Pete leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Ryan's lips. He stroked Ryan's cheek. "I'm gonna fix this, Ryan. You're never going to hurt again. I'll put your heart back together. I'll be your everything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan had always wondered what it was like to have your heart flutter and now he knew. It made everything that had hurt him in the past insignificant. It cleared his head. It gave him a sweet, warmth inside. It made his lips curl into a smile. It made everything better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name='cutid1-end'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;big&gt;Comments are like the best birthday gift for a writer [today is my b-day if you care :D]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:6641</id>
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    <title>Never Knew You Were So Much Fun 05</title>
    <published>2007-04-10T02:27:04Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-10T02:31:10Z</updated>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <category term="never knew you were so much fun"/>
    <lj:music>&lt;i&gt;Higinia&lt;/i&gt;;Bless the Fall</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I thought I'd never finish this shit. Almost gave up on it, but I finally got my head straight. Now I'm in a better mood. I might not be updating as often cause school &amp; whatnot :]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Never Knew You Were So Much Fun [05/?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Mature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Pete Wentz / Ryan Ross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;POV:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; First person [Ryan]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan needs a little saving. He's abused by his fiancé and he can't seem to escape the prison he's in, but then he meets &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; This is fake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; I have a love for Ryan and Pete and abuse stories :D &amp;the &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;him&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; is pretty much introduced in this chapter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dedication:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Thanks so much to everyone whose read this and left me feedback. Big shouts to &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="damnpetewentz" lj:user="damnpetewentz" &gt;&lt;a href="https://damnpetewentz.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://damnpetewentz.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;damnpetewentz&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="kissedeyelids" lj:user="kissedeyelids" &gt;&lt;a href="https://kissedeyelids.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://kissedeyelids.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;kissedeyelids&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="kagnomi" lj:user="kagnomi" &gt;&lt;a href="https://kagnomi.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://kagnomi.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;kagnomi&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I appreciate you guys trying to help me when I had writer's block. I probably wouldn't have finished this chapter without you guys :]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/1430.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;01&lt;/a&gt;&amp;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/1570.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;02&lt;/a&gt;&amp;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/2494.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;03&lt;/a&gt;&amp;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/4086.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;04&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Never Knew You Were So Much Fun&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 05: What Do You Want From Me?&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy wakes me up for breakfast just before nine. The blankets are still pulled over my head, the fresh scent of Downy filling my nostrils. “I’ve got breakfast ready downstairs,” Daddy says, his voice muffled by my covers. I sigh, feeling little desire to move from my spot in bed. “Ryan, I know you’re awake. Are you listening to me, son?” When I don’t respond, I feel the blankets and sheet pulled off and away from my body and I hear them land softly on the carpet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shiver. “Daddy!” I groan. I open my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Get up, sleepy head.” He smiles as I push myself up from the bed. I kick my legs over the side of the bed, Daddy pats my bare back gently. “I’ll see you downstairs,” he says before leaving the guest bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I flop back down onto the bed and run my hand through my messy hair.  I sigh. It’s been a few days since I left the apartment and my heart is calling for Pete. My heart’s forgiven him and it’s missing him so much, but I’m not mentally ready to go back yet. Every time I get the urge to pick up the phone when he calls, that night replays in my head, stopping and rewinding and I break down all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom hasn’t said much to me since I made the decision to extend my stay here rather than go back home to Pete. She’s been shooting me dirty looks and hinting at the wedding and Pete ever since. Daddy, on the other hand, has been doing everything in his ability to keep my mind off Pete and my body away from. He’s had some activity for the both of us to do together every day and he’s been slamming the phone down in Pete’s face every time he calls the house and I don’t bother to even try to answer his calls on my cell phone when Daddy’s around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With some effort, I drag myself down the hall to the bathroom and into a warm shower. I dry off and slip into some clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy’s sitting at the kitchen table with this morning’s newspaper in hand, a cup of coffee and a plate full of pancakes in front of him when I get to the kitchen. Mom sits across from him, flipping through the pages of a bridal magazine. Daddy looks up at me from his paper. “Took you long enough,” he says with a wink. I smile and take a seat in one of the empty chairs. Mom slides a plate of sausage and pancakes over to me. I thank her and she returns to the magazine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ryan,” she begins after I stuff a small piece of sausage into my mouth. “I think we should add a splash of pink to the wedding rather than blue. It brings out your skin tone as well as Peter’s.” Her lips curl into a smile as my father almost spits out his coffee. My throat dries and I swallow hard, feeling the atmosphere grow heavy with tension immediately. I open and close my mouth, unsure of what to say. The idea sounds nice, but I can’t say that. Daddy will flip. He can barely stand the mention of Pete’s name and I highly doubt he wants hear the plans for our wedding that he thinks should be called off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ryan is not marrying that man. I wish you’d just realize that,” Daddy says with a contemptuous look. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“And I wish you’d stop trying to make his decision for him. He’s a big boy now, George.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy narrows his eyes, “You should practice what you preach.” Daddy raises his voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Daddy, please, calm down,” I say softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glances at my hand, then quickly shrugs it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t take that tone with me, George. That man loves your son and your son loves him. Peter’s made a few mistakes, who hasn’t? He’s the best thing that’s happened to Ryan. A mother knows what’s best for her child. And Peter Wentz &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;is&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; what’s best.” She leans back in the wooden chair, folding her arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So you’re going to let your son marry a man that beats him? That is not what’s best for Ryan. He doesn’t need that and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom grabs my hand suddenly and holds it up. “Ryan knows what’s good for him. Isn’t it obvious?” She gestures to the engagement ring still on my finger. She lets my hand go and raises an eyebrow at Daddy, waiting for his response. He closes his eyes, and then reopens them, expressing a look of irritation and defeat. He quickly stands from the table and storms out of the kitchen. Mom smirks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mom, was that necessary? Did you have to say that to him?” I ask, my head throbbing painfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her smirks fades away and she gives my hand a gently squeeze. “Ryan, I now you still love this man and I know you’ve been missing him. I can see it in your eyes and your father sees it, too.” She stands and kisses the top of my head. “You don’t need to be here,” she says softly. “Go back home to the man you love.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I can see it in your eyes. Go back to the man you love.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom’s seemingly motherly words are still ringing in my ear, my mind still thinking them over as I park my car in the Food City lot. It’s past noon and Daddy hasn’t spoken to me since breakfast. Unsure of any other way to east the tension in my parent’s house, I decided to cook dinner for both of them tonight. I just need to pick up a few things from the grocery store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grab a shopping cart from the front of the store and make my way to the produce section.  I pick up a head of lettuce and a few tomatoes after examining them carefully. I grab some potatoes and some other stuff for a salad before heading off to the meat. I run a hand through my hair, thinking. Steak, chicken, or seafood? I settle for a few pounds of shrimp and lobster and trout for Mom and a package of chicken for Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A guy around my age walks up beside me as I wait for my seafood order. He examines the meat on display and then his eyes find their way to me. His eyes are dark, but warm, and they seem familiar, but I can’t remember why I recognize him. His thin lips curl up into a smile and I wrack my brain. I’ve seen these eyes and these lips before. I smile slowly. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I ask, curiosity getting the best f me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His smile widens. “From the restaurant last week, I was your waiter that night.” I nod slowly, remembering him and his flirtatiousness and the mess it caused and then what happened that night with Pete flashes in my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shake the thought immediately and focus back to this guy. “I remember,” I say slowly. What else am I supposed to say? That I’ll never forget that night and I wish I hadn’t seen him because it brings back painful memories? Or maybe how I found his smile so adorable and I how his warm eyes make me want to melt? And I can’t believe I’m thinking this. Pete’s the only man I’ve ever felt so attracted to and I don’t even know this guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m Jack Marin,” he disrupts my thoughts, extending his hand and I shake it briefly, wondering if he felt that strange electric shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m Ryan…R-Ryan Ross.” I almost forgot my name. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m in love with another man and this guy’s got my heart pounding inside my chest with nervousness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I know,” he says, still smiling. I realize how dumb I must have sounded. Of course he knows who I am. There are few people our age in this city that don’t know who I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blush and I’m glad when the butcher guy clears his throat, letting me know my order’s ready. I take the three small bags from him and place them in my cart. I turn back to the guy, Jack. “Well, it was nice see you again,” I say. He nods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, same here.” I smile and turn away. “See you around!” He calls as I begin to push my cart toward the dairy products. I turn back to wave and he’s still smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grab my eggs and milk from the fridge before finding myself on the aisle with the cake mixes, debating between chocolate and carrot. Hearing the sound of a shopping cart behind me, I turn slowly, seeing Jack coming in my direction. He stops, picking up a box. I put both mixes in my basket. After picking up some salad dressing, I realize that Jack is trailing behind me. When I reach the register, he’s still behind me. With some courage, I finally ask, “Are you following me?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He puts his hands up as if in surrender. He grins. “You caught me,” he says, unabashed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t help but to laugh. “May I ask why?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Cause I think you’re cute,” he begins and my face grows hot. “And I’d like to take you out some time.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart skips a beat for some reason. I smile nervously. “Thanks,” I begin, “but I’m engaged. Sorry.