If, eight months ago, somebody had told Brendon that he was to become the new frontman of an explosively successful, young and unique band that he himself had fallen instantly in love with when he first heard their debut record, he would have laughed in their faces but maybe wistfully imagined what that kind of life would be like. Never mind he would get to hang around with the people he kind of musically looked up to- guys his age, being as successful as they were almost effortlessly- he would also be able to do what he loved; sing. Not just to a weak crowd of lunchgoers who were only half listening. Not just people too drunk to actually register his talent. He wanted to sing for people who wanted to listen. Brendon had aspirations to improve his writing, too, and had been doing so whenever he could, even adopting the tactic of just carrying a notebook around and writing in it whenever any tiniest spark of inspiration hit him, whether that was between waiting tables for Joey, or out drinking with his friends at the weekends, or just sitting at home, absently watching cars pass by. He never showed anyone, though- Brendon didn’t think anybody would particularly care, apart from Joey, but he was kind of reluctant anyway.

Anyway, a month down the line, Brendon had signed what he needed to sign and was now not only a member of the band, but the frontman and lead singer. Ryan still retained the roll of lead lyricist, because he was still obviously the most adept where that was concerned, and Brendon initially had no problem with this. If they all sticked to their talents, it would work. Luckily, because of their similar ages and interest, all the members clicked straight away; it was like Brendon had always been there, and he quickly became a central force, a natural leader and a great friend to all three of his bandmates. Spencer, he noted, was probably the most approachable, and Ryan’s best friend since childhood- the two had started the band together. Jon had joined later, and didn’t quite fit into the emo-cabaret aesthetic they had going on in the first record, instead wearing sandals and sweatshirts all the time, but he still fit. Ryan was probably the most reserved, even though his stage persona was surprisingly confident when it needed to be; Brendon noticed that for a man of all his musical and lyrical talent, he wasn’t exactly self assured about his own prowess- but god, was he stubborn.

Brendon grew to love them all very quickly, through re-recording and practising songs from Fever, and taking part in compulsory interviews where most of the questions were directed at him, as the new frontman and the most obviously comfortable in the spotlight, friendly and adaptable of them all. It seemed a welcome break for Ryan, who was tired of talking so much. Brendon understood the band to an extent that he pretty much covered everything, even one day touching on the reason Ryan wanted to be replaced- he felt he hadn’t a voice confident enough for his confident sounding lyrics. Because Brendon was adamant about being fully intergrated, he tended to ask a lot of questions about the subject matter- particularly the more personal stuff, like Camisado and Nails for Breakfast. Initally, Ryan was very closed off. He still didn’t really know- just what he could speculate, and that it was to do with a family member close to him. He tried not to push too hard.

Seven down the line, Brendon and Ryan had grown even closer. Somewhere between stupid inside jokes and profound conversations about music and literature, they grew to understand eachother more and more. Seven months ago, Brendon would have never imagined this. For a while, he thought he’d grown out of his crush, but had recently accepted it would probably stick around for a long time. It was driving him crazy. Anyway, by this time, they were getting not-so-subtle hints from the label to hurry the hell up and write a new record, so the four of them kind of spontaneously agreed to Jon’s suggestion- they all go stay in a cabin in the mountains somewhere, draw artistic inspiration from nature or something. Ryan loved the idea, Brendon just loved the prospect of spending so much time with them, Spencer didn’t really have a choice. Not even a week later they were in a cabin by a lake, as secluded and remote as they came.

It was beautiful. They had an amazing view, and though the cabin was small, it was homely, and the great spaces and nature around them meant that if any arguments from being kind of cramped broke out, one party could quickly just leave to go stand by the lake or wander the outskirts of the woods to cool off. It was usually Brendon doing this. That particular evening, it was misty, and the view was kind of obscured. Mountains rose up dramatically, the lake was grey and glassy, and a light drizzle of rain caused tiny ripples on the surface. The sky was grey, but the horizon was smudged purple as the sun began to fall, not quite setting. He was writing, sitting on a worn log down by the pebbled lakeshore, writing some lyrics that had been stirred around in his head all day. Brendon looked up- his glasses were adorned with tiny droplets- and ran a hand absently through his slightly tousled hair, his expression neutral, his eyes dark and his eyelashes low. He wondered what this memory would mean to him in the future, and exhaled. Things had changed.

Jolted out of his kind of dramatic self-reflection, he heard footsteps behind him, crunching onto the pebbles. He glanced over his shoulder- it was Ryan. He greeted him with a tiny smile, silently inviting him to sit beside him on the log. Ryan did. “Hey, Ry,” He said, softly, biting down gently on his lip and closing the notebook, laying it down on the pebbles. ”You okay? Joining me for the sunset? Just in time.” Brendon looked back over at the lake briefly- then decided there were better views, and turned back to look at his bandmate. There was a long pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. “You look good.”

A band formed in high school, poorly planned out and short-staffed, really only stood strong the way that it did with a common ground. Ryan and Spencer were both kind of distant from any real social circle, only had each other to reach out to - they wanted to be heard over anything. That encompassed a lot of smaller things, of course, like being understood and not necessarily appreciated if it had to be forced, but any constructive critique would prove they were worth someone's time anyway. Better than nothing. They built up members not by obviously asking if they were the same way, but if anyone showed that they fit in, of course they'd be taken under Panic's proverbial wing. Jon was the first 'official' third member (every other bassist they'd kind of hated but suffered through in order to play anything at all), rational but still humorous, and sort of a control over Spencer and Ryan's often far-fetched ideas for the band. They were all pretty lonely, then, until they were first able to generate real, close-to-home music. Sometimes hard to understand, in all honesty, which was likely what made it easier to perform - there was a far less vulnerable feeling then.

