ypiho. (mystoryinstereo) wrote in alternativslash,

Cruel Intentions, Chapter Two.

Title: Cruel Intentions
Author: perilprincess & mystoryinstereo
Pairing: William Beckett/Ryan Ross (read cast list for more)
Rating: R (according to the movie rating)
POV: Third Person
Summary: Brendon makes a bet that his step-brother, William, won't be able to bed Ryan (a virgin, who wants to wait until marriage) before the start of the school year. If he loses, Brendon gets his Roadster, if he wins, he gets Brendon.
Disclaimer: We do not own anything. Not the Plot, the characters, songs, lines or titles. This is complete fiction and never happened.
Dedications: Tina, because she made a double check on this and helped with some lines. Thanks strawberrychick ;) – and also everyone who reads this.
Author Notes: Read this first. If you want to know which other characters will appear in this story, this is our
Cast. And these are they official posters: Mainposter & additional poster

Previous Chapters: Prologue| 1

Cruel Intentions – Chapter Two

The wind is rushing through his hair, letting it flutter as he approaches his house. Well, in fact his father’s house. But since Mr. Beckett Senior is almost constantly absent, William has started to call it his own. Sooner or later, it will be his anyway, so why not get used to it already?

New things are confusing and confusion can distract you from important things. William doesn’t want to miss a thing that could matter, that’s why he prepares in advance.

He parks his black Jaguar Roadster in front of the luxurious residence he calls his home. He grabs his diary, which appears to be his constant companion, and opens the driver’s side. Exiting his car, his eyes roam over the avenue.

He enters the house to be greeted by Jonathan, their butler if you want.
“Mr. Beckett, you have several missed calls and-”
“Where is Brendon?” He cuts the elderly man off, not really caring. If the calls were important they’d call again.

“Mr. Urie is in the salon with Mrs. Wentz and her son.” Jonathan replies, gesturing down the hall.
William makes his way in the hinted direction, waving the staff with a flick of his hand, his gracious allowance for the man to mind his own business now.

He knows well that the majority of the staff is just waiting for the day that he will fall down face first, getting what he deserves for his arrogant way. But he’s persuaded that this won’t ever happen. After all, he is William Beckett.


Brendon Urie is sitting bolt upright on the couch. He’s facing Mrs. Wentz and her darling son and talking to them about their moving there from Kentucky. He’s listening politely to the mother drone about her son’s old school and he crosses his legs occasionally, in case he gets cramp.

Brendon lets his eyes flick over Mrs. Wentz. A tall lady with make up plastered to her face, the red lipstick stain still apparent on her lips. Her suit jacket is fitted and the colour makes Brendon feel sick. He lets his eyes rest on her legs. The material of the tights she is wearing shine against the light from the double windows to their right. The room is lavishly decorated with gold and deep colours that signify wealth. Brendon keeps his eyes on Mrs. Wentz but glances over at her son, Pete. He is wearing tight black drainpipes that hug his figure perfectly and a bright orange t-shirt that has ‘GO COCKS!’ written all over it in black, bold font. Brendon laughs inwardly, knowing that this innocent young boy obviously couldn’t understand the deeper meaning of this shirt.

Brendon received them in the huge salon. When they arrived he had been sitting by the polished ebony piano, giving an excellent demonstration of his skills. Oh, how he loved to reply to their question of what he’s playing with an ‘a little composition I created myself’. The impressed expressions of mother and son filled him with more than satisfaction.

He is an ambitious person and he works hard to reach his aims. Like appreciation and admiration. It isn’t easy, but he’s stubborn enough to succeed in most cases.

“I hope he can rise to the high standards you have set for him,” Mrs. Wentz throws in when she realizes that Brendon isn’t really listening that much anymore. He thinks fast, trying to think of something charming and witty at the same time. Something to “wow” them.

“Really, my entire life, everything I do, revolves around these few years. If I don’t try my best to achieve what I want at this point, what will I do later on?” He drawls and Mrs. Wentz seems happy with the response.

“You can see Brendon as a director. With his management you’re practically set for something grand.” She says, patting Pete’s leg through his denim jeans. She flashes a smile at Brendon and carries on talking. “What’s your secret?” She asks, like it was the most unobvious thing in the world. “How can you do all this? You’re still so young!” Another smile plasters over her face, her hand still on Pete’s knee.

Brendon puts his hand over his heart, and feels around for his rosary - his special rosary.