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His smile doesn’t fade though, but grows instead. “Too bad for him.” He smirks slightly and I think his cockiness is kind of cute. I start putting my groceries on the conveyor belt and Jack helps me. I shake my head and apologize again. He sighs in what I assume is defeat, but his eyes light up. “Well, can we at least exchange numbers? You know for some friendly conversations…” he says. “…late at night, with no clothes on.” He winks. The cashier greets me and begins to ring up my items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t know you.” I come up with some excuse finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, I’m Jack Marin. I’m 21. I play bass guitar. I just left my band. I’m a waiter at CiCi’s. I live in an apartment downtown. I have a fat cat named Stumpy. I love your band and I happen to think you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our eyes meet and I can his sincerity. I feel the tips of my ears reddening. Now it’s my turn to sigh in defeat and I feel a bit more interested and attracted to him. “Do you have a pen or something?” I ask, giving in. He shoves his hand into his front pocket and pulls out a Sidekick 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Here,” he places it in my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I punch in my cell number and save it. I hand it back to him and he touches my hand lightly before taking it. “I’ll see you around, Ryan Ross.” He winks at me again before heading off in the opposite direction. I put my bagged items in the shopping cart and hand the cashier a couple of bills to pay for everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small smile crosses my face as I start up my car back in the parking lot, remembering Jack’s persistence. I slap myself mentally. What in the hell is wrong with me? Giving random guys my number? Pete would have a fit he found out. My Adam’s apple bobs in my throat with slight guilt and I miss Pete even more. I heave a sigh and step on the gas pedal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within ten minutes, I’m back at my parents’ house. Daddy’s working on his old Chevy when I get back and he bitterly states that Mom’s out in her garden, planting roses. I let them both know not to worry about dinner tonight and receive shrugs from both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulling on my mother’s ‘kiss the cook’ apron I start up dinner. The phone rings nearly an hour later as I’m mixing the cake batter, my sleeves rolled up, dough and sauce on the apron. I quickly rinse my hands before picking the receiver up. “Hello?” I say in a polite voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ryan?” I recognize Pete’s voice immediately and the phone almost slips out of my hand. My heart beat speeds up and I realize I haven’t heard his voice in days. I didn’t know I’d missed it so much. “Ryan? It’s me, it’s Pete.” His voice seems far away and it shakes a little. I can almost hear the pain in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“P-Pete, I’m busy right now. Maybe you should call back later,” I say coldly, putting up a wall before I give in again. I’m supposed to be mad at him. He needs to know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ryan, baby, please, I miss you so much. I’m so sorry. You don’t know how good it is to hear your voice. Please, baby, talk to me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take a deep breath, keeping myself from spilling out how much I’ve missed him and how much I need to be in his arms right now and how I forgive him. “I gotta go, Pete,” I say quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I love you, Ryan” is all I hear before I hang up the phone, ending the brief conversation. I exhale slowly, leaning my head against the cool refrigerator door, doing everything in my ability to keep myself from breaking down right now. I don’t need this right now. I bite down on my lower lip, tears threatening to break free. Get it together, Ross. Remember what Mom said when she left Daddy and didn’t return for weeks after an argument when you were younger. &lt;i&gt;Absence makes the heart grow fonder&lt;/i&gt;. I sure in the hell hope so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within an hour the dining room table is set and my parents are thanking me for taking the time to cook them dinner. I feel the tension in the air ease a little as we say grace and begin to eat. There’s conversation here and there about the neighbors and adding a Jacuzzi in the backyard. I smile to myself, hoping I had increased the peace in the house. I clear the table when our plates are scraped clean of the chocolate cake I made and wash the dishes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I change into my pajamas when I reach the guest bedroom and lay back atop the comforter. My cell phone rings from inside my pants pocket and I move from my spot on the bed to answer it, hoping to God that it isn’t Pete. I don’t know what I’ll say if it’s him again. But it’s not Pete. I don’t even recognize the number. “Hello?” I answer with a hint of uncertainty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hi, is this Ryan?” the person on the other line asks and I try to recognize their voice through the large amount of static and noise in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Who’s calling?” I ask politely, raising an eyebrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This is Jack, Jack Marin.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nod my head slowly, remembering I’d given him my number earlier this afternoon. “Hi, Jack,” I finally say after a moment of silence. “This is Ryan.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hey,” he greets me again. “What’s goin’ on?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Not much. How about you?” I fiddle with the drawstring of my conversation, keeping my antsy hands busy as I hold the phone between my ear and shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The same, ya know just watching some TV.” He pauses for a second. “Are you busy tomorrow morning? I was thinking maybe we could get some coffee or something and grab some breakfast. I know this really great café with the best cinnamon rolls…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile hesitantly. Is he asking me out? I can’t yes if he is. I know what Pete did to me, but I’m not a cheater. I never have been. I hope I never will be. “Um, Jack, I don’t know. I just met you and all and I am engaged….”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear him groan softly. “I know, I know. But it’s not going to be a date. I think you’re an okay guy and I’ve been told I’m not so bad myself. I see no harm in us just being friends. I’m not a stalker or anything if that’s what you think.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No, no,” I say softly. “That’s not it at all. I just…” I just what? I don’t even know anymore. There is no harm in us just being friends, even if we’re both attracted to each other. I inhale slowly. “Never mind. That’s fine. What time would you like to meet and where?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hear the smile in his voice as he tells me nine o’ clock and gives the address of his favorite café. We say goodbye to each other and I hang up my cell phone. I try to convince myself that nothing will happen between me and this guy because my only intention is making a new friend. I repeat it out loud and my cell phone begins to ring again. It can’t be Jack. I hope it is. Maybe he’s decided to cancel our plans for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it’s not Jack. “Hello?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“R-Ryan, it’s Pete,” his voice is shakier than before and he sniffles a little. I can tell he’s been crying and my heart melts at the thought of it being over me. “I just, I just want to apologize…for what I did to you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just want you to forgive me and take me back. I miss you so much. I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to spend the rest of my life without you.” He begins to sob over the phone and my stomach clinches painfully. Tears fill the brim of my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete, please, don’t cry,” I try to soothe him, speaking in a soft, calm voice. “Everything’s going to be okay. We can talk about this. Just calm down.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ryan, I can’t live without you. You’re my everything. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. I’d give up everything for you. Fame, music, money. I can’t be happy without you, Ryan. I love you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hand trembles around my phone and my breath catches in my throat. “Pete…” I half moan, half sigh. “I love you, too.” The weight on my heart seems to be lifted when the words slip from my lips. “Just, hold on, Pete. Hold on for me, Pete.” I hang up the phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My breath comes in heavy pants as I lie back on the bed. I stare up at the speckled white, unchanging ceiling. My mind is racing. I press my palm to my forehead, feeling the tension head ache already. My heart is screaming at me, telling me to go back home to piece things back together, but my mind is telling me otherwise. &lt;i&gt;Follow your heart&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slip back into the jeans and T-shirt I had on earlier today and shove my feet into my Vans. I scramble downstairs to the front door, passing the den. I grab my car keys from the hooks near the door and Daddy’s booming voice stops me in my tracks. “Where are you going?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I poke my head inside the dark room where he sits, reading a paperback in the dim light. “Daddy, don’t be angry, please,” I begin. He looks over to me, his eyes searching my face for an explanation. “Pete, he…” I trail off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Go,” he says sternly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep my mouth from gaping open. “What?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Go,” he restates. “Your mother was right. You know what’s good for you, Ryan. You still love that boy and no one can change that. I just hope you’re making the right decision, son.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile a little. I walk over to the couch and kiss him softly on the cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.” He nods solemnly and says he’ll see me later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The apartment’s dark and is filled with an eerie silence. My hand roams up and down the wall, searching for the light switch. I find it and flip it up, blinking to adjust to the sudden brightness. I look around. It’s a mess. Papers and bottles and other miscellaneous objects litter the floor, the dishes are piled up in the sink and food is scattered on the marble countertop. “Pete?” I call, stepping over the trash on the floor as I make my way toward the bedroom we shared. I close my eyes. Don’t panic. He’s fine. I say his name again when he doesn’t respond the first time. This time I hear a small sniffle. The rest of the apartment is dark and I push open the bedroom door that been left ajar. “Pete, where are you?” I turn on the bedroom light, scanning the room. Unmade bed, clothes thrown onto the floor, no Pete. “Baby?” Another sniffle…outside? I look across the room to the open sliding glass door that leads out to the balcony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart drops to my stomach. It’s a sick feeling. My eyes widen and my mouth drops open. There’s Pete, in the corner, leaning against the steel railing. His eyes are glassy and his face is tear-streaked. In his left hand is his cell phone and in his right is a .45 that’s pointed a little too close to his temple for my liking. I gasp, my lips dry. “Pete.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks to me. His hand shakes terribly and his chin trembles. “Ryan,” he cries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, God, Pete.” I quickly move over to him and sit beside him. He drops the gun when I wrap my arms around his body and pull him to me. He buries his face into my neck and sobs, his tears dampening my skin and shirt. I feel myself shake as I hug him tighter to me and I let my own tears fall. He mumbles how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean to hurt me into my neck and I just nod. I kiss the top of his head. “Don’t do this again, Pete. Don’t scare me like this again. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” It’s the truth. What would I have done if Pete had pulled that trigger?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen minutes pass and I start to shiver in the cool breeze that’s picked up. Pete’s stopped crying and he’s just mumbling apologies into my chest through heavy breaths. “Pete, baby, let’s go inside before we freeze to death.” He nods and I help him stand to his feet. Our eyes lock and I can’t even describe the intensity. He looks so pitiful. I’ve never seen him this way before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take his hand and lead him back into the bedroom. I help him undress and I slip out of my own clothes. He crawls under the sheets beside me and kisses me lightly on the lips. I kiss him back slowly and he strokes my cheek. I don’t mutter a word as his hand wanders into the front of my boxers. I sigh softly and let him pull me on top of him. “Ryan, make love to me,” he whispers in my ear, his voice hot and thick. I do as I’m told and he writhes beneath my body as I push into him. We orgasm simultaneously and he breathes I love you’s between pants in my arms. I tell him I love him back and he snuggles up to my chest. I stroke his hair and rub his back until he falls asleep in my arms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can barely fucking believe this.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;b&gt;comments make me go =D [this will be locked when it's finished, so add this journal and whatnot]&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;small&gt;that was &lt;i&gt;effin&lt;/i&gt; long, don't ya think?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/small&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:6291</id>
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    <title>I think I'm gonna fall off the face of the earth :[[</title>
    <published>2007-04-09T02:59:34Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-09T02:59:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Ehhh. I need some motivation right about now. I haven't updated Never Knew in over a week&amp;I wrote like 3/4 of the 5th chapter, but then I realized I have no idea what I'm going to do with this story. Ugh. I don't even know if I want to keep writing it anymore. I read through the comments y'allz left on previous chapters&amp;I felt uber bad about just giving up on the story :[[ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I might have caught a bad case of writer's block. The last time I got writer's block like this I didn't write for like six months. Someone get me out of this rut, &lt;b&gt;please&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I really need some writer's block remedy&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:5094</id>
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    <title>Wait and See If You Choose Something Like Me</title>
    <published>2007-04-03T23:18:14Z</published>
    <updated>2007-06-20T18:24:09Z</updated>
    <category term="slash_100"/>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt; Wait and See If You Choose Something Like Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt; me, newerections :]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt; Mature-ish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Prompt:&lt;/b&gt; 088. Lost at &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-C     "  data-ljuser="slash_100" lj:user="slash_100" &gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.png?v=556&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;slash_100&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt; Pete Wentz / Ryan Ross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;"...But he doesn’t have a home to go to and he hasn’t eaten in days. He could use the extra cash."&lt;/i&gt; Ryan's a teenage prostitute and Pete's a cute cashier at a cafe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt; This never happened&amp;chances are it never will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Wait and See If You Choose Something Like Me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sighs, running a hand through his sandy brown hair. He’s been standing on the corner for five minutes, but it feels like hours. He wants to get out of the cold and go home. But he doesn’t have a home to go to and he hasn’t eaten in days. He could use the extra cash. His hand slips into the front pocket of his skin tight jeans, retrieving a pack of Marlboros. He shakes the pack a little and his last cigarette falls into the palm of his hand. He tosses the empty pack onto the sidewalk. He lets the cigarette hang between his lips as he searches his pockets for a lighter. A groan slips from his lips when he finds his lighter that’s empty. God, he hopes someone pulled up soon. He could use another pack of cigarettes and a working lighter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he waits impatiently, leaning against the pole of the traffic light, he wonders what he’s doing here. He’s barely sixteen, not even old enough to be holding a cigarette. He should be in school or off somewhere studying. He should be somewhere safe. But he’s not. He’s stuck on the streets, broke and homeless, trying to find a desperate john. He wasn’t a runaway. He’d been kicked out by his “loving” parents months ago when he came out. Their baby boy, he was such a disappointment. Where had they gone wrong? Were all their efforts to bring him up right wasted? Was he as disgusting and pathetic and unworthy as they made him seem? He didn’t have a family anymore, no one to love him. All he has to turn to is the streets, the cold bitter streets with their cold, staring eyes and clammy, hands that would turn their back on him as quick as they had opened their arms to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His thoughts are disrupted by the shiny, black Camaro that pulls along the curb. The guy in the car rolls down the passenger window as he approaches the car. The guy smiles, lust twinkling in his dark, bloodshot eyes. “You need a ride, kid?” He asks his voice deep and husky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He forces a small smile to his face and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He leans down to the car, taking a good look at the guy and the car. Sleek, clean leather seats, nice sized backseat. The guy’s in his early 30s. He’s probably got a wife and kids at home waiting for him. He’s got a ring on his finger. He needs a shave and a mint to tame the alcohol on his breath that can be smelled feet away from him. “Sure,” he accepts the offer with a decisive sigh. He hates doing this, but how else is he going to get around?