Ryan had his doubts even at the height of their success. In fact he'd been in denial of their flaws whenever Spencer (or even Jon, when the other bailed) brought them to light, stubbornly refusing to change for the sake of a 'brand' - or something along those lines. When they really couldn't find a singer that would redeem them, and no a frontman that they explored complimented their personal styles, and compromises couldn't be made - he started to accept that they'd probably peaked pretty early, then, and it was only a niche following thus far. Ryan even considered re-enrolling in school towards the close of their first tour just in case, requesting transcripts from his high school, looking into scholarship programs and if he'd qualify for any at all. It wasn't all hopeless, per se, because Ryan still thought that making their own individual music would work just as well. He'd grown resigned to the possibility of their label either giving up on their contract or them having to bail themselves out. Then, conveniently, there was Brendon.

He was discovered in probably the weirdest but best way ever - Ryan picked him out of a crowd of ~100 people, gave him the mic, and Brendon was ready to absolutely demolish one of their most popular tracks. Needless to say the fellow audience probably wanted him in the band as much as Ryan instantly did. Blessed with the luck that Brendon hadn't already been picked up by some talent scout, they quickly recruited him, and he easily blended in with the rest. He was obviously on the already-established common grounds, clearly not heard the way that he deserved to be by patrons or friends or whomever could have possibly heard him. The quick cure was making him frontman, and no one, not even their modest cult following, had any objections to the new member once they heard his voice. (Ryan also argued that it was his face - "I mean, look at him." People usually agreed with him there, too).

Brendon was better than a voice for their respective instruments - he also turned out to be a recognizable face for them as a whole, was the largest personality of all of them. One would assume he was so new that he'd never know how to respond to the limelight, much less personal questions about the band; of course people usually weren't aware that he was both a huge fan prior to joining, nor did they know that Ryan spent essentially all his time around Brendon. It was easy with the others, since they could just watch the songs develop and unfold the meanings as they wished, but explaining his writing and the reason it sounded a certain way when played, etc., all of that was hard to do at once and without feeling pretty lame. Ryan veered from giving too much away about some tracks, dodging them with something general, and was glad that Brendon only ever delved with questions when it was to better himself.

Ryan actually grew to prefer Brendon's company over anyone else's. Of course he didn't close himself off to others or anything crazy like that, but he found himself thinking of how Brendon might react to some show he was watching or what he was doing at that given moment or how his whole person lit up when he laughed. Ryan was a little ridiculous about it all, writing vague pieces on his blog and promptly ignoring all comments speculating what it was about (incorrectly, funnily enough). It was an odd feeling, because in the past Spencer was the only one he could spend over five minutes with, and Jon had wiggled his way in to that club over a long period of time. With Brendon, it was easy. It was a good thing he'd gotten used to having them around for hours at a time, then, because their solution to the delay of their second album was to compile all of their brittle ideas into something useful in a cabin free of distractions.

Ryan ran out of space in his own journal a good two days in and ended up using the cabin's complimentary stationery, ending up favoring it over actually getting something new. Besides, it was easy to discern the old from the new this way, and he was trying hard to forget some of his dumb, incomplete original ideas for the record. The new vibe was far softer than the last, in fact a complete 180; he wasn't worried about pleasing anyone's tastes there, and was actually pretty sure the rest of them couldn't care less either so long as they liked it themselves. His inspiration came from this place itself, his newfound view on his friends since they were crammed together even longer than the tour bus, the times spent with Brendon where they'd run off somewhere and leave their bandmates kind of in the dust.

Sometimes he just naturally knew where Brendon would be and gravitated to him without giving it much thought at all. On his first try he found Brendon by the lake, and he suppressed a knowing smile; it was a wonder he'd be able to see this close to shore. He wished he could walk silently, cause no disturbance at all, but alas he ended up interrupting the peaceful scene by wandering down to where Brendon sat. "Hey," was the first dry word he could muster, and he realised after a whole day sectioning himself off to try writing words or repetitive tabs or anything productive he hadn't used his voice at all. Brendon didn't seem to mind it, just returning the greeting and setting his own work aside. Ryan's gaze automatically followed the book, wondering when they'd all be introduced to Brendon's genius in its entirety.

You okay? Joining me for the sunset? Just in time. Ryan nodded to all, feeling his voice return and trying again. As he spoke he absently retrieved a pebble from the ground, turning it over in his hands. "I'm alright. Glad I found you - I've been playing the same chord for an hour trying to get it right." He laughed a little, matching Brendon when he looked over the lake, but his attention remained there a few moments longer before he turned to meet Brendon's gaze. He wondered what he was thinking, then how lame it would be if he cleaned his glasses for him, then was willing himself not to since it so contradicted the serene circumstances. So, very lame. You look good. Ryan suddenly wasn't wondering anything at all, gaze dropping to Brendon's shoulder when he smiled sheepishly.

His fingers went white around the pebble in his hands, pressing too tightly before loosening up. "You do, too, Brendon," he said easily, like it was common sense, then skipped the pebble over the water just so he didn't have to hold eye contact in all his shyness. Funny how he still got that way after so long. "You always do." Naturally he lightly bumped his shoulder against Brendon's, turning back finally to watch how the sun's gradually less powerful rays illuminated his features. His first instinct was to make some sort of joke, but he couldn't think of anything quite fitting. "Not sick of us already, are you?" He half-smiled, thinking if Brendon had escaped out here he was certainly just avoiding the symphony of three, all mismatched instruments practicing different sections. Glad for it, though - being in his own company all day, it felt oddly refreshing to find him again.

Though Brendon was, for the most part, happy with the fact that Ryan was still the chief lyricist, and he greatly admired his talent, he did sort of want some creative input. Singing was all well and good, but it wasn’t especially inventive; he had things he wanted to say, maybe not as profound or as complex as Ryan’s subject matter, but he wanted to say them all the same. So, while Ryan and Jon had worked on other things, Brendon often didn’t get involved with their little song projects, and instead excused himself to work on random lyrics of his own. So far, he didn’t have a full song, just fragments of verses, words and phrases he wanted to use, people and emotions and inspirations and everything he wanted to fit into a period of three minutes, average. Brendon didn’t know how Ryan did it- fit so much into such a short period of time. Sometimes, he considered just talking to him about it, asking him for some advice, maybe, but Brendon was kind of too proud for his own good, and besides, some of the things- and people- he wanted to write about was sort of embarrassing if the wrong person found out. So, he soldiered on, finding peace by himself when he could.

