Date: Mon, 27 Mar 2000 16:19:19 GMT From: Irda Majere Subject: If Only Part I Hullo! Well, here's another Ronan story from me, Miss Irda Majere. I know not many people like the others, but I decided to post this one anyway. For those of you who care; I know I haven't added to Something Else for a while now, but you can blame this new fetish of mine for that! If you want me to continue with SE or even the other one, Ronan's Exploits, TELL ME! Here are a few of my faves I think you should check out: Changes, which is the best story on the archive!, Affirmation (hi Am!), Intimate Stranger (hi Diana!) and 2 out of 5 (hey Kev!) For those who don't know BZ and Westlife very well, there are two Shanes! One is in BZ with Ronan, the other is in Westlife which Ronan co-manages. Just to clear up any misunderstanding... Legal Stuff: I'm pretty sure these guys are straight, and you should go away if you don't want to or shouldn't be here. Bye! Hope y'all enjoy it! Please send all feedback to: jack_kea@hotmail.com If Only by Irda Majere Part I Shane tightened his grip around his lover's waist as he thrust harder and harder into the smaller man's body, making the blonde grit his teeth from the pain. "Shane, you're hurting me," Ronan complained weakly. But instead of listening to the blonde's complaints, the older man began thrusting into him even harder, making Ronan cry out in pain. "Don't give me any of that," Shane said, moving one hand up to grab Ronan's long hair painfully, pulling his head back. "You love it when I'm rough." Ronan could tell from his band mate's voice that he was smiling, as if he was convinced what he was saying was true. Though it seemed like an eternity to Ronan, it didn't take Shane long to reach orgasm, and after shooting his load inside his pained band mate, the handsome 24-year-old removed his now-soft member from the blonde's tunnel. "How was that, then?" the dark-haired man said, his tone self-assured and mocking. But Ronan didn't move. He was still leaning against the wall Shane had pushed him up against earlier, and hadn't moved an inch since the invasion of his body had ended. Shane grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. "What's wrong with you!" Shane said loudly. When he was face to face with the smaller man, he saw that Ronan was crying. "Wimp," Shane said disgustedly. "Get your clothes on and get out." Ronan quickly gathered his clothes, which Shane had violently torn off earlier, and managed to put them on, despite his trembling hands. When he was dressed, he walked towards the door, which Shane held open, impatience edged in his handsome features. Glancing at his band mate as he walked past, Ronan hurriedly exited Shane's hotel room. Without a word, Shane slammed the door shut after the blonde, making Ronan flinch slightly as he stood, still shaking, in the empty hallway. Slowly, the singer turned around and placed his hand on the door. Leaning his forehead against it, he whispered: "I love you, Shane." Then he began crying harder, bitterly but silently. Unable to withstand the convulsions shaking his weakened body, Ronan slid to the floor onto his knees. Ronan eventually gathered enough strength to get up, and when he was on his feet he hurried down the hallway to his room. He did not want to meet anyone; not in the state he was in. When he was in his room, he went to the bathroom and prepared to shower. As he removed his clothes, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He stopped and gazed at the face staring back at him. 'Why do I let him do this?' he thought when he saw the tears streaking his smooth face, his eyes which were swollen from crying. Then he realized that this sight was way too familiar. The last few months, laughter had been much less frequent than crying, a smile more seldom seen than tears. And it was all because of him, the man he loved more than anyone he'd ever met. Shane. Even now, just the thought of his name made Ronan's heart ache with longing, a longing for something he knew he would never possess. "Why should I bother going on, when my love is the one who hurts me the most?" he said softly, directing his words to the pathetic-looking figure in the mirror. Suddenly his face hardened. "You're pathetic. You don't even have the guts to end this misery, you fucking loser!" He grabbed the object closest to hand and threw it at the mirror, sending shards of glass flying all over him and the tiled bathroom floor. Breathing hard, Ronan glanced down at the object he had thrown. Sleeping pills. He had been taking them for a while now; he had been suffering from insomnia ever since-he didn't want to think about that now; not ever. Luckily, the glass had landed on the soft shower mat so it wasn't damaged. The blonde singer reached down and picked up the glass containing the precious pills. It would be so easy. To fall asleep and never wake up. Ronan turned the glass over in his hand, convincing himself more and more that his life was not worth waking up for; that endless sleep was by far the best option. No one cared. Oh, sure, he had fans and lots of so-called friends; but no one actually cared about HIM. His hands shaking, the 23-year-old managed to unscrew the lid of the glass, before proceeding to pouring the whole content of the glass in his palm. He dropped the glass, but didn't even notice as it hit the glass-covered floor. He stared at the pills in his hand for long moments, thinking of the sweet sleep he was about to experience, about never having to face any of them ever again. Slowly, Ronan lifted his hand to his mouth. 