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The john leans and opens the passenger door from the inside. He slides into the passenger seat and shuts the door. He stares down at his lap as the guy steps on the gas. He’s nervous. It’s not like it’s his first time, but he always gets nervous. Fear pumps inside him at the thought of this guy being an undercover cop or something. He’d been so desperate for a couple of bucks that he’d completely forgotten to ask. He mentally slaps himself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turns, feeling the guy’s eyes on the side of the face. “You all right?” the john asks and he nods slowly, trying to reassure the guy before he changes his mind and finds some other trick to satisfy him. The guy smiles, turning the corner. “What’s your name?” He asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turns to the man in the driver seat. Why is he so concerned? “Ryan,” he answers anyway. The guy nods, not bothering to introduce himself. Ryan stares out of the window. “Go to the alley beside Tommy’s,” he instructs. At this time in the afternoon, no one would notice them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The john parks where Ryan tells him to and his move immediately moves from the steering wheel to Ryan’s face, cupping his cheek gently. He leans in close for a kiss and Ryan pulls back. He taps the dashboard. “Cash first, hon’,” he enforces the basic rule. The guy smirks. He slips his wallet out of his pocket and tosses a twenty dollar bill onto the dashboard. Ryan smiles.  “You ready to have some fun now, baby?” He asks, seductively, licking his lips, selling himself. He kisses the older man lightly on the cheek. The man nods and Ryan’s hand moves to the man’s belt buckle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He shivers, wrapping his arms around his thin body. The cold, bitter wind stings his face as he trudges along the dirty sidewalk, night quickly falling around him. His eyes watch the grey pavement, his head down, scruffy old Vans scraping along the cement. He spits; a disgusting, salty taste still in his mouth from the last john. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finds himself scrunched up in a small glass telephone booth outside a diner he frequented when he had the cash. His index finger trembles as it punches the silver buttons and he’s surprised he still remembers the number. He places the receiver to his ear and waits. Ring. Ring. Ring. He’s ready to hang up and then the ringing stops. There’s static in the background. “Hello?” The soft feminine voice on the other end sends a warm feeling through his body. “Ross residence.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His jaw trembles a little. His mouth opens and closes before he finds the words. “M-mom? This is Ryan, your son, Ryan?” The other line is silent except for the slight crackle. “Are you still there?” He finally asks after what seems like an eternity of no response. Click. “Hello? Hello? Mom?” His voice cracks, tears burst from his eyes. He hangs the receiver up. He leans against the dirty glass wall of the booth, his breath coming in heavy pants. He sobs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s he going to do? He can’t stay on the streets forever. What has be become? A whore, a dirty whore, who could barely afford scraps of food with the profit he made. He wasn’t Ryan Ross anymore. He didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know where he stood anymore. He didn’t know where he was going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling a headache coming on. He needs a place to stay for the night. He opens his eyes and wipes away the tears. He takes a deep breath, calming himself a little. He’s fine. He’ll be fine. He doesn’t need them. He doesn’t need anyone. He can make it on his own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete hands the smiling, teenaged girl the cinnamon dolce latte she ordered. “Have a nice evening,” he says, expressing his customer service skills. The girl thanks him and mumbles a ‘you’ too, taking her coffee and leaving the small café. He glances at the small clock on the wall above the blender. Fifteen minutes until his shift is over and he can return home to his sofa and his Lifetime movies. Realizing he doesn’t have any other customers to serve he lies his head down on the countertop. He could use some rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone clears their throat. Pete looks up abruptly. His cheeks redden in embarrassment upon seeing a young boy standing in front of the register, waiting for Pete to take his order. He almost gasps after taking one look at the boy in front of him. He’s gorgeous, though he looks like he could use a good night’s sleep and a decent meal. His hair is a sandy brown and one of his warm brown eyes is obscured by his neatly combed bangs. His lips are full, his eyes lined heavily in black, and his body thin. He’s clad in a small pink T-shirt beneath a tight black hoodie and skinny ripped blue jeans hug his small hips tightly.  Pete gives him an abashed smile. “Sorry about that,” he says, still blushing. “It’s been a long day.” The boy nods simply, looking as if he could say the same thing. “How can I help you?” Pete asks, trying to sound as professional as possible and restraining himself from flirting with this kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid thinks for a second. “Mmm. A small mocha frappuccino, please?” He says softly and his voice makes Pete want to melt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sure thing.” Pete smiles. He gives the boy his total and takes the five dollar bill he hands him. Pete gives him his receipt and change and watches the kid settle into one of the comfy, suede chairs beside the windows. After a few minutes, Pete calls out, “Small mocha frappuccino!” The boy looks up from the magazine he’d been flipping through and approaches the counter. Pete slips the plastic cup into a cardboard sleeve and hands it to him. The kid mumbles a thank you and their eyes lock. Pete’s heart sinks at the look of sadness in the boy’s eyes that he hadn’t seen earlier. He smiles. “Have a good evening.” The boy nods and turns away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete watches him wander out into the night. He prays that the kid makes it home safely and asks God to give the kid something to make his eyes light up with joy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;So yeah. I dunno. I think I'm going to make a second part to this. Hopefully you guys liked it. And I hope it fits the prompt :] Lemme know what you think. btw, add this journal for updates if you haven't already :D&lt;/b&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:4765</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/4765.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4765"/>
    <title>Movie Parody?</title>
    <published>2007-04-03T21:48:35Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-03T21:48:35Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Okay, so, I've seen a few stories based off movies before, and I kinda feel like writing my own. I'm just not sure what movie and with what people. So, yeah, I need some input from all 101 of you :D &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Movie&amp;Musician suggestions please?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and, chapter 05 of Never Knew &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;should&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; be up by the end of week. It's taking me forever ://&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, thanks in advance guys. i'd really appreciate if you could this this for me</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:4104</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/4104.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4104"/>
    <title>table</title>
    <published>2007-03-20T01:51:55Z</published>
    <updated>2011-07-23T19:48:37Z</updated>
    <category term="slash_100"/>
    <content type="html">i gots my own table, y'all :]]&lt;br /&gt;lol.&lt;br /&gt;it's for my Ryan/Pete claim at &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-C     "  data-ljuser="slash_100" lj:user="slash_100" &gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.png?v=556&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://slash-100.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;slash_100&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="2" cellpadding="3" border="2"&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;001.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Beginnings.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;002.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Middles.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;003.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ends.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;004.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Firsts.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;005.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lasts.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;006.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hours.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;007.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Days.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;008.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Weeks.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;009.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Months.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;010.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Years.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;011.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Friends.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;012.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Enemies.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;013.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lovers.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;014.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Strangers.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;015.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Classmates.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;016.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Family.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;017.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Parents.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;018.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Children.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;019.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Him.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;020.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/7267.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/7267.html" target="_blank"&gt;Her&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;021.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Birth.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;022.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Death.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;023.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Life.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;024.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Choices.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;025.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/10939.html" target="_blank"&gt;Accident&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;026.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Smell.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;027.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sound.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;028.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Touch.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;029.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Taste.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;030.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sight.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;031.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sunrise.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;032.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sunset.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;033.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Too Much.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;034.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Not Enough.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;035.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Mask.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;036.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Breakfast.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;037.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lunch.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;038.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Dinner.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;039.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Food.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;040.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Drink.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;041.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Rain.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;042.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Snow.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;043.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lightning.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;044.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Thunder.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;045.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Storm.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;046.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Winter.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;047.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Summer.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;048.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Spring.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;049.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fall.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;050.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Vacation.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;051.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Humor.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;052.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Angst.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;053.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fluff.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;054.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;And.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;055.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;If.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;056.