This was one of those rare moments of stillness. Brendon was, in a sense, a live wire, burning with energy and passion and a sense of urgency. When he was subdued, mellow, tranquil, it was strange, almost alien, though at the same time he seemed part of the landscape, matching it for its dynamics and drama. At this moment, his feet were crunching in the pebbles, his hair was stirred by the breeze, his skin adorned with tiny raindrops, hunched over slightly to protect his notebook from the drizzle. It wasn’t like he could have stayed like that for very long- he had too much energy to stay still for long periods of time- but since he was absorbed in his work at that moment, if Ryan hadn’t have interrupted, he probably would have finished. Instead, he closed the notebook, having finished on the lines i’m not complaining that it’s raining, i’m just saying that i’d like it a lot more than you think if the sun would come out and sing with me. He wasn’t sure what would become of it- but he had a title.

Brendon put it out of sight and mind for the moment and turned his attentions to what he considered more important- Ryan, who greeted him with a half-smile and a rather dry ‘Hey’. Amused, he raised an eyebrow, and fanned his hand out towards the lake. “Need some water?” When Ryan sat beside him, he automatically moved a little closer, inclining his head to pay full attention. I’m alright. Glad I found you- I’ve been playing the same chord for an hour trying to get it right. He laughed a little, tipping his head back thoughtfully. “An hour you could have spent out here with me. I mean- If you wouldn’t- Never mind.” Dismissively, sheepishly, he shrugged his shoulders, and raised his head again, reaching to adjust his glasses slightly. He couldn’t see out of them very well right now anyway, so he gave up and took them off, wiping them half-heartedly on his shirt.

His attention was drawn by Ryan’s hand clenching around a pebble, and his face betrayed nothing except mild curiosity. You do, too, Brendon. He heard the pebble skip and then splash, but he was looking at Ryan, feeling suddenly like he was too close and way too far away at the same time. You always do. A faint smile threatened to break his neutral expression, just as the sun’s evening rays broke through the trees as it set. He gave in quickly, but looked down at his feet. Not sick of us already, are you? Brendon thanked God that Ryan, in that instance, was a little better at carrying on conversation. Brendon was sort of flustered, because his heart was aching for some reason and he wondered whether the reason for that was sat beside him. “Nah.” He paused, suddenly doubtful. “Okay, so maybe Spencer and Jon. Don’t tell them. I haven’t- I don’t think I could get sick of you. I don’t think I will any time soon.”

Brendon’s voice was soft and gentle, and with those words in the air, he still refused to look Ryan in the eyes (they were honey-coloured and made his heart flutter ridiculously in a way he thought didn’t actually happen). Instead, he moved even closer, and tilted his head to rest it comfortably on his bandmate’s shoulder, the height difference just enough so it was pretty much perfect. His glasses were hooked into the neckline of his shirt, and he exhaled gently, looking out at the horizon. “I was writing just now.”

If all he was going by was their individual energies, Ryan definitely wouldn't have guessed that Brendon was the silhouette by the lake. He'd grown familiar with Brendon's perpetual strikes of vitality, where it seemed like he had some everlasting battery to keep up with social interaction or creating music or the physical exertion that came with performing onstage. Other times it wasn't so productive, where all the vigour translated into him wanting to do seventeen different things at once, likely forgetting a project once in a while. Ryan had witnessed his hyperactivity firsthand, and now he was even more familiar with the calmer side of Brendon far away in the cabin. He'd set his mind on one task and, even if incomplete, make impressive progress, or appreciate the environment most would glaze over. Ryan was a little reluctant to break what potentially could be a writing streak, but it'd been all day, and besides someone needed to remind him to go to sleep before it was a ridiculous hour.

Hyper or peaceful, Brendon maintained the same humor as usual. Need some water? Ryan grinned, leaning closer to Brendon in a lazier mirror of his movements. He thought fleetingly about making some noncommittal joke about pushing Brendon in, real grade school-style revenge, but then that was daring Brendon to throw it back at him. Instead, he complained, first thing. An hour you could have spent out here with me. I mean- If you wouldn’t- Never mind. Relating entirely too much to Brendon's quick backtracking - though it was unusual for Brendon, which was a little concerning - and wanting to throw him a lifeline, he nodded in full agreement. "No, really, I definitely wish I'd done that," he confirmed in an amused tone, watching as Brendon quickly occupied himself with his glasses. He snuck a glance over again, appalled by how someone could defeat the stereotype by looking perfect with or without glasses, and maybe it'd be weird to voice that involuntary thought. Ryan decided to keep it.

It was odd here; they were never even vaguely uncomfortable around the other, generally not that awkward unless you counted Ryan's dumb shyness, but this felt different. Maybe not uncomfortable or awkward, 'cause those both had bad connotations usually, but different. Unfamiliar territory, but he was nervous-excited to explore it. He felt a sort of relief each time they spoke, actually, like a weight off his chest. Nah. Okay, so maybe Spencer and Jon. Don’t tell them. Looking dubious, Ryan looked over his shoulder. They could probably hear even through distance and walls. I haven’t- I don’t think I could get sick of you. I don’t think I will any time soon. Ryan's grin of amusement from the worried 'don't tell them' faded marginally, turning into a fond smile, but anyway Brendon couldn't look directly at him either. Ryan was pretty pleased about that, actually, 'cause the usual confidence would just make him more clumsy.