“Well, it may sound corny. But when I feel peer pressure…” Brendon makes a dramatic pause as he pulls out his rosary, “I turn to God and he helps me with any problems.” Brendon flings a longing look at the rosary and deposits it back into its hiding place under his suit. Mrs. Wentz murmurs something about the sentiment being lovely.

“What are the other kids like?” Pete asks in a fairly bored tone. His mother pokes him in his side, hissing something about being more polite.

He frowns a little, for he doesn’t know what her problem is. What’s wrong with him wanting to know about the ‘fun’-things and not all this boring stuff only his mother cares about?

“You’ll have to excuse Pete,” she says, speaking to Brendon now. “He’s never been in a co-educational environment before.” She smiles at Brendon and he chuckles back, completely understanding what Pete meant.

“Well, the people that go to Manchester are all very upstanding. However, there are the few occasional bad apples.” Brendon says with a roll of his eyes.

“Like your step-brother William.” Mrs. Wentz supplies. “I can’t understand they still didn’t expel him after all the things he did. Especially with the secretary!”

As if on cue, William happens to walk through the door at that very moment.

“Last time I checked,” he says calmly. “She was doing quite well.” He saunters across the room and stops next to Brendon, looking at Pete.
“My, what an adorable shirt you’re wearing.” Pete seems to genuinely believe that William likes the shirt.

“Oh, thanks.” He beams. “I got it from my last school.” William smiles.

“So you like cocks then?” Pete misses what he meant and carries on.

“Yeah, they’re awesome. They seriously win at life – and football.”

“I bet.” William can’t help the smirk that paints itself over his lips.

“WILLIAM!” Brendon hisses, smacking his arm. William glances down at Brendon and the smile flickers from his lips. He walks away, his shoes clicking against the marble floor.

“We should get going now, really. Thank you for your help.” Mrs. Wentz says standing and fumbling with her handbag. Brendon stays near the door and watches them walking past.

“Oh, Pete! Call me and we’ll discuss your classes.” Brendon reminds the younger boy, who nods and walks away, shouting something about it being nice to meet them over his shoulder. Once Brendon and William made sure they are out of range they both relax. Brendon starts to unbutton his jacket and flops onto the couch he has been sitting on.

“No one told me it’s Jerk Day at the Valmont’s.” William says, leaning closer to the couch while speaking and walking round.

“I’m just guiding the poor little boy a little…to my advantage.” Brendon explains, while unscrewing the end of the rosary. As said, it really is his special rosary. Hiding cocaine in a sacred item, how ironic that God is covering up his little addiction. It is the classic wolf in a sheep’s clothing cliché.

Sniffing the contents, he observes his step-brother pacing around. He rubs his nose, making sure there are no telltale powder traces left and carries on talking. “The parents called by the way.” He pauses to think of the appropriate words. It’s ridiculous to call people you see 5 weeks a year parents.

“Oh yes. How does your money greedy whore of a mother like Barbados?” He asks, with obviously faked interest.

“Jeez. What’s wrong with you? Girls not wanna shag you this time?” Brendon asks sarcastically. William brushes him off, looking into the other direction.

“I’m sick and tired of these Manhattan virgins. They aren’t a challenge. It’s so easy to hook them up, it’s an insult.” He grabs the card game that sits on the dark coffee table, actually meant as decoration, and flips them on the table to occupy his hands.

“I have something that could rescue you from all this dullness.” William carries on playing with the cards and turns his head a little into the direction of Brendon. He seems somehow unimpressed.

“Oh, and what could that be?” William asks, not expecting the answer he is about to receive.

“You remember Matthew, do you not? Well, I was very upset when I learnt that he had been fooling around with someone else.” Brendon shifts his position on the couch and lays out, his right leg slightly bent. “Naturally, I broke it off with dear Matthew. Then afterwards, I find out by chance that his new interest was none other than Pete Wentz.” William’s gaze lifts away from the cards and rests on Brendon.

“Pete Wentz? As in that dear boy that had just been sitting in front of us?” William asks as if it is impossible to comprehend. Brendon nods and lifts his hand to brush through his hair.

“The one and only.”

“Okay. But why do you need me? I mean, what have I got to do with it? Why not just attack Matthew?” Brendon shakes his head like it was obvious.

“Because, if I make an attack on Matthew it could be traced back to me. People love me.” He adds with mock importance. “I can’t risk losing that.”

“Yes…right.” William says reasonable. “Even so, what do you want me to do?”