'Goodbye, Shane,' he thought as a tear slid down his cheek, 'I always loved you.' But just as he was about to put the deadly dosage in his mouth, he heard the hotel room door open. "Ronan, you in here?" The sudden interruption startled the young man so that he dropped the pills, causing them to scatter all over the floor amongst the bits of broken glass. When he realized his suicide attempt had failed, he screamed with frustration and kicked the bathroom door with all his strength. "I can't do anything right!" he yelled before dropping to the floor, crying hysterically. Shane heard the commotion and ran to the bathroom. Nothing could have prepared the young singer for the sight that greeted him. The mirror completely shattered and the floor strewn with bits of broken glass and small white pills. In the midst of it all, lying in a heap and sobbing heavily, was his manager. Ronan had always been so strong, so perfect to the younger man. Ever since he'd met him had he looked up to the famous pop star, he was his idol. He was the one Shane wanted to be. Seeing him like this was like being slapped in the face. It didn't take long for the dark-haired singer to figure out that his idol had been trying to kill himself, and it broke his heart. What if he hadn't walked in when he did? Shane knelt down beside the crying man, and gently placed his hand on Ronan's bare shoulder. "What do you want?" Ronan asked coldly, obviously consumed with self-pity. Ignoring the question, Shane asked: "What happened?" Ronan sniveled. "What do you care, Filan? Just go away and leave me alone," the older man said, his voice shaking as he began crying again. Again Shane ignored him, and proceeded to pulling Ronan up on his feet. "Come on, let's get you to bed." Despite his earlier remark about wanting to be alone, Ronan let Shane drag him to his feet and lead him into the bedroom. Once they were in the bedroom, Ronan let go of Shane and began removing his shoes and trousers, which were the only pieces of clothing left on his body. When he had taken them off, Shane noticed that the blonde wasn't wearing any underwear. But he also noticed something else which made his blood freeze in his veins: A small trickle of blood was running down Ronan's inner thigh. 'Was he raped?' Shane thought, barely able to even think it. It was obvious Ronan was oblivious to the fact that he was bleeding, for he made no signs of trying to hide it from the younger man. Just thinking of the terrible things Ronan must have gone through, the humiliation and the pain, made the tears well up in Shane's eyes, and his voice was thick when he spoke. "Ronan." The blonde singer turned around and saw the tears running down his friend's cheeks. 'Oh God, what now? The last thing I need is him on my case.' But he knew he was being unfair to the poor kid, so he faked concern and went over to the crying youngster. "What's the matter?" He got no answer; the only sounds from Shane's mouth were small sobs. "Don't let it get to you," he said, trying to smile reassuringly, "I was just being a bit foolish. I would never have taken those pills, you know that." He didn't want anyone to know about what was happening, especially not Shane. He was way too sensitive to handle what Ronan was going through. A minute later, after a bit of comforting from Ronan, Shane seized his crying. "That's better," Ronan said warmly, "now let's go to sleep. We've got a long day ahead of-" "Ronan, you're bleeding," Shane interrupted. Ronan went completely silent as he stared at the young man in horror. He couldn't believe he had forgotten, that he had let Shane see that. How was he going to explain it? Oh, I found this dildo in Stephen's room and thought it might be a laugh! Don't think so. Without a word, Ronan went to the bathroom and cleaned up the blood, using some toilet paper to stop the bleeding. This wasn't the first time Shane made him bleed so he took care of his wounds quite expertly. Then he got the complimentary bathrobe and wrapped it around himself tightly, as if he believed that the more he covered, the less Shane would see. When he returned to the bedroom, he noticed that Shane wasn't looking at him, but staring at the floor instead. Ronan gently seated himself on the bed, wincing from the pain and then silently cursing himself for betraying his suffering. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" Ronan asked carefully, praying that Shane wouldn't go and tell Stephen or, even worse, the other Shane. "Not if you don't want me to," Shane replied, making Ronan sigh with relief. "But shouldn't you go to the police? You can't let them get away with this." Ronan sighed again, but this time with frustration. "Shane, just go to bed. I'll deal with this myself, okay?" But Shane was not giving up. "You can't just go on as if nothing happened!" he reasoned. "Are you deaf, or just stupid? Didn't I tell you to get out?" Ronan was fuming by now, and the youngster dared not but obey. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. "That's what you get for caring," he said shakily to himself as he walked down the hall, the tears returning to his eyes. Back in the room, Ronan just sat and stared at the door for a moment before falling back onto the bed. He covered his face with his hands, trying to get his thoughts together. 'You're not being fair to the poor kid,' he thought to himself. 'If it hadn't been for him you'd be dead by now.' But was that so bad? He sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time that evening, and started thinking of why he had almost killed himself, the reasons why he didn't want to live. Ronan knew there was no chance Shane would ever love him the way he loved him, but what he couldn't handle was the way his lover treated him. They were supposed to be boyfriends, for God's sake! And to think that the few people who knew they were together thought they were honky-dory. Ronan smiled grimly. 'I would pay to see Steeo's face if he found out his precious Shane rapes me,' he thought, 'he'd probably faint.' The only people who knew about them were Stephen, Eloy, Keith, Mike and their families. Not even their manager, Louis, knew. Ronan smiled as he recalled his mom's reaction when he'd told her he was gay and seeing Shane. She hadn't been surprised at all, she'd always known her youngest son was gay. "A mother's intuition," she called it. And she was fine with it. All she said was: "I just hope you'll always be happy together, Ronan, and he better treat you right or I'll be after him!" He was so glad his mom never found out how Shane really treated him; it would have destroyed her. Thinking about his mom was making Ronan feel incredibly lonely all of a sudden, and his empty surroundings weren't making it any better. He needed someone to hold him; he needed to feel warm and safe. And for that there was only one person he could turn to. The singer got up, fetched some boxers from his suitcase and put them on. He had forgotten his other pair in Shane's room. Usually they roomed together, but they had been fighting the day before they arrived (surprise, surprise) so they had both insisted on having separate rooms. After lunch that day, Ronan had gone to Shane's room to try and make up. But Shane was still angry, so after yelling at him for a while, he threw his boyfriend up against the wall and raped him. Ronan couldn't even remember what they had been fighting about, something incredibly petty and stupid like always. When he had tied the robe around his waist, Ronan turned the lights off and left his room. He quickly made his way over to Shane's room and knocked lightly. Ronan prayed Shane wouldn't be angry with him for waking him up, and that he had forgiven him by now for yesterday's quarrel. "Who is it?" came the sleepy but annoyed reply from inside the hotel room, and the harsh tone made Ronan want to turn around and run back to his room. "It's me, Ronan," he replied carefully, hoping Shane wouldn't notice the slight tremble in his voice. "Come in, it's open," Shane called back. Ronan could not tell whether his boyfriend's tone had changed, but he took no chances and braced himself before slowly opening the door and stepping inside the dark room. Just as he closed the door behind him, the room suddenly lit up. Shane was sitting up in the bed, half under the covers, and had turned the bedside lamp on. He had obviously been asleep, for his hair was every which way and his eyes were still adjusting to the sudden intrusion of the soft light cast by the lamp. Ronan smiled. His boyfriend seldom looked as adorable as he did when he had just woken up. "What is it?" Shane said before yawning sleepily. Ronan was relieved to hear that the earlier harshness had disappeared from his boyfriend's tone, and all his fears melted away at the sight of this beautiful figure looking at him questioningly. "Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?" Ronan asked sweetly, smiling as if nothing had happened. Shane grinned. "Just sleep?" he said suggestively, and Ronan prayed he was only joking. "Yes," Ronan replied in the same half-serious tone, "I couldn't take anymore after what you did today." Taking Shane's answer as a yes, he removed his robe and let it fall to the floor. "I knew you liked it," Shane said with a self-assured grin. Ronan didn't say anything, he just smiled and started getting into the bed. "Ah." Shane stopped him. "The boxers, too." Ronan obeyed and removed his underwear, revealing the whole of his smooth, almost hairless body. At Shane's request, Ronan had waxed his chest and legs, leaving only the hair on his private parts. He had even shaved his armpits. Ronan was relieved Shane hadn't insisted he'd wax the private area too, that'd looked stupid. The reason he gave for wanting