With Brendon's head against his shoulder, Ryan felt a little less under a spotlight, more like the two of them were tangled somehow. He wrapped an arm around Brendon's waist to support him, contemplating dumb things like resting his head against Brendon's or smoothing his hair out of his face where some lone strands drifted out, and ultimately decided he'd just keep his gaze on the water. "Me neither," he admitted, then, more amused, "It could be three minutes since I last saw you, and I'd miss you. It's kind of funny." It was, to him - only because if they were being honest, this was probably not the weirdest thing he'd ever said to Brendon. I was writing just now. Ryan ducked his head like he was trying to see Brendon, interested as ever, and a half-smile lit up his features. Here - maybe this was the invitation.

"Yeah?" Ryan stealthily used his free hand to unhook Brendon's glasses, unfolding then pushing them up his nose in an overexaggerated fashion. His reading glasses, now, evidently. "Tell me about it?" More of a question than a demand; he knew it was probably not something Brendon was totally ready to share, so he'd be lucky if he got to put his new 'reading glasses' to use.

Brendon didn’t particularly believe in fate, or destiny, but in a traditional sense that’s what this all seemed to be- that, or really good luck. At first, this had all been about playing for a band, performing, as this had been what he’d wanted to do since he first started playing instruments in the form of the first fender he ever bought. Since then, he had tried to play around 20 instruments, maybe more, and was adept in many, including but not limited to piano, guitar, and drums. Obviously, singing was still his chief talent, and his most recognisable. He’d be wasted as anything but a frontman. But that kind of wasn’t what this was about any more- in eight short months, he’d made free friends he planned on keeping forever, and one in particular who made an impact on him that was kind of nervous about. Brendon hadn’t really felt about anyone the way he felt about Ryan before, so it was all foreign to him, all uncharted territory. In fact, he was still kind of just ignoring it for the sake of the band. And the sake of his own heart- self protection. If he never did anything about it, he could never get hurt; Brendon hadn’t approached- or not approached- things like this before, but then this was new. It was just easier.

For all the promises he made himself, apparently his lack of self control meant that that plan wasn’t about to go into action. Instead, he invited Ryan to sit beside him and suggested watching the sunset, the moved consciously closer. Nothing about this was going to plan, but in the moment, he didn’t care. No, really, I definitely wish I’d done that. Brendon smiled kind of gratefully at Ryan for throwing him a line, but said nothing for a while. He wondered what they’d be doing right now if Ryan had been by his side for the past hour. Brendon was driving himself crazy just thinking about it, so he exhaled conclusively, swivelling his feet into the pebbles to get to the damp earth of the lakeshore underneath. The rain was making the round stones shiny, and he followed Ryan’s actions prior, picking one up and skimming it across the lake to draw attention away from himself, suddenly extremely aware of the lack of distance between them. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

When he spoke next, Ryan cared more about Spencer and Jon hearing than he did, and he was kind of unsettled, but didn’t question it. However, when Ryan’s arm wrapped around his waist, he felt the electricity of the contact and shivered, hoping it could be excused as the cold. ”Don’t let them see us like this,” He mentioned quietly, slightly amused, “I have heard them ask why you’re flirting with me. They know I’m not deaf, right?” Brendon wasn’t kind of forgetting how thin the walls were here, and though he knew Spencer and Jon weren’t blind or oblivious to the tension between him and Ryan, he didn’t really care whether they did or not. He only wondered if Ryan did, and closed his eyes, trying to press close and steal some of his bandmate’s body heat. He was comfortable, and was happy with no more talk, but Ryan was speaking again. Me neither. It could be three minutes since I last saw you, and I’d miss you.

”Three minutes is a long time, actually. I’m kind of offended,” He murmured, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He hesitated for a moment. “I dunno what it is. I just... I like being near you.” Brendon admitted, his voice wavering a little. Yeah? He nodded, and went to speak again, but Ryan had interrupted by reaching to unhook Brendon’s glasses from his shirt. Simply watching, he raised an eyebrow as Ryan put them on, and considered his bandmate for a moment, deciding that he looked pretty good and also that he was kind of screwed. He was saved by Ryan inquiring about his writing, but not really, because his subject matter was sitting right beside him, too close but still painfully far away. It hit him suddenly that he wanted to kiss him. It would be easy, he’d just have to lean up, he’d never get a better opportunity. Brendon took a deep breath.

”I Have Friends In Holy Spaces.” He said softly, looking out at the lake for a moment. “A song. Or, part of a song. Sounds kind of dumb when I say it out loud.” Brendon admitted, and he was doubtful, regretting mentioning it. “I don’t really know... What it’s about. Does a song have to have a specific goal?” He wondered out loud, figuring that of everybody to ask, Ryan was probably the expert. Anything to distract him and stop him from ruining it by doing something impulsive, as Brendon was reknowned to do.

Ryan’s interpretation of his relationship with Brendon was very simple: undecided. In fact he did his best not to give it much thought at all, beyond their first meeting. He was kind of obvious about his minor first-sight crush then but never worked up to any invitations out, at least not specifically romantic; once Brendon was really starting to integrate into the band as if he’d been there the whole way through, Ryan knew he had to get over it. So he pretended that every little charming thing Brendon did didn’t throw him for a loop, convinced himself that Brendon bringing his lyrics to life wasn’t the most incredible feat ever, etc. It’s not that he felt bad about it or ashamed - he was long past high school insecurities - but the potential backfire of him acting on his feelings was a little too scary. After all he’d put his entire goddamn soul into this band and splitting it down the middle right when things were looking up would probably break him.

Despite his efforts, Ryan was somewhat transparent. Even if he never said anything incriminating, he still looked for slightly too long, carried himself more carefully around Brendon, generally treated him with a bias. He probably would have closed himself off to the other two more than hung around them had this cabin trip only involved the original trio, for example. Brendon was easily the light he gravitated toward for warmth - or that’s the corny metaphor he tended to use in his head, anyway. Spencer caught on within the first week and never let him live it down, rolling his eyes when Ryan turned down an invitation over and making a lighthearted comment about his ‘new best friend.’ Jon was a mystery - he looked all-knowing, but then again he did with everything, and maybe Ryan was fooling himself. If he did know, he was nice enough not to comment. Brendon, he assumed, wasn’t totally blind nor completely ignorant to his own allure, so he must’ve had some inkling if not total awareness of the situation. Ryan himself had no idea what to think Brendon might feel for him beyond a sense of fond companionship, because he didn’t want to get his hopes up or believe in a dream out of his reach, nevermind all the signs of it being plausible. Namely, the exact same tension in the air that surrounded them now.