“Seduce him.” Brendon says. “Make Pete the whore of the town. It’s quite simple really. I mean, he’s rather cute, you know.” Brendon raises his right hand and moves it to his lips. Dragging his hand over his lips, he moves them down his body, making sure that William is watching. His hands reach his neck, chest, hips and just slipping over his hips to rest by his side lightly. “He’s got a good body, tall and full lips. All the better to kiss him with.” Brendon now has William’s full attention and said man is beginning to walk over to Brendon. Brendon’s leg stretches out and slips up William’s leg, reaching his crotch and pulling back.

“His tight firm ass…” Brendon continues and William bends over to get closer to him. Their lips are close together and they can feel each others hot breath on their lips. Then William suddenly announces something.

“I can’t. I have a reputation to uphold.” Brendon uses his legs and pushes William away.

“Yet you’ll fuck with the therapist’s daughter.” His voice pierces the silence of the room. He stands up, walking over to the cards William has been playing with earlier.

William shrugs. “That was just for fun. Like I said, things are getting a little easy around here.” He stands up as well and walks over to the piano that Brendon had played and picks up a magazine that is laying on it. “You want a challenge, I got one.” He throws the magazine onto the cards that Brendon is shifting around on the table and takes place behind him.

“Well, jeez! That’s where my copy of Seventeen went!” Brendon adds sarcastically.

“Shut up. Turn to page 32 and read.” Brendon rolls his eyes and picks up the magazine, flipping it emphasized disinterested open to the page. A picture of a young boy stares back at him. His hair is brown like William’s but his is shorter and covers his face. His eyes are soft and pure and Brendon has to look away for a second. He is wearing a light blue shirt that looks like it fits tightly, but the picture cuts off there and leads into some text. It reads ‘Why Being Gay Isn’t All About Sex by Ryan Ross, Las Vegas, Nevada’. Once he is sure that Brendon is reading, William runs his hands along Brendon’s chest, slowly and enticingly. He doesn’t seem to realise and keeps reading the article.

“Please tell me he’s not for real.” Brendon states, getting further and further and reading, what he considers to be, absolute bullshit.

“As far as I’m aware, he is for real. And he’s mommy’s little boy.” William lets his hands wander lower and lower until he reaches the band of Brendon’s pants and pulls back, grabbing the magazine as he does so. “Let me have a look at it.” He reads the article while walking around the room, passing the piano and the couch. “Yada, yada, yada…blah, blah, blah…” He puts on a high pitched voice. “I love my parents.” Brendon just scoffs, tracing his eye brow with his middle finger as his eyes rests lazily at his step-brother.

“Rubbish…more rubbish…Oh, listen up! He has a boyfriend.” William exclaims. “Spencer understands.” He nods his head in mock understanding and walks back towards Brendon.

“So Spencer has a whore. What a shame. Anyway, they live in Nevada, genius.” Brendon points out, rather pleased with himself for finding an obvious flaw in his plan.

“Oh, I beg to differ. Our beautiful prude is moving to our state. His father got a job as headmaster of our school.” Brendon rolls his eyes as William gets a far off look in his eyes. “Can you imagine what it would do to my reputation?” He blinks a few times. “He’ll be my greatest victory.”

“Sorry honey,” Brendon butts in. “You don’t even stand a chance. A boy like that?” He shakes his head. “Nuh-uh.” William turns to look at Brendon.

“Oh really? I can almost hear a wager coming on. Care to make a bet?” Brendon looks up at the ceiling. He bites his bottom lip.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Well, either way, it’ll make an exciting entry into my journal.” Brendon snickers.

“Why are you writing that, anyway?”

“It’ll be easier for the posterity to make a movie about me. You know, with the details and the like.”

“A movie? Oh really.” He laughs again. “So what would the title be?” Brendon says with a snort. “Bend It Like Beckett?” He shakes his head at his joke.

“Oh, shut up bitch. You know it’d be like,” William scoffs, putting on the girliest voice he can muster. “your all time favourite movie.”

With that, William exits the salon, pleased with his new plan.

[x] yeah…not only did it take us like forever to update, no it’s also short. I’m sorry, but as I said, I’m pretty busy at the moment. Becky wrote the most of it and I threw a couple cheeky lines into it. The idea with the cock shirt is from Tina, btw. FYI, the cocks a football team, as this wasn’t obvious already.

Ok, R&R ;)

Stanze & Becky
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