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Birthday.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;057.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Christmas.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;058.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Thanksgiving.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;059.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Halloween.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;060.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;New Year.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;061.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/8296.html" target="_blank"&gt;Broken.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;062.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Shattered.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;063.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hurt.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;064.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Agony.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;065.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Healing.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;066.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Anger.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;067.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Love.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;068.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Loss.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;069.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Jealousy.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;070.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Denial.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;071.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sex.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;072.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Kink.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;073.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Threesome.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;074.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Seduction.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;075.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Party.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;076.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Secrets&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;077.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Betrayal&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;078.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Discovery&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;079.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Confession&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;080.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Redemption&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;081.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;School&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;082.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Work&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;083.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/8026.html" target="_blank"&gt;Home&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;084.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;High&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;085.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Low&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;086.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Circle.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;087.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Heart.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;088.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/5094.html" target="_blank"&gt;Lost.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;089.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Found.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;090.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Missing.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;091.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Epiphany.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;092.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Dream.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;093.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Break-up.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;094.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Make-up.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;095.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lies.&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;096.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/7543.html" target="_blank"&gt;Writer‘s Choice&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;097.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;i&gt;Writer‘s Choice.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;098.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;i&gt;Writer‘s Choice.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;099.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;i&gt;Writer‘s Choice.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td&gt;100.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;i&gt;Writer‘s Choice.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:4086</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/4086.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4086"/>
    <title>Never Knew You Were So Much Fun 04</title>
    <published>2007-03-19T23:29:05Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-09T00:55:41Z</updated>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <category term="never knew you were so much fun"/>
    <lj:music>&lt;i&gt;Discovering the Waterfront&lt;/i&gt;;Silverstein</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Dayummm. I didn't think this was going to take me so long to write, but I guess it did. I've had a lot on my mind lately. It's given me a lot of story ideas though :D We're learning about eating disorders and such in Health, so that's probably gonna be featured in my next story. Well, yeah. Enjoy this. I don't like it so much. Feedback is welcome and appreciated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Never Knew You Were So Much Fun [04/?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Mature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Pete Wentz / Ryan Ross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;POV:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; First person [Ryan]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan needs a little saving. He's abused by his fiancé and he can't seem to escape the prison he's in, but then he meets &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; This is fake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; I have a love for Ryan and Pete and abuse stories :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/1430.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;01&lt;/a&gt;&amp;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/1570.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;02&lt;/a&gt;&amp;&lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/2494.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;03&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Never Knew You Were So Much Fun&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Chapter 04: Vision Blurred&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s almost twin in the morning when I wake up and Pete’s gone. His car keys are gone and the apartment is dark and quiet. I don’t know where he’s gone to and right now I don’t really care. He’s the last person I want to see right now. I pull an old overnight back out of the closet in the front room and head back to the bedroom. I turn on the light and begin pulling clothes out of my closet and dresser and shoving them into the bag. My body is sore and aching all over and I still feel indescribably filthy despite my hour long soak in the tub earlier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t stay here. I don’t know what else Pete is capable of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears flood my eyes as I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, realization sinking in slowly. My heart is pounding in my ears, fear coursing through me. I can’t believe I’m so afraid of him. He beat me and he raped me. He can’t love me and I don’t know how I can love him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grab my own car keys from the kitchen and trot downstairs to my car parked outside the apartment complex. I toss my backpack into the back seat of my black Chrysler and climb into the driver’s seat. I drive around the neighborhood for almost thirty minutes under the speed limit, unsure of where I’m going and my mind racing. Where am I gonna go? What’s Pete going to do when he comes back home and I’m not there? Why did he do this to me? Why would he want to hurt me so much? I realize I’ve never been so angry and emotional in my life. I hadn’t deserved what he did to me, nobody did. I hadn’t done anything wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of my mind is telling me to just leave Pete, call off the wedding, and stay away from him. I don’t need to be with anyone that who feels the need to abuse me. But the other part of my brain, the forgiving part of me, is reminding me of how much I love this man and all that he’s done for me and the band. He’s been under a lot of stress with his job and the wedding and he practically takes care of me. The least I could do is be a good boyfriend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, accidentally running a red light. My eyes itch with tiredness and I need to get some rest. I can’t go to Brendon, Jon, or Spencer’s places. They’ll ask me questions and I don’t think I can handle retelling what happened or coming up with a story to tell them. I yawn. I’ve only got one option left besides a hotel, which I don’t have the money for, seeing that I left my wallet at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stop my car and park it in the driveway of the large white tow-story house that I bought my parents last year. I throw my backpack over my shoulder and I find myself on the porch, pressing my finger to the doorbell. I still have a spare key to the house, but I ring the bell twice anyway. I turn to leave and head back to the apartment when I don’t receive a response after another try. But I hear footsteps inside nearing the front door and the large wooden door creaks open, causing me to stop in my tracks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ryan?” I turn around at the familiar voice to see my father in the doorway, squinting at me. A warm feeling fills my body as a grin spreads across his face and he opens his arms to me. We embrace tightly and I feel safe again, fear draining from my shaky body. &lt;br /&gt;“Hey, Daddy,” I mumble into his robed shoulder. He lets me go and looks me over. His grin slowly fades away and is replaced with a small frown. I frown back, noticing the worried expression on his aging face. His hand touches my face softly and he purses his lips. He steps back, allowing me to step into the dimly lit living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What are you doing here so late, son?” He asks me, closing and locking the front door. He guides me over to a chair and I sit, sighing softly to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think for a moment. I can’t tell him I left my apartment because I’m afraid of the man I’m engaged to marry in less than two months. He’ll freak. I know it. “I felt like seeing you. It’s been so long, ya know,” I say and it’s true enough. I haven’t seen my father since the engagement party. He smiles, rubbing my shoulder a little. He tells me my mother is asleep upstairs and offers me something to eat and drink. I give him a small smile and decline, my stomach feeling a little sick. He nods a little and takes me upstairs to the guest bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He closes the door behind him when he leaves and I just want to crash. I’m so tired. I haven’t slept well in a while, especially with Pete and his tantrums. I slip out of my shoes and place them neatly near the closet across the room. I kick my sweats off and throw my T-shirt onto the floor with them. I yawn, stretching out my arms and I see my reflection in the mirror above the dresser. I can barely stand it. My stomach is covered in dark purple and green-ish colors. I close my eyes. The pain is just as bad as it looks, maybe even worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stop in my tracks as I make my way to my backpack on the other side of the room at the sound of a soft, sharp gasp. I turn and see my father standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom. His mouth is dropped slightly, his eyes wide. “Ryan, w-what happened to you?” He asks in a horrific shock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My jaw trembles as I lie. “I-I fell, Daddy.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His eyes narrow. “Ryan, don’t lie to me.” He comes over to me and I sit down on the bed, my knees feeling weak. “Who did this to you Ryan?” His eyes lock with mine and I turn away, feeling tears in my eyes. The expression of worry and shock is replaced with one of pure anger. “That boy? That boy Pete? It was him, wasn’t it? He did this to you?” His voice is loud and angry and his tone sends a shiver down my spine. “That boy hits you, doesn’t he?” He asks, but he already knows the answers. Tears roll down my cheeks and I hold back a sob. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Daddy, please…” I say softly. “We got in an argument. Things got out of hand. That’s it.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy grabs my face. “Ryan, don’t lie to me. Tell me. Is this boy hitting you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something in me finally lets go and I began to sob, my body shaking all over. I can’t keep lying anymore. I can’t keep making excuses for him. I hang my head, letting the tears drip down onto the carpet. I feel the bed shift as Daddy sits down beside me. His hand moves to my back, rubbing it in small comforting circles. “Shh,” he coos. “It’s okay, Ryan. Just tell me what’s going on.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“H-he hits me, Daddy,” I confess through heavy pants, my heart beating too fast for my liking. “And he raped me tonight. That’s why I came here. I didn’t know what else to do.”  I see him nod out of the corner of my eye and he hugs me to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s going to be alright,” he says. “You don’t need to see him ever again. He’s no good for you…” I block him out as he continues to go on about how bad Pete is for me and how I deserve better. I don’t want to hear it. I just want to sleep and clear my head. “He’s a no good son of a bitch and he doesn’t deserve you. He can rot in hell.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Daddy, please!” I nearly yell. “Stop,” I say softly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s the truth, Ryan!” Daddy says. “He deserves to suffer for hurting you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I didn’t ask you for your opinion,” I say, my tone sharp and cold. “He’s not what you say he is. He loves me.”  I don’t know what makes me say this after what Pete did to me, but I say it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This upsets Daddy even more. He quickly rises to his feet. “What are you saying, Ryan?” His voice rises. “It’s okay for this man to beat and rape you? Is that what you want? You can leave now if that’s the case.” By the time he’s done saying what he needs to say, he’s yelling and I’m hoping he hasn’t woken my mother up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Daddy, keep your voice down before you wake up Mom.