Don’t let them see us like this. Ryan grinned, mostly amused by the idea, ‘cause they’d just get a bunch of jokes at their expense rather than get in any trouble. Maybe. Ryan wasn’t totally convinced Spencer wouldn’t call him an idiot for getting too invested. I have heard them ask why you’re flirting with me. They know I’m not deaf, right? Ryan looked at Brendon with surprise at the word ‘flirting,’ wondering how he could be so direct when they danced around each other all the time. He laughed softly, the sound catching in his throat, then shrugged the shoulder opposite Brendon as casually as he could. ”You noticed?” he asked in jest, shaking his head and trying to suppress his nervous smile. ”Dumb question, anyway. The reasons ‘why’ are pretty obvious.” If Brendon could say that stuff so easily Ryan supposed he could try his hand at it as well.

Three minutes is a long time, actually. I’m kind of offended. Ryan laughed again, short and easy, because that was way closer to sounding like Brendon’s natural personality. In fact, all of this was getting much simpler to navigate. I dunno what it is. I just... I like being near you. Scratch that - that wasn’t simple at all, because Ryan definitely felt a rush of warmth at that despite the vague chill around them. In his case he definitely knew what it was: his dumb, clearly massive crush that he’d ignored and accidentally let grow beyond his control this entire time. He didn’t realise it was that bad prior to this conversation, though. And admittedly he may be completely foolish for playing along to his affection fueled whims, what with very nearly cuddling Brendon and delivering the most obvious lines in the history of ever and stealing his glasses to wear himself. At least he was more confident in Brendon maybe possibly reciprocating than he’d ever been previously.

I Have Friends In Holy Spaces. Even the title sounded brilliant. Ryan made an effort to not look too enamoured, and luckily Brendon wasn’t looking at him anyway. A song. Or, part of a song. Sounds kind of dumb when I say it out loud. Ryan shook his head immediately, knowing he was occasionally too critical and wondering whether he should comment at all. But he only really had issues when, as a band, they were all coming up with awful ideas, and Ryan’s patience with the prospect of teamwork was running short. This, though, was fine - he was pretty sure Brendon could show him something that looked like it was written by a three year old and he’d think it was revolutionary. So, yeah, he kind of held Brendon on a pedestal. I don’t really know... What it’s about. Does a song have to have a specific goal? ”It doesn’t sound dumb. I really like it,” he said honestly, turning his head best he could to Brendon, speaking mostly to his hairline. ”I never know what I want to write, honestly. It’ll start out as one song, then I realize that I’ve been writing about two different subjects, and suddenly I’ve got two new songs in progress rather than one.” He looked amused despite how annoying that process was, like he’d conveniently forgotten the entire frustrating day. Ryan looked off again at the water. ”Stream of consciousness. But - I don’t think you’ll have a problem writing lyrics, considering you have a natural talent for everything else musical.” He was going on for too long, probably, but it was far easier than addressing what the hell they were doing. ”What do you have so far?”

Brendon, also, went to great lengths to pretend that he didn’t feel as strongly about Ryan as he really did- or at least, strongly in s certain way. They were still pretty much best friends, but it felt natural, not like Brendon had just barged in and taken places. He was too lovable for people to complain that much when Ryan suddenly decided the best person to spend time with was him. This was good, of course- they worked well together, had a strange, complimentary dynamic- but it just meant Brendon had to strive to give the impression at Ryan’s eyes didn’t make his insides melt a little, that the tiniest little brush felt electric, that his laugh didn’t trigger a rush of intense affection every time. This wasn’t just friendship he was feeling, Brendon had never bothered denying it. He just had to keep his feeling under lock and key until they went away on their own- though, the more time it took, the less Brendon was thinking it was just some regular crush. This he avoided addressing completely. It was too daunting.

So was being so close to his fellow bandmate- the arm around his waist shouldn’t have made him so on edge but so blissfully relaxed at the same time, and pressing his side against Ryan’s shouldn’t have made him shiver. He didn’t care, though, not really, because he was warm, and comfortable, and about as close as he could be without it seeming like something else was going on. Though he supposed they were past that point, unless Brendon had misread the situation so wrongly. He didn’t want to dwell on this, though, and just moved on to lighthearted joking, even if the subtext was still rampant through the tamest words he could possibly conjure. Amusement lilted his voice, and he figured the best way to hide was in plain sight- so he addressed it head-on, much to Ryan’s sudden surprise. ‘Flirting’ probably wasn’t the right word to use, but it required no clarification. Brendon still hadn’t moved his head from his bandmate’s shoulder, growing too comfortable. You noticed? Laughing, he nudged Ryan, mischievousness glinting in his eyes and his eyebrows raising as he pretended to consider the question, even if he already knew the answer. Both of them did. “The next time you try to undress me with your eyes, give me a shout and I’ll make your life easier.”

That was kind of dubious. At this point, Brendon didn’t even know whether he was kidding or not and just laughed breathlessly again, hoping to dispel the subject quickly before he thought about it too long and hard. Dumb question, anyway. The reasons ‘why’ are pretty obvious. Swiftly, his brief moments of confidence and general flirtatiousness faltered, and he felt his face flush, his cheekbones dusted pink as he failed to hold back an uncharacteristically shy smile. God, nobody could do this to him except Ryan, and it was getting annoying. “Enlighten me,” He challenged, then thought better of it because this could spell an end to all the composure he (thought) he had. “Actually, no. My ego is already too inflated. I hardly fit in the cabin anymore.” Ryan was still laughing, and he felt like kissing him. Again. The urge was strong and he had to physically keep himself back from ruining whatever it was they already had.