Ronan to wax was that he liked "feeling Ronan's soft skin against his," as he had so persuasively put it. And since Ronan usually did everything Shane told him, he had gone through the painful process of having his body hair removed. He was very glad when Shane told him he had done it too, it made him feel less like a sex slave. And he had to admit, touching and being touched felt even better afterwards. Once he was naked, he could see Shane's eyes explore his boyfriend's body approvingly. He liked it when Shane looked at him. It reminded him that at least Shane liked him physically. But then his boyfriend dropped the bomb. "Have you put on weight?" Shane asked simply. All the colour drained from Ronan's face. Shane was right, he had put on a few pounds in the last few months. But he didn't think Shane would notice. "Only a bit," Ronan replied hastily. "I guess I haven't been getting enough exercise, that's all. It'll go away once I have more time to go out running and stuff." "That's good," Shane said, "you know how much I like you in good shape. Not saying you don't look good, just that you look even better when you're slim." The words hit Ronan like a sledgehammer. 'I'm fat,' he thought to himself, absolutely horrified at his discovery. 'He'll never love me if I'm fat.' "Come on, get into bed," Shane said as he lifted the covers. Ronan snapped out of his trance and climbed into bed next to his boyfriend. Shane pulled him to him and pressed him against his firm body. Ronan could feel that Shane was also naked, and that he was already quite aroused. He ran his hand down Ronan's back. When he slid his finger between Ronan's cheeks the blonde winced in pain. "You're right," Shane said as he removed his hand and ran it back up Ronan's back, "you are in bad form." Ronan smiled, mostly in relief that Shane wasn't going to fuck him again. "But there are other ways to have fun, aren't there baby?" 'Oh, well,' Ronan thought to himself as he threw the covers to the side, 'at least it won't hurt.' Once the covers were out of the way, Ronan straddled Shane's thighs. He wrapped his hand around Shane's now rock-hard member as he bent down and kissed his boyfriend on the lips. Kissing his beloved was, to Ronan, one of the best things in the world and he didn't want to let go. But after a while, he could feel Shane was getting impatient so he quickly broke the kiss. "I thought you'd never stop," Shane said as Ronan moved down his body, placing wet kisses all over his lover's muscular torso. But suddenly, before he reached his goal, Ronan quickly sat up and placed his knees on Shane's arms, and with that pinning them down. "Ronan, what the fuck are you doing!" Shane said sternly, but Ronan wasn't worried. "Don't worry, baby," he replied as he fastened a pair of handcuffs which dangled from the head of the bed around Shane's wrist. "You'll like it." When Shane realized what Ronan was playing at, a smile spread across his face. Even though he liked being on top, he didn't mind being the submissive one once in a while. Especially if it included a bit of old-fashioned bondage. When Ronan had fastened the second 'bracelet' he looked down at his lover. He was now straddling Shane's chest, so Ronan's erect cock was pointing straight at his boyfriend's face. Without a word, Ronan shoved his member into Shane's mouth, making him gag as the organ plunged down his unprepared throat. But Ronan could tell Shane liked it, he liked anything that was rough. He hadn't been in Shane's mouth for long when he felt his orgasm begin to build up. As Ronan came nearer and nearer to the inevitable, he pulled out. He didn't want to finish this just yet. He moved himself down, so that he was again straddling his lover's thighs. Reaching down he engulfed Shane's erect cock in his mouth, and expertly brought Shane to a fast but intense orgasm. When he had swallowed Shane's load, he sat up slowly, a quite evil grin spreading across his face. "Now what are you up to?" Shane said, but obviously loving every minute of this little game his boyfriend was playing. Ronan said nothing, he just reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer. He searched blindly until he found the bottle of lubricant he'd been seeking. "Of course," Shane said with a smile. "But don't be too hard on me, baby. Just because you like it don't mean I want to walk around with a bleeding ass." Ronan, who had been busy removing the cap on the bottle, snapped his head up. Like it? LIKE IT?! His blood was boiling. He couldn't believe Shane had said that to his face! Did he truly believe that Ronan liked having his body ravaged like that by his own boyfriend? Ronan threw the lubricant away. A surprised look crossed Shane's face. "What are you doing?" Ronan didn't answer; he just spread Shane's legs and positioned himself for entry. "Ronan!" Shane was almost yelling now. "You are not doing this-" Ronan shut him up by slapping him across the face. The look on Shane's face was almost comical, if Ronan hadn't been so infuriated he would have laughed at the sight. But this was no time for jokes. It was time to get revenge.