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it’s too late for that because within seconds she’s in the doorway of the bedroom. “What on Earth is going on here? What are you shouting about, George?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father turns to her, his face twisted in anger. “That boy, Peter, is beating Ryan! And Ryan wants to go back home to him!” Daddy says, exasperated. The look of irritation on Mom’s face doesn’t change and she’s unfazed, which surprises Daddy and me. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” He takes the words right out of my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My own mouth moves instead of my mother’s. “She already knows,” I say under my breath, but it’s loud enough for Daddy to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You knew about this already?” He says viciously to my mother, seething. “And you didn’t tell me?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom crosses her arms in front of her chest, rolling her eyes at my father. “I didn’t think it needed your attention. Besides it’s not a big deal. Ryan is a big boy. He can make his own decisions.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart sinks into my stomach. “Are you really that cold and heartless enough to let your son lie in the arms of a man that beats and rapes him?” Daddy shouts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom’s expression goes unchanged. “Shut up, George,” she says fiercely. “This is none of your business. This is up to Ryan. Pete is a good man. He loves Ryan and Ryan loves him. Ryan knows this. Now leave it at that.” She turns to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I will not leave it at that! I refuse to let my child continue to be abused. This marriage will not go through!” Daddy protests and moves to stand right behind Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turns slowly, no sign of fear expressed on her face. “That is not your decision, George,” she says softly. “Go back to bed, both of you. It’s too late for all this nonsense.” With that she leaves the bedroom without another look back. Daddy looks at me, narrowing his eyes and letting out of quick gush of air. He mutters something under his breath before he leaves me alone in the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I exhale slowly and flop back onto the bed. I’ve made a mess again. Sleep overcomes me within minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes snap open at the feel of someone breathing down on me. Mom is staring down at me, a fierce look on her face. I sit up in the bed and lean back against the headboard. I don’t why she’s in here, but I suppose I’ll find out. She narrows her eyes and leans down close to me. I can smell the mint and coffee on the breath and I can bet she’s been up since the incident earlier. “Why did you come here, Ryan?” She whispers in anger. “You should be at home with Pete. He’s worried sick about you, you know that? He’s been calling all night, crying because you left in the middle of the night and he can’t find you and he’s been asking me if I’ve seen you. I won’t lie to that man any longer, Ryan. I will not fix what you ruined.” I can tell she’s furious by the way the vein in her forehead is pulsing and my stomach drops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mom, you know what happened. I can’t go back now. P-Pete…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She shushes me. “I don’t want to hear it,” she says. “You need to be at home with your husband to be not running around at all hours of the night.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mom, you don’t understand!” I nearly shout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She slaps me across the face, a small whimper slipping from my lips. “Keep your voice down before you wake your father,” she says harshly. I swallow hard, my face stinging a little. She grabs my face roughly, forcing me to look at her. “You are going to have breakfast with your father and then you’re going to get your things and go back home with Pete. Do you understand, Ryan?” I shake my head. Why is she doing this to me? Can’t she see how bad I’m hurting? Doesn’t she know I need to be away from Pete for a little while to think things through? “George Ryan Ross III, I said do you understand me?” I bite my tongue, my Adam’s apple bobbing in my throat. She lets go of me and gives me a look of disgust. “You’re going to marry this man,” she says then turns to leave. “Don’t you dare mention this to your father or lie on that innocent man again.” She closes the door behind her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t go back to sleep. I get up from the bed and dig my cell phone out of my backpack. I flip it open and a missing call notification sounds. 36 missed calls, 5 voicemail messages, and 4 unread text messages all from Pete. “Pete, baby, I need some time, please,” I say to myself, shoving my phone back into my bag. And part of me begins to forgive him. I close my eyes. What’s wrong with me?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:3455</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/3455.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=3455"/>
    <title>Calm Touching</title>
    <published>2007-03-15T22:26:18Z</published>
    <updated>2007-06-27T04:21:58Z</updated>
    <category term="ryan ross/jack marin"/>
    <content type="html">Yeah, I know a lot of you are waiting for an update for Never Knew and I'll probably have it done before the weekend is over. Hopefully tomorrow. I'm half-way through it :]] I have a standalone for you guys though to keep you entertained and whatnot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry if it's bad. I haven't written any smut in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Calm Touching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan Ross / Jack Marin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Mature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan and Jack alone in detention. Teenage boy sex in a classroom. Pure smut :]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Faker than a psychic with caller ID&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Author's Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Inspired by my own English teacher for giving detentions if you don't have your book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Calm Touching&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sigh, tapping my fingers on my desk and wishing I had just picked up my literature book from the counter this morning instead of rushing out of the house without it. But now I’m paying for it in an hour-long detention with Mrs. Sanchez, my English teacher. Now I’m sitting in her classroom at my usual seal at the far end away from her desk, not writing the sentences she assigned me. “I will come to class prepared with my pencil, paper, and literature book everyday’ one hundred times. She’s lost her mind. Only twelve year-olds write standards. I check my watch. I’ve been here for just ten minutes and my paper is blank. I wonder how long my second detention will be when Sanchez finds that I haven’t written a single sentence yet. Oh well, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid that sits next to me in this class third period, Jack Marin,, walks into the classroom and heads over to Sanchez’s desk where she’s grading today’s vocabulary tests. My eyes roam over him as Sanchez fusses at him for being late to class and detention in the same day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s clad in a small whit all-over print T-shirt and tight black jeans, held up with a white stud belt, hang low on his thin hips, exposing the pale skin of his stomach and back. I chew on my lower lip, hoping that I haven’t left a puddle of drool on the desktop after taking one look at Jack. I shake my head a little and stop undressing him with my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He heads in my direction after apologizing for his tardiness and part of me is hoping that he’ll sit next to me, while part of me is hoping that he won’t in fear that I’ll say something stupid. My heart skips a beat when he settles in the seat next to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hey,” he says, placing his backpack on the desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nod slowly. “Hey,” I say softly and my voice cracks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiles. “She gave you sentences too?” I nod again. My lips have gone dry and I can’t think of anything to say. I turn away from him and finally pick up my pencil, starting on my first sentence. Jack does the same, but after a few moments of silence he opens his mouth again. “You got a girlfriend?” He asks, giving me a playful smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I frown a little. I haven’t had a girlfriend since middle school, when I realized I wasn’t attracted to the opposite sex anymore. I sigh to myself. “Nope,” I answer, tapping my eraser on my paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack is the one that nods this time. He erases something he wrote on the paper and looks at me again. “Boyfriend?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think he’s kidding, but the look on his face tells me otherwise. “Uh, no,” I stutter a little and my cheeks redden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You want one?” The question catches me by surprise but not as much as Jack’s finger that runs flirtatiously down my arm. My mouth hangs open and I can’t find the words to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mr. Marin, this is detention, not social hour!” Mrs. Sanchez says sharply. The tips of Jack’s ears turn pink in embarrassment and he apologizes. He smirks and gives me a wink before continuing to write his sentences. I stare out of the window. If I knew any better, I’d say Jack was trying to flirt with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I highly doubt that was Jack’s intention. Jack’s one of the most gorgeous and wanted guys on campus. He’s a bad boy of sorts, something all the girls and even boys, including myself crave. What does he want with me when he’s got the whole damn school chasing after him? I’m just the shy kid he sits next to in third period. I’m nothing like those other gorgeous boys and girls that throw themselves at him. Why me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five minutes are so pass and Mrs. Sanchez stands from her chair behind her desk. “I’ve got a meeting to get to downstairs. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes are so. You boys stay put,” she tells us, grabbing her stack of papers and pen. She leaves the classroom and the door slams shut behind her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack drops his pen and pushes his paper away from him. “Finally,” he says in relief. He turns back to me and moves to his feet. “So, Ryan,” he begins, standing over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look up and we lock eyes. “Yeah, Jack?” I say in curiosity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How about that boyfriend thing? You need a new one?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Um, what?” I stammer nervously, my pencil slipping from my sweaty fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He takes my hands in his and pulls me up from my seat. “Come on, Ryan, I see the way you look at me,” he says. He steps closer to me and he cups my cheek in his hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bite my bottom lip. Am I that damn obvious? I don’t know how I got myself in this situation. And I really don’t know how to get out of it. I shift a little and swallow hard, feeling uncomfortable. Jack stares at me and then leans in, pressing his lips to mine in a slow kiss. And I swear my heart stops as I melt, my pants tightening suddenly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack places kisses on my face and neck as he slides his hands up my black T-shirt. I inhale sharply as he cold, smooth fingers run over my chest to my nipples, teasing and pinching them, making them harden instantly. I don’t move to stop him as he pulls my shirt up and I lift my arms, allowing him to take my shirt off and toss it onto the floor. His own shirt follows mine onto the carpet a moment later. He kisses my collarbone softly and his hands run down my chest to the button of my pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wait, Jack…” I push his hand away and he looks up at me, shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What, Ryan?” Jack says, playing with my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What are we….what’s going on?” I’m confused about why this happening and why now. Jack and I have been sitting beside each other for over a month. Why did he decide to approach me now? And why at school in detention of all places?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I want to be your boyfriend,” he says simply. My mouth hangs open a little and my eyes widen. “I’m just trying to give you a reason to say yes.” He grins, slipping the button of my jeans out of the hole and pulling down my zipper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Jack…Jack, I can’t do this here….Not a school. We’ll get caught!” I say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Shh.” He places his index finger to my lips, silencing my protests. “We won’t get caught. I need you to trust me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I do,” I say, my heart fluttering, “but…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack kisses me hard on the lips, pushing me up against the table and drawing circles on my back with his fingers. Our tongues touch, sending a shiver down my spine, and I moan against Jack’s lips. He presses his body against mine and his hand moves between our bodies to my crotch. He rubs the tent in the front of my jeans and I sigh. I whimper in loss when he pulls away from me, our lips parting ways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack moves to his knees on the floor and pulls my pants down around my ankles. He runs his hand across the front of my boxers and I hiss. “Jack….Please,” I say as Jack licks the skin around my navel. He smiles against my skin, slipping a finger beneath the waistband of my boxers and pulling them down to my ankles as well, revealing my throbbing hard cock. Jack looks up at me and I blush, a little embarrassed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kisses the tip lightly, sending a tremble throughout my body. He thumbs the slit and plays with my balls, teasing me and enjoying it. Jack licks the underside of my cock up and down and twirls his tongue around the head. I moan his name and he smiles. He sucks on the head a little, licking the pre-cum off as he strokes the base of my cock. He takes me to the hilt and slowly sucks more of my cock into his hot, moist mouth. I bite down hard on my tongue to stifle a moan as Jack sucks hard on my aching flesh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see Jack open his open pants and begin to stroke himself and it makes my knees weak. My hand moves to the back of Jack’s head, pushing it forward a little to feel more of his mouth around my dick. He doesn’t pull back even when the tip of my cock hits the back of his throat. He hums around my cock, causing my legs to shake. I get this familiar sensation in my stomach and I know what’s coming. He squeezes my balls and I groan, “Jack,” softly, holding back a scream as my orgasm courses through me and I come hard in Jack’s mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack swallows it all down and slips my softening cock from his mouth slowly, continuing to stroke his own erection. I run my fingers through his dark locks and I know he’s close. He leans back on his ankles and his hand jerks fast until he comes on his fingers. His head drops to his chest as he pants, muttering an obscenity under his breath. He looks up at me and smirks seductively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stands from the floor and tucks himself back into his pants and I do the same. He presses his lips to mine, letting me taste myself and I suck on his bottom lip. He pulls back a little. “So….about that question?” He says with a grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chuckle and kiss his cheek. “Do you even have to ask?” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and he hugs me to him. I smile against his chest. Maybe I should forget my lit book more often.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:3237</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/3237.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=3237"/>