Luckily, the subject was changed and and Brendon could get Ryan talking about music and lyrics for long enough that they both forgot the rather tense conversation they had been having. With the mention of a song came Ryan’s immediate enthusiasm- it was endearing- and also the opportunity to escape the situation. It doesn’t sound dumb. I really like it. “Haven’t heard it yet, don’t get your hopes up.” I never know what I want to write, honestly. It’ll start out as one song, then I realize that I’ve been writing about two different subjects, and suddenly I’ve got two new songs in progress rather than one.” Instantly, Camisado and Nails for Breakfast were the songs he linked that to- same theme, different aspects. Brendon kind of desperately wanted the details, if only so he could understand the songs better, and more importantly, understand Ryan. He was still a very enclosed person. Brendon wanted to know everything Ryan was willing to share, even if it took forever to fully gain his trust.

Stream of consciousness. But- I don’t think you’ll have a problem writing lyrics, considering you have a natural talent for everything else musical. He almost scoffed doubtfully. It had never been his strong suit, even if he didn’t particularly want to admit it was a weakness. What do you have so far? Brendon considered singing to him for a second, then reluctantly moved away to reach down and pick up his notebook, discarded in the pebbles. He handed it over, already missing his body heat, and flicked it to the right page before dropping his hands into his lap.

The next time you try to undress me with your eyes, give me a shout and I’ll make your life easier. Ryan’s breath stopped in his throat and he wondered how to take that one; Brendon was, after all, much quicker than him, and Ryan learned much more witty about it. Not shocking, considering he heard these quips practically every day of his life, but still - hearing them in practice and directed at him was very new. Not bad, though, Ryan discovered; he didn’t have a problem with it at all. It was just the fact that the only response he could muster was beyond weak, both in content and intonation. ”I’ll keep it in mind,” he murmured quietly, trying not to let his voice betray him, and felt distantly that he should be saying things to dodge implications. Like, ‘no thanks, Bren, don’t need to see that,’ or something else friends would realistically say to one another. Too late for that, though.

Even worse, he continued with their back-and-forth, and was delighted by Brendon’s reaction. That sort of smile was rare from Brendon but possibly even more endearing than the usual and Ryan realised he was definitely in way too deep. He made a secret promise to himself that he’d try to get that out of Brendon more often. Enlighten me. Perfect opportunity. Ryan’s loop around his side grew tighter for half a second while he considered - like he really needed a reminder he was there - but Brendon backed out. Actually, no. My ego is already too inflated. I hardly fit in the cabin anymore. Ryan had honestly never been disappointed that he wasn’t complimenting somebody before, and considered just going on spilling every little thing he appreciated about Brendon anyway, but that’d likely be crossing the line that he’d already trampled over and blurred for himself. He kept it to himself but turned a meaningful look Brendon’s way for a moment, uncharacteristically calm given the circumstances.

At the mention of Brendon’s song - and the honor of him asking for Ryan’s advice of all people - Ryan had to put things in perspective to answer honestly, consider all his earliest writings. Some songs off the first album were virtually conceptually the same, painting pictures of similar color but different content, if one looked past the diction and into the stories behind them. Like But It’s Better If You Do and Lying, arguably even Build God. Some were fairly obvious despite how secretive and vague Ryan tried to be. They were both themed in a hospital setting, him the ‘kid in a fight/with no fight’ and some other mystery figure a repeated offender for emergency services. He did indeed begin writing one song originally before it branched into another, evident in the similarity between verses and not just setting: you've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame opposed to ...on first name basis with all the top physicians.

He himself wasn’t confident in his abilities sometimes, and even more than that wasn’t confident in his own advice, so maybe he should’ve let Brendon work out a methodology on his own, but. If he wanted a starting point, there was one. Haven’t heard it yet, don’t get your hopes up. Little late. His hopes were always up with Brendon; he was never disappointed. He saw the doubt crossing Brendon’s features when he asked to see the work completed thus far, then the consideration, and couldn’t hold back a grateful smile at such a display of trust when Brendon broke away to retrieve his notebook. It probably looked like nothing to someone who hadn’t written this way before - in most cases, songwriting was someone spilling the contents of their soul onto a page, a completely vulnerable endeavor, and it never felt perfect enough to share. Ryan was glad he could break through that layer of insecurity. Although he did miss their original positioning, he took the journal carefully, keeping his fingers along the edges of the page as if he was risking ruining a hundred year old book. Dramatic, really.

The glasses joke had run its course but he could see through them pretty well anyway - shit, maybe he should see an optometrist - so he read through the broken pieces of what Brendon had thus far. They were written at different intervals, obviously, the penmanship more careful or more scraggly or more heavy in different places. More importantly the content already sounded like the beginnings of a very successful song, heartwarming in a way Ryan found difficult to capture. There was a complete beginning, from the words You remind me of a former love that I once knew to it’s fine with me, I'm just taking in the scenery, then ideas scattered around the page and incomplete verses waiting for the right words. I'm not complaining that it's raining, I'm just saying that I'd like it a lot... more than you think, if the sun would come out and sing with me. Ryan found that he wore the faintest smile, and suddenly these felt even more personal than lyrics, like Brendon entrusted him with his normal thoughts. He took another moment to wonder at the beginnings of the chorus, analyzing it all already, and realized belatedly that he was getting ahead of himself.

”Brendon,” he finally said in a small voice, looking up again. ”This is amazing. I can’t believe you were so worried about it, I mean...” He stopped himself from going on a ‘from an English major dropout standpoint’ lyrical analysis tangent and instead offered the journal back to Brendon. He felt basically the same as when he first handed the mic over, all shocked and impressed and inspired, though this didn’t come as huge a surprise as that now that he knew Brendon. ”It’s beautiful. I can hear you in the words already.”

With that next little quip, Brendon was only half-joking; even though he tried to seem even a little lighthearted about it, when he saw that Ryan looked like a deer caught in headlights and replied with a semi-serious sounding I’ll keep it in mind, He felt himself heat up, suddenly even more on board than he’d been when he had been the one to suggest it. Enamoured, and now kind of touch-starved even if he was sitting right next to Ryan with no empty space between them, different kinds of thoughts were in his head and he had to shake himself out of his daze, even if he moved a hand to Ryan’s side and curled it around, and turned his head a little further into his shoulder. “You can hold me to that.” He grinned, ignoring the next thought in his mind, which was ‘you can hold me against anything you want’. He had no idea what had gotten into him and he was a little stunned by his own sudden change of airs, but he quickly managed to regulate his feelings and just keep smiling into his shoulder, the hand curled around Ryan’s waist not moving.

Suddenly, Ryan’s gentle grip of his side tightened a little, and he was a little startled, but then he relaxed, figuring he could definitely get used to this. He was at risk of being complimented more- usually a blessing Brendon accepted and even encouraged, but from Ryan they just made him flush, and nobody had done that to him before. Brendon didn’t recognise the parts of him that Ryan brought out- bravado gone, a sort of shyness in its place, endearingly flustered. To prevent this, he stopped Ryan before he could start, deciding that the physical contact alone was pushing him over the line he tried desperately not to cross. Even if he wanted to. The unknowns were just too many and the potential problems caused were too great- he doubted Jon and Spencer would forigive if him he joined their band, usurped the lead singer, hooked up with said lead singer (or anything more serious), and then cause problems by upsetting the dynamic.

He reminded himself that songwriting had been the purpose of this trip, not to have some alone time with his new best friend. To keep himself on track, he handed the notebook over, shifting away slightly just so he could properly read Ryan’s expression. ”Before you judge me too harshly, remember I’m a beginner,” He smiled, though he was serious. Ryan’s opinion meant a lot to him, so he waited with bated breath, even if his absent thoughts were Wow, he looks good in my glasses. Then, ryan was smiling, and his heart swelled with hope. Was this approval, or amusement? Brendon. He was jolted out of his thoughts by the reminder that he really liked his name when Ryan said it. Yeah, he was in way too deep. This is amazing. I can’t believe you were so worried, I mean... His eyebrows raised, and he shrugged to play it off, again caught off guard by the genuity of Ryan’s words. ”Thank you,” He said in a soft voice, again really swayed by the urge to kiss him. Maybe he was a little lovesick.

Lovesick. That word hadn’t crossed his mind before, nor had the word ‘love’- well, that was wrong, he knew he loved Ryan, but he loved Spencer and Jon, too. This was different. He had shocked himself by using it, and barely heard what Ryan said next. It’s beautiful. Brendon had to physically stop himself from being cliché with a little smile. I can hear you in the words already. ”I’d sing a little for you, but my voice is a little rusty. Can’t give a bad impression, my job is at stake here.” He was smiling, and took the journal back, flicking through it absently and putting it back down, then realising that the sun was beginning to properly set, the sky stained orange and pink and the rain picking up just a little. He didn’t care. “Thank you, Ry.” He wanted to go back to their original position without seeming too desperate, so he moved forwards and reached out as if to take his glasses back- but instead of remaining there and resting his head back on his shoulder like his plan was, his hand moved to rest at the side of his jaw, and without even thinking it through but having also thought about it for a long time, he leaned in to kiss him, waiting for a few moments before pulling back, his breath caught in his throat. He was speaking then, his voice gentle and anxious but steady in his surety. “I think I’m in love with you.”

It registered, a little belatedly, that they kind of looked like newlyweds-though-not-wed, and Ryan took far too long a moment to entertain the idea of them being boyfriends, and finally landed on knowing full well that he was in trouble. Firstly it was way too easy, especially considering that not much seemed to change in his head. The only thing was, he’d feel way more welcome to act like they were now in public, arms wrapped around each other, Brendon’s head against his shoulder. And, as much as he tried to shake the fantasy from his head, he thought that he might finally be allowed to kiss Brendon. That in itself was enough to make him go silent out of concern he might say something he really shouldn’t, playing it off like Brendon’s change in tone was nothing at all. Embarrassingly these sort of unrealistic ideas passed through his head way too often - it was too easy since Brendon looked like he’d give the greatest kisses on the planet, and he was always biting his lip, and. Ryan forced himself to forget about it.

Sometimes he couldn’t remember why they avoided it so much. From the looks of it they were already perfect, had never gotten into actual conflict or been outright angry at one another; seven months of friendship was easily a whole other universe from them dating one another, though. Hard to reason with himself about that when all he could think was what if it isn’t different, or, more specifically, what if nothing goes wrong? He couldn’t see them finding reasons they suddenly didn’t like each other, or come to any sort of incompatibility; after all they’d had plenty of time to figure that stuff out and it just hadn’t happened. Sometimes Ryan thought Brendon was too good to be true, that he - the band, even - didn’t deserve to have someone like him around, but that was about it. Wasn’t even a real issue, just a matter of fact. The more time they spent alone with one another, the more he convinced himself that it’d be all right, with no consideration for how the others might feel.

Before you judge me too harshly, remember I’m a beginner. Ryan thought he was kidding for a moment, and when he realized he was dead serious, began to doubt this whole ‘huge ego’ claim. He nearly came right out with admitting that he’d likely never judge Brendon on anything - he’d scrutinize Spencer and Jon endlessly since they threw it right back anyway, like a running joke - but then that’d draw more attention to his already obvious favoritism. Brendon thanked him in the softest voice ever for his candor and Ryan thought that he needed to start working very hard to build Brendon’s confidence up, at least lyrically. There was another passing urge to just show him how much he meant through physical means, but those he already knew fairly well how to ignore. Thinking Brendon might read his thoughts on his face, Ryan turned his gaze down to his feet momentarily, trying to entertain thoughts of any other kind. I’d sing a little for you, but my voice is a little rusty. Can’t give a bad impression, my job is at stake here. Ryan rolled his eyes, though he was grinning. ”Sure. Your ‘rusty’ is probably still amazing.” At this point he knew he sounded like he was sucking up, but couldn’t help it. Saying what he thought for once kind of led to that. He didn’t push, though, figuring that within time Brendon would sing it for him, then maybe they could perform it together...