    <title>hmm</title>
    <published>2007-03-14T05:26:47Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-15T04:35:45Z</updated>
    <content type="html">should i make this journal friends only?&lt;br /&gt;i kinda feel paranoid wit my stuff all out in the open,&lt;br /&gt;but i don't want to make it difficult for people to read my stuff...&lt;br /&gt;i'm stuck. help, please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[&lt;b&gt;edit&lt;/b&gt;]oh, &lt;s&gt;i'm going to have a story up for sure tomorrow&lt;/s&gt;, either the 4th chapter of Never Knew or a Ryan/Jack Marin story :]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, if you have any pairings you'd like to see lemme know&amp;i can see what i can do because i hate writing about the same people all the time</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:2934</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/2934.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=2934"/>
    <title>story idea...</title>
    <published>2007-03-08T03:56:58Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-08T03:56:58Z</updated>
    <content type="html">hey to all 60-somethin of you on my friends list. I want like your opinion on a few things for a story I'm working on and something I'm planning on writing. Please, leave some feedback.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What musician do you like Ryan Ross being paired with?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you read Avenged Sevenfold and/or Good Charlotte slash?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;&amp;Would you [writers] be ever interested in co-writing a story?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;answers please. i'd really appreciate it.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:2494</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/2494.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=2494"/>
    <title>Never Knew You Were So Much Fun 03</title>
    <published>2007-03-06T02:20:34Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-09T01:42:46Z</updated>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <category term="never knew you were so much fun"/>
    <content type="html">Today was amazing. The weather was nice&amp;my friends and I were lookin fly. Today was a good day. This would have been up earlier, but I pretty much rewrote it. Feedback is welcome&amp;appreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Never Knew You Were So Much Fun [03/?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Mature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Pete Wentz / Ryan Ross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;POV:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; First person [Ryan]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan needs a little saving. He's abused by his fiancé and he can't seem to escape the prison he's in, but then he meets &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; This is fake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; I have a love for Ryan and Pete and abuse stories :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;| &lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/1430.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;01&lt;/a&gt; | &lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/1570.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;02&lt;/a&gt; |&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Never Knew You Were So Much Fun&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 03: Aim From Across the Hall&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete is sitting on the edge of the when I wake up. His cell phone is pressed to his ear and a solemn look rests upon his face as he nods slowly. I push my body up and lean back against the iron headboard. Pete turns to look at me. He mouths a good morning and I give him a small smile in return. Pete’s eyes narrow slowly and he sucks his lower lip into his mouth several times throughout the conversation before after a few minutes of not speaking saying, “Thanks.” He hangs up the phone and sits it down on the nightstand. He turns to me again, examining me carefully. He lips purse firmly and after moments of staring he opens his mouth. “Do you love me, Ryan?” He asks nonchalantly as if he’s asking me the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what makes him ask me this. He knows I love him more than anything else in this world. I tell him this all the time. Slightly confused I answer, “Yeah, Pete, of course I love you.” I smile reaching over to touch his hand on the bed lightly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Then why would you tell your mother you want to leave me if you love me so much?” He questions me, his eyes burning holes into my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m dumbfounded, lost for words. I’d never say a thing like that to my mother or to anyone else. I’ve never even thought about leaving Pete. I know things get rough between us at times, but the last thing I wanted to do was lose the man I’d fallen in love with. “Pete, I’d never say that. I’d never leave you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete keeps his eyes on me, studying me carefully. “You told her I hit you.” His voice remains calm, but I can feel his anger radiating against me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I know, but she asked about a bruise I had. I couldn’t lie to her. She sees right through me.” I try my best to explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t believe you told her,” he snaps, snatching his hand away from mine. “You want to leave me, Ryan?” I can hear the agitation in his voice and I’m afraid to answer. No answer will be good enough for him. “Huh, Ryan? You wanna leave?” He grabs my wrist suddenly and twists painfully. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears well to my eyes as his fingers grip my joint tightly. “Pete, please, you’re hurting me,” I beg. Pain is surging through my arm and with my free hand I try to push his hand away from my wrist, but Pete’s strength is too much for me and I’m unsuccessful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tell me, Ryan,” Pete growls and his grip tightens even more and I feel as if he’s snapping the bone in half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete, no, please let me go.” A tear rolls down my chest and my chin trembles. “I don’t wanna leave you. I love you too much.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finally frees my wrist and lets my wrist drop to the bed. My other hand quickly moves to caress it. Pete closes his eyes, calming a little. I inhale sharply when he touches my cheek. “I love you, too, Ryan.” He kisses my forehead softly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sniffle and nod. “I know Pete, I know.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete arrives home early and tells me that we’re having dinner with Andy and Patrick this evening. I don’t ask for an apology and I don’t expect one. It was my own fault. I shouldn’t have dragged my mother into our business. Pete doesn’t apologize either. He strips from his work clothes and showers as I search for something to wear, few words exchanged between us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom when Pete is finished showering and getting dressed in the adjoining bedroom. I study my reflection carefully. I’m dressed in black slacks and a black vest over a long-sleeved button down shirt. I straighten my cuffs and I’m glad I settled with a long sleeved shirt. My wrist had taken on a maroon shade earlier this afternoon and I don’t need anyone asking me anymore questions. I carefully apply a thin line of black beneath my eyes and shine my lips up with cherry lip gloss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Babe,” I call out to the bedroom when I’m finished with my makeup, “how do I look?” I ask. I value Pete’s opinion, especially with clothing, much more than my own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete enters the bathroom, a small across his face. He walks up from behind me, sliding his arm around my waist. “Mmm, gorgeous….like always.” He kisses my temple and his lips trail down to my ear lobe. He sucks on the sensitive flesh and a moan escapes my lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Thanks, baby,” I say. “You don’t look so bad yourself. This is no lie. Pete looks amazing. He always does though. He’s clad in black slacks as well and a black long sleeved button down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his inked forearms. I turn in his arms and kiss him lightly on the cheek, not trying to start something we don’t have time to finish. We lock eyes and my throat tightens in discomfort. I don’t want to bring up the incident from this morning and he probably doesn’t either. And I hope tonight doesn’t lead to anything that’ll end up how things did this morning. But everything is okay. I sigh, letting Pete kiss my neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let’s go,” he says, taking hold of my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrive a few minutes late to the restaurant Andy and Patrick had made reservations at. The hostess guides us to the reserved table and the other couple greets Pete and me excitedly. Pete and I settle across from each other and the hostess hands us menus, informing us that the waiter will be with us shortly. The four of us chit chat for a few minutes and Patrick can’t keep himself from saying how glowing I look. I tell him that’s what’s it’s like being engaged to the most amazing man in the world and Pete blushes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young man who doesn’t look much older than me approaches our table. His hair is shoulder-length, a medium brown color, and his eyes are soft brown. He’s clad in the usual waiter attire, his pants a little tighter on his thin legs, hugging his small hips tightly. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he greets us with a warm smile and his eyes land on me. “How can I help you?” He asks, taking the menus from us. Though I might be imagining things, he lets his hand touch mine for a while before fully taking the menu from my hand and a wave a electricity surges through me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mm, I’ll take a glass of Merlot and a Caesar salad with grilled chicken, please,” I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Merlot?” He says in mock surprise. “Aren’t you a little too young for that? You don’t look old enough to see a rated-R movie.” He grins and Patrick and I giggle softly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel Pete burning holes into my face. I know I’m blushing now and I feel uncomfortable. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I give the gentleman a friendly smile. When I look to Pete he’s giving me a death glare and my stomach drops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A Merlot for the kid and for the rest of you…?” He turns to the other men. They place their orders and he leaves the table, giving me a quick wink before turning away, setting my cheeks on fire. I gasp when Pete crushes my foot with my own and I quickly cough to cover it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Looks like someone was trying to flirt with you, Ryan…” Patrick teases me and I give him a ‘shut the hell up’ smile that he grins at. I fight back against the urge to slap him across the face. I force an uncomfortable smile to my face and thankfully Andy says something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, but we all know that kid can’t compete with Pete,” Andy says and Patrick laughs. “Look at the rock on his finger.” He lifts up my left hand and the diamond on my finger sparkles in our faces. Pete smirks and narrows his eyes at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leans across the table and whispers in my ear, “Wait till we get home. I bet you won’t embarrass me again.” His voice is harsh and he pulls away before I can respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hey now,” Andy says. “No talking dirty before dinner. Save it for dessert.” He and Patrick laugh and I force a small chuckle from my throat as Pete grins on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In no more than an hour, our plates are practically empty as well as our glasses and our stomachs are full. Pete’s threat is still lingering in my mind and when the young waiter returned with my order, I made sure to touch Pete’s hand lightly and flash the engagement ring, hoping he’d get the hint. The boy was cute, but he wasn’t Pete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So, Ryan, have you decided on what flowers you’re going to have?” Patrick asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“White and…” I yawn right in the middle of my sentence, quickly covering my mouth. “Excuse me,” I say, shaking the tiredness from my body. “White and pink roses.” I blush a little. I look up to see Pete’s angry eyes. He grabs my hand hard and the pain shoots to my wrist that he’d almost broken this morning. “How about a dance, hun?” He asks in an overly sweet tone. My heart pounds inside my chest, but I can’t reject him or things will just get worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sure,” I say, quickly moving to my feet and following Pete onto the dance floor, smiling at Patrick and Andy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I place my hands on Pete’s shoulders and his move to my hips. We begin to move slowly to the smooth jazz music that the live band is playing. He leans in close to my ear. “What the hell is your problem?” He says, keeping his mouth tight and his voice low. “You’ve embarrassed me twice tonight; flirting with another man in front of me and my friends, yawning.” He roughly pulls my body closer to him and I bite down on my lip to stifle a yelp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I struggle to move in his tight hold and give up, letting him guide me. “Pete, I’m just a little tired, that’s it,” I try to excuse myself. “And I have no interest in the waiter whatsoever. He was just being friendly. I can’t be rude to someone that hasn’t done anything wrong.” I can’t believe what I’m saying. Pete’s attitude is irritating me and I know he can hear it in the tone of my voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You really like to piss me off, don’t you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chew on my lip. Why does he do this to me? “What are you going to do to me, Pete? Hit me? Go ahead then. Hit me right here in front of these people.” My voice is above a whisper and I don’t care. “Don’t be a coward, Pete.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Keep your voice down,” he mutters. “Just you wait…” With those three words, my body weakens with regret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete, look,” I begin as I enter our dark apartment, Pete on my heels. I flip up the light switch. “I’m sorry for what I said back at the restaurant. It’s just you’ve been so controlling lately and I’ve been doing my best to keep you happy. I’m just tired of you being so angry at me all the time. I don’t do shit to make me angry. You know that. I love you more than anything. I’d do anything for you. You know this, but you hit me all the time…” I trail off, sighing. Pete doesn’t respond. He walks past me into the kitchen and opens a water bottle. “And I didn’t mean to embarrass you. You’re the only man I want.” I follow him into the kitchen. I lean my head against his back and press a kiss to the back of his neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete whips around. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” He yells. “I don’t need your bullshit.” He heads toward the living room and I trail behind him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I touch his shoulder gently. I just want him to understand where I’m coming from. “Pete, I’m just trying to apologize…” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lets out a low growl and backhands me. The blow throws me off balance I fall to the floor, grabbing hold of a chair leg and touching my cheek gently. “Didn’t you hear what the fuck I said?” He says fiercely. “You just keep fucking up, Ryan. First you tell your mother you want to leave me, then you fuckin’ embarrass me at the restaurant, and now this shit.” He inhales slowly. “What am I going to do with you?” He paces beside me as I keep my head down, tears leaking from my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete, I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“SHUT UP!” He shouts and his foots meets my rib cage hard. He doesn’t stop there. His size eleven shoe lands all over my body: chest, legs, ribs. I curl into the fetal position, trying to protect as much of my body as possible. Pete yells obscenities at me as he continues to stomp me. I’m crying out in pain, begging him to stop, and praying that he doesn’t send me to the hospital. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kicks finally cease and I’m sobbing on the floor, shaking all over, my body on fire. I think he’s finished with me, but I’m wrong. He grabs hold of both my wrists and begins to drag me towards the bedroom. I don’t know what’s he’s planning, but I know it’s nothing nice. I kick out my legs and try to grab on to pieces of furniture, but I’m unsuccessful again. Screams and cries rip from my throat as he pulls me into the bedroom and onto the bed. My heart skips two beats, apprehension building as I figure out what’s coming next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s nothing I can do to escape or prepare for what’s going to happen as Pete rids himself of his clothes and pulls my pants around my ankles. I keep my eyes squeezed shut after he pushes my legs open and forces himself inside of me. “Pete, please!” I beg. But there’s nothing else I can say or do to stop this monster I call my fiancé. The pain is almost unbearable and something rips inside me, sending a warm sticky fluid, which I assume is blood done my thigh. When he’s done, he pulls out and rolls off of the bed. “Clean yourself up,” he says without a hint of emotion in his voice and I feel like a cheap trick on the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name='cutid1-end'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I haven't been replying to you guys' comments and I'm sorry about that. I just want to let you know that I read each one of them and I appreciate them dearly. Thank you all for reading&lt;b&gt;&amp;&lt;/b&gt;leaving feedback. You guys are what keeps me writing :]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oh&amp;if you haven't already, add this journal for updates&amp;because this is going to eventually be locked :]&lt;/b&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:1570</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/1570.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=1570"/>
    <title>Never Knew You Were So Much Fun 02</title>
    <published>2007-02-25T15:26:27Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-09T00:56:46Z</updated>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <category term="never knew you were so much fun"/>
    <content type="html">This story is keeping me busy and I don't have to think about certain things at the moment. Thank God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Never Knew You Were So Much Fun [02/?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Mature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Pete Wentz / Ryan Ross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;POV:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; First person [Ryan]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan needs a little saving. He's abused by his fiancé and he can't seem to escape the prison he's in, but then he meets &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; This is fake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; I have a love for Ryan and Pete and abuse stories :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;| &lt;a href="http://newerections.livejournal.com/1430.html#cutid1" target="_blank"&gt;01&lt;/a&gt; |&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Never Knew You Were So Much Fun&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Chapter 02: Vision Blurred&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up early the next morning in the guest bedroom. Pete locked me out last night and the couch didn’t seem like the best place to get a good night’s sleep. I decide to make Pete breakfast to make up for yesterday. I’m thinking about what I did that was so wrong as I scramble the eggs in the skillet. I never mean to make him angry. The only thing I want to do is please him. The smell of bacon, eggs, and French toast fills the apartment and I can hear Pete shuffling out of the bedroom. I give him time to get dressed and ready as I pull out a plate from the dish rack along with the usual utensils and a mug for his coffee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete,” I call down the hallway as the coffee brews. “I’ve got breakfast waiting for you!” I pour the dark coffee into the cup and place it beside the plate that has a large amount of food piled upon it. I can hear him walking down the hall as I put this morning’s newspaper on the table.  Pete appears in the kitchen and I smile at him. “Good morning, hun,” I say, trying to seem as cheerful as possible. Pete acts if I’m invisible, brushing past me and sitting down at the table. My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water as I think of something to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit down across from him. He turns his nose up at the food on the table and opens the newspaper. His eyes dart left to right as he scans the business section. “Andy called,” I try to start a conversation. “He and Patrick want to have dinner with us tomorrow night,” I inform him. “It would be nice to…” I stop in the middle of my sentence as Pete rolls his eyes, shifting the paper to block me from view. I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “Look, Pete,” I pause, watching Pete’s fingers twitch slightly, gripping the paper tightly. “I’m really sorry about yesterday. I didn’t think…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete slams his fist down hard on the table, dropping the newspaper and causing his plate and cup to rattle violently. I jump back at the sudden motion, fear coursing through me. “I don’t need your fucking apologies!” He yells and I can feel myself trembling. Pete quickly rises, upturning the chair and I stand as well in pure fear. His face is twisted in anger as he grips the edge of the table. “I can’t eat this fucking shit!” With one swift movement he flips over the table, sending the meal I had worked so hard on all over the floor. Pete advances toward me and backs me into a corner in the kitchen. I slide to the floor weakly, terrified. He raises his fist, ready to strike. I throw my arms up to shield my face, but Pete lowers his fist and gives me a cold menacing look. “Clean this shit up.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I hear the front door slam shut behind Pete, I let the tears I’d been holding back slide down my cheek and I choke back a sob. I look around the kitchen through teary eyes; there’s eggs and coffee splattered on the linoleum as well as broken glass. I lean back against the cupboard and close my eyes. What’s wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s almost two o’clock and I’m in one of the window seats of Lucille’s, waiting patiently for my mother’s arrival. She had called me earlier to set up a lunch date. I gaze out of the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her speeding down the street in the new car Pete bought her last month. My eyes move back to the main entrance of the restaurant and I see her near the door speaking with Arthur, a friend of the family and the owner of the restaurant. Arthur points in my direction and my mother follows his finger, her pink heels that match the $1000 dress she’s wearing clicking and clacking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello, darling,” she says, taking the seat across from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hi, Mom,” I say, letting a small smile form on my lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I received a phone call from a Ms. Nanette Dubois this morning,” she begins in an excited voice. “She’s willing to design the wedding for under 10 grand.” She pauses and inside my mind I’m wincing at the price, but I don’t protest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What she says goes, no matter what. If she’s not happy, then no one else is. She’s always been this way even when I was a kid. I can remember her hassling my father about the amount of money he made. It was just enough to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table, but not enough for the lavish lifestyle she wanted to live and had grown accustomed to before my father lost his job at the law firm he had co founded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sigh softly. Mom calls one of the waitresses over and asks for a glass of water before continuing on about something I’m not really interested in. “We have a consultation with her tomorrow afternoon right after my fitting for the mother of the,” she coughs,” broom’s dress. It is gorgeous by the way. It goes perfectly with my skin tone.” She giggles. “Isn’t that wonderful?” She’s grinning and opening the menu. She looks up at me from the menu and stares carefully. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you so gloomy when you’re marrying such an amazing man? You should be happy right now.” Her eyes are fierce, but her voice is calm and I can tell she’s slightly irritated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mom, I’m fine,” I say. “There’s nothing the matter,” I lie. She doesn’t need to know what Pete does to me when no one’s around. It’ll only make things worse. She doesn’t have time for my silly problems. Besides I can handle it myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes narrow slightly. “What happened to your face?” Her hand touches the spot where Pete he me last night. I wince a little and pull away from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nothing,” I lie. “I ran into the cabinet this morning. That’s all.” She gives me a look of disbelief. “You know how clumsy I can be, Mom.” She might believe this. She knows I was born with two left feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She grabs my hands suddenly and she gives me a hard stare and it’s like she can see right through this wall I’m building up. Her grip tights and I can feel her claw-like fake nails digging into my skin. “Do not lie to your mother,” she says in a hushed voice, not trying to draw attention to her self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t even know what to do. I can feel myself breaking. Pete’s been hitting almost everyday since he proposed to me a few months ago. He’s been so controlling and almost evil. I can’t even say anything to him without the fear of being beaten inside me. I love him and I thought he loved me. And now my throat tightens and it’s hard to swallow as tears rise to the brim of my eyes.  “I…Mom…h-h-he…” I’m stammering. I can’t do this anymore. Someone has to know. She’s my mother; she’ll help me. I come flat out and say it. “Mom, Pete, he hits me sometimes,” I say in a small shaky voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She seems to be taken aback by this, letting my hands go. “No,” her voice raises and she lowers her voice before speaking again. “He can’t be. That is a good man you have. Why would he hit you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My jaw is trembling and I’m even more upset. “Mom, he does. How else would I get this bruise on my cheek?” Now all I want is for her to believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re a klutz,” she says. “You said it yourself. You ran into something.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know she didn’t fall for that stupid lie. She doesn’t want to believe me. She thinks Pete is perfect or something and she thinks I’m a liar. “Mom!” I say loudly and people’s heads turn. I ignore the stares. “My body is covered in bruises. Pete hits me…a lot. He gets so angry over little things and takes it out on me.” I explain it the only way I can. I lift my shirt up slowly and show her the dark bruises that cover my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turns her head and I fix my shirt. She lets out a puff of air in defeat. “Well, he doesn’t hit you for nothing. You must be doing something, something that makes him angry.” This shocks me even more. I can’t believe what she’s saying. She’s blaming it on me. I’m her son, her child. She’s supposed to love and protect me. “You have to stop making him angry. You’ve got to make changes. If you don’t deal with it you’ll just lose him and then you’ll be in a rut. What will you do then, Ryan? Play in that silly band of yours for the rest of your life?” She sits back in her chair. “Fix. Don’t even think about leaving that man. You’re going to marry him.” She calls the waitress back and orders a salad, ending this discussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s nearing midnight when I’m finding myself extremely drowsy, lying on the couch in the living room, watching some old black-and-white movie on cable. Pete isn’t home yet and I’m a little worried. My eyes are burning from tiredness and I can’t stop them from sliding shut. I doze off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t even know what time it is when I hear a key turning in the apartment door and a low creak. I pull the throw blanket tighter around me. I’m probably just imagining thins. Now there are soft footsteps on the hardwood floor, drawing closer to me. The scent of an expensive fragrance fills my nostrils.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ryan?” Pete’s voice echoes in the quiet apartment and I finally open my eyes. He’s standing beside the couch, looking down at me. Fear bubbles in the pit of my stomach. I push the blanket back and sit up on the couch. “Hi, Pete,” I say, my voice barely audible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hey,” he says. He’s holding something behind his back. “Sorry for keeping you waiting up. It was hell today,” he explains. I nod to show him it’s okay and I understand, trying not to upset him. “I’m sorry for everything,” he begins in a soft calm voice. “I’ve been under a lot of stress and pressure lately. That’s no excuse though. I shouldn’t take my problems out on you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I inhale, swelling with forgiveness. “Pete, I…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hands me the dozen of white roses and a box of chocolate from behind his back. The flowers are gorgeous. He knows how I love white roses. “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t want to lose you. Please don’t leave me. I’ll change. I’ll do better. I’ll take classes, go to counseling. I’ll do anything.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart flutters and I feel so bad for what I said about Pete to my mother. I made him seem like such a monster. But he’s not. He’s so sensitive and caring. He really is. Pete stares at the floor and I move to stand on my feet.  I cup his cheek with my hand. “Pete, baby, I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay, hun.” He pulls me into his arms and our lips touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Come on,” he says, guiding me to the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love times like this when he’s so gentle, treating my body like the fragile wings of a butterfly. He’s kissing me softly, running his hands up and down my chest, whispering how much he loves me in my ear. Our clothes are on the floor and our bodies are bare, glistening. He’s pushing into me slowly and carefully and I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to stop?” I shake my head no and he continues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sex is good. Slow and steady. His stroke sends chills down my spine and I’m moaning like a whore, asking for more. He deprives me of nothing. He’s hitting my spot with each thrust and my hand is working at my hard on. I reach my climax, screaming his name and he follows closely behind me, grunting loud. He pulls out carefully and lies beside me on the bed. Our chests rise and fall as our breath comes in heavy pants. He kisses my cheek. “I love you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sigh. “I love you, too.” And now I’m okay. Everything is okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name='cutid1-end'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;feedback is welcome and appreciated&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friend this journal for updates [and chance of going friends only in the near future] if you haven't already.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:newerections:1430</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/1430.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=1430"/>
    <title>Never Knew You Were So Much Fun</title>
    <published>2007-02-20T23:22:56Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-08T23:52:55Z</updated>
    <category term="pete/ryan"/>
    <content type="html">This isn't amazingly written, but I tried. I really want to write a &lt;b&gt;good&lt;/b&gt; chapter fic that I can actually finish. I guess we'll see how this turns out :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Never Knew You Were So Much Fun [01/?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;span  class="ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     "  data-ljuser="newerections" lj:user="newerections" &gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/profile/"  target="_self"  class="i-ljuser-profile" &gt;&lt;img  class="i-ljuser-userhead"  src="https://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&amp;v=923.1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://newerections.livejournal.com/" class="i-ljuser-username"   target="_self"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;newerections&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Mature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pairing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Pete Wentz / Ryan Ross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;POV:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; First person [Ryan]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Ryan needs a little saving. He's abused by his fiance and he can't seem to escape the prison he's in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; This is fake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author Notes:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; I have a love for Ryan and Pete and abuse stories :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Chapter 01: I'm In Line for the Murder&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s 08:30 when something wakes me up on Monday morning. I’m not sure what it is, but I don’t bother to open my eyes or move. My body is aching in every part I can imagine. I’m afraid to move. I don’t think my body can handle any more pan. I open my eyes slowly. The bedroom is empty; the spot beside me in the king-sized bed is cold. I’m all alone and I’m not even sure if it’s good or bad or not. The light in the adjoining bathroom is on. Maybe Pete forgot to turn it off before he left for work. Now the bathroom door is opening and he’s smiling at me from the door way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hey, beautiful,” he pauses, “you’re finally up.” He walks over to me and I feel myself cowering under the comforter, hoping the sheets and mattress will swallow me whole. He places a kiss on my cheek and I relax slightly. “Come on, I have a nice hot bubble bath waiting for you and I set up a massage for you at 10:00.” He extends both hands to me and I take hold of them with caution. He pulls me to my feet and I know my eyes are reflecting my fear. The smile remains on his young, handsome face but his eyes are cold. He kisses me on the cheek again and leads me into the large bathroom. “I’ve got to get to work,” he says and helps me slip out of my pajamas and into the warm water. “This will be good for your soreness.” He leans down over the tub and I shift a little so our lips touch lightly. “I love you,” he says and our eyes meet. He smiles softly and leaves me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I relax in the warm water, the bubbles tickling my chin. I let my eyes slide shut and the water soothes the soreness of my body. My body is bruised and battered, but it’s okay now. Everything is okay now, just as long at I don’t think back to last night. Last night was bad, worse than usual. He never gets that bad. I sigh. I won’t let things get that way again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the water cools too much and my hands are all pruney like my great Aunt Alley’s I let the water drain out and step out of the tub. I wrap a towel around my waist and brush my teeth. My lip is busted and my cheek is bruised and swollen. I turn away. He didn’t mean to hurt me. I know he didn’t. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete’s masseuse arrives five minutes early and sets up the massage table out in the living room of the large apartment. My body is sore and tender and covered in scars and dark purple bruises, but the woman doesn’t ask me any questions. Her hands are soft and smooth and the pain seems to easy away with her caress. I pay her with the money Pete left on the counter and she leaves the apartment with a look of concern on her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The door bell rings about an hour after the masseuse leaves. I get up from the leather couch, sitting the remote down on the glass coffee table. I open the door, not bothering to ask who it is. I’m greeted by the familiar faces of my close friends and former band mates, Brendon, Jon, and Spencer. They push past me and force their way into the apartment, oohs and ahhs fill my ears as I shut the door behind them. “What are you guys doing here?” I ask, surprised to see them after my resignation a few months ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We haven’t seen or heard from you in a while,” Brendon answers, taking a seat at the kitchen bar. “We decided to pay you a visit before your wedding.” I smile, glancing at the white gold engagement band on my left ring finger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You guys shouldn’t have,” I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, we didn’t want you to think we had forgotten about,” Spencer says and I’m glad to hear it from someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, we still love you, man,” Jon chuckles. “But moving on, we better get going.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Right,” Brendon says and takes hold of one on my wrists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where are we going?” I ask, puzzled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s a surprise!” The three of them smile and Brendon begins to pull me back toward the door. I protest a little, trying to tell them I need to grab my cell phone from the counter, but they don’t listen. Dread begins to fill me as we drive down the busy streets of Los Angeles at the thought of my left behind cell phone. I know Pete won’t be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels good to be sitting on the rooftop of my favorite restaurant with guys. They’re talking about the band and how much they miss me and want be back as I gaze down at the Boulevard shoppers and sigh. It’s been so long since I’ve felt so free. I realize how much I’ve missed them. “I’ve missed you guys,” I say, taking a sip of the Long Island Iced Tea I ordered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We’ve missed you, too,” Brendon says and Jon and Spencer nod their heads in agreement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When are you coming back?” Jon is the first to ask. I take another sip. I haven’t thought about that in a while. Pete had told me I should take some time off from the band to plan for the wedding, but he never said when I’d be able to return. “Soon, I hope,” I say softly, chewing on my lower lip. “Soon,” I repeat. I smile around at them and they smile back at me with hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waitress returns with the check and I check my pockets for extra cash. “No, no, Brendon says, pushing my wallet away. “It’s my treat.” He hands the young girl a Visa card and she takes it with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You should have let me cover it,” I say. I know their icon hasn’t been the same since they put the band on hiatus after I resigned. I have the money for it. Pete keeps money on all of the credit cards and he leaves me at least five hundred dollars in cash when he leaves for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So,” Jon begins, taking a sip of his lemonade, “what’s it like being engaged to a millionaire?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He’s not a millionaire,” I protest and the guys just laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No, he’s not a millionaire,” Spencer says sarcastically. “His band’s CD only went platinum in like a week and he owns portions of two record labels that have some of the country’s top bands signed &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; he’s only producing music for some of the hottest bands out there. No, he’s not a millionaire, just one of the most eligible bachelors in the music business.” I grin and their laughter continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well,” I say when the laughter dies down. I force a smile to my face. “It’s great.” I’m not completely lying. Sometimes things are amazing and sometimes they’re not so great. “I love him and he loves me.” Brendon grins. I can tell they’re happy for me, even though Pete has seemed to come between us over the last few months. I wish I could say I’m just as happy as them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We leave the restaurant when the girl returns with Brendon’s ATM card and I leave a twenty dollar bill on the table when the boys aren’t paying attention,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I’m persuaded to tag along for a surprise shopping spree with the boys twenty minutes later when we pull up to one of the shops in the downtown shopping center. It’s nearing 5:30 when we climbed back into the car, carrying ten or so bags of clothing and other junk we don’t need. The silly mood that the shopping brought me in begins to die when I think about my cell phone that’s sitting on the countertop back at the apartment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have over twenty missed calls on my cell phone from Pete and ten more on the apartment phone when we get back. The four of us are lounging around the TV, our feet propped up on the coffee table. Pete would probably kill me if he saw this but it’s not my main concern because right now spending time with the people that are dear to me makes me feel invincible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten minutes into some horror movie on CineMax there’s a soft knock on the apartment door.  “I wonder who it could be,” I say, handing the bowl of popcorn to Jon. Brendon shrugs a look of confusion on his face. My heart stops when I glance out the peep hole. One of the guys asks me who it is and “A cop,” slips from my lips softly. I unlock the door and pull it open. “Good evening, officer.” My voice is cracking as I speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young officer nods his hello and eyes me carefully. “Are you Ryan Ross?” He asks simply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nod my head slowly. “Yes, is there a problem, officer?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He doesn’t answer my question, but asks another instead. “May I come in?” I nod again and step aside to allow him into the apartment and I can feel my heart pounding inside my chest. He looks around the room and I see Brendon pick up the remote to the audio system. I give him an inquiring look and the room fills with Akon’s “Smack That”. “You’re under arrest,” the officer says, tossing his cap onto the floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My jaw slackens in shock and horror as the “officer” begins to move his hips to the music. The man pushes me into one of the leather chairs in the room. The guys are giggling and whooping from the couch as the young man swiftly unbuttons his uniform cap, exposing a smooth, tan, and well-toned chest. He’s smiling at me and playing with my tie and kissing my cheek softly. A dollar bill flies towards him and he starts shaking his butt, his hand inching toward his belt buckle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The apartment door opens and Pete steps into the room. He clears his throat and we all freeze. “H-hey, baby,” I stammer, quickly standing from the chair. “Sorry about this. The boys just thought…” I trail off. Pete walks past me, giving me a look of pure disgust. He nods to the topless young man standing near me and the guy smiles sweetly. The guys greet Pete and he hugs them quickly. “This was all our idea,” Brendon says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s fine,” Pete says and I know he’s lying through his teeth. “Enjoy yourselves, boys.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Cool,” Brendon says, turning the music back up and the stripper continues his dance as Pete heads back to the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Guys, I think you should go,” I say in a hushed voice, moving towards the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But..” Brendon begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ryan’s right,” Jon says. “What does he need this guy for when he’s got Pete Wentz?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, let’s go,” Spencer suggests. “We paid you for a full dance so you can come back to my place,” he tells the stripper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guide the guys out the door, hugging and thanking them as well as the man they hired to strip. I shut the door behind them and lock it. I almost immediately find myself on the floor, tears in my eyes after Pete delivers a hard slap to my face. “What were you thinking bring &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; in here?” He spits fiercely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pete, I just…” I don’t know what to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why do you like to anger me so much?” He asks. I search for the right words, but none come to mind. He knows I hate to make him angry and nothing I do is meant to upset him. He gives me a dirty look. “Fix your hair,” he says coldly and leaves me there on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I could have done way better, but I'm not sure what else to do. Should I continue it? Please let me know what you think.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name='cutid1-end'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;add this journal for updates [and for the chance of going friends only in the near future]</content>
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