Thank you, Ry. He bowed his head in a ‘no big deal’ motion, following Brendon’s attention to the sky and finding that even at the beauty of a sunset in the mountains met with a comfortable level of rain, he preferred looking at Brendon. When he turned again, trying to think of more absent conversation to pass the time with, Brendon was already reaching to take his glasses back. Ryan let him, then froze up when he took probably both of them by surprise by almost cradling one side of his face. Ryan had half a second to wonder what the hell he was going to do, whether what appeared to be happening was something he should stop in its tracks, but the unexpected sense of security Brendon’s gesture brought him made it an easy decision. He didn’t quite lean in or even respond to the kiss at first, semi-convinced he was imagining it, but after a moment’s hesitation he responded, tilting his head and cupping a hand in Brendon’s hair to deepen it. All the worries about messing something up, either with just Brendon or with the band as a whole, melted away, and instead he had an internal celebration over the fact that he was very much correct in predicting that Brendon was a gifted kisser.

When they broke apart, awfully brief but still enough to throw Ryan for a loop, he wasn’t sure what to say or do. He kept his gaze level with Brendon’s, expression more at peace than ever, and was saved by Brendon speaking first. I think I’m in love with you. Ryan was still, not having even considered the conversation coming to this (but then again he hadn’t anticipated a kiss either), but it was easy. He’d dwelled on it for half-seconds and any time he forgot to restrict his thinking; he wasn’t totally sure what love was supposed to feel like, or what ‘in love’ was, anyway. Through everyone he’d been involved with and claimed to love, he realised he might’ve been very wrong once he took his very new, unfamiliar feelings for Brendon into account. It was more than a fondness, but something that kept him grounded, hard to explain. Ryan didn’t have to think, only paused out of surprise that Brendon was admitting to it, before responding himself. ”I think I’m in love with you, too,” he said carefully, sounding a little far away.

That was sort of bullshit, though. Ryan shook his head lightly, suddenly breaking into another smile. ”Actually, I am. I’m definitely in love with you,” he admitted, relieved laughter touching his voice. He thought distantly that he should probably be more worried about saying that and freaking Brendon out, but. They’d come this far. He smoothed his hand over the nape of Brendon’s neck again, like he couldn’t believe he was allowed this close. ”We’re idiots.” Clearly he was still dwelling on the fact that it took them so long to say anything. Nevertheless he leaned in again, placing another careful kiss against the corner of Brendon’s mouth, and another on his cheek - now that the metaphorical door was basically open he figured there was no reason to hold back. ”You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that.”

It wasn’t like Brendon had been pretending they were together or anything- he tried his best to be as strictly platonic as he physically could around Ryan, in fact, but his guard always seemed to slip and things like this happened- they were watching the sunset together, alone, Brendon’s head resting on Ryan’s shoulder and Ryan’s arm looped around his waist. These gestures alone probably weren’t strong enough to suggest anything, if the subtext and the tension wasn’t already there- the way Brendon kind of shivered, and Ryan’s eagerness to actually touch implied more than they intended. Neither of them had much self control (even if Brendon saw it as a feat of incredible strength that he hadn’t just leaned over and kissed him yet). Distantly, he wondered if Ryan felt the same- Brendon wasn’t stupid, he could tell when somebody liked him; but still, there was some doubt in his mind that the emotion was mutually strong, and he didn’t want to look before he leapt. Then again, he’d always said that to himself, then always gone back on it.

Mostly it was this rejection that he was afraid of, even if he told himself there were multiple reasons why they shouldn’t feel like this, or at least shouldn’t be together. One, if they were public about it, nobody would ever leave them alone out of some weird curiosity or plain weirdness or some kind of ridiculous abuse that was always called no matter what; but if they kept it under wraps that would not only prove difficult but also completely suck. Second, what if the dynamic changed? Even when Brendon thought about a future where they were together, he had waking nightmares of changes in the system that had worked perfectly for his eight months in the band, maybe fights that forced people to pick sides, leading to a dramatic split or something along those lines... Brendon wasn’t usually a negative person, preferring to be optimistic, or even more preferably, just live in the moment, but this wasn’t any old decision to make.

It really didn’t help that every five seconds he got some compliment from Ryan, about his appearance or presence or voice or smile and now his apparent writing skills. Sure, he appreciated them deeply, played them on repeat sometimes, no big deal, but they were making it tremendously difficult to avoid that rush of affection, and that was hard to hide; a dust of pink always coloured his cheekbones, and his eyes always automatically sought to rest anywhere but Ryan’s eyes, because that would make the feeling even stronger. Brendon was a mess. He’d never been like this with someone he’d had feelings for before- but he knew this was different. Brendon was never nervous, really, but this really did get him on edge because they were always balancing between one world and another, not really wanting to commit to either, just in case it was either too late to change their minds, or something when drastically wrong. Sure. Your ‘rusty’ is probably still amazing. ”Shut up and kiss somebody else’s ass,” He said with a grin, not serious at all, his voice soft and gentle as he nudged him shyly in the side.

Suddenly, they had run out of things to say. Well, not really, Brendon could go on forever, but neither of them seemed to want to take responsibility for whatever happened next. He felt on the verge of something, and his heart was beating almost wildly. Plucking up the courage, he turned back towards Ryan, considering him for a second, weighing all of his options. There was always excusing himself from the situation, or using the rain as a getaway; there was continuing to talk vaguely about lyrics, there was just continuing to sit in silence and then there was the option Brendon chose, which was to reach out to retrieve his glasses but instead up with a hand curled around Ryan’s jaw and moments later, a kiss that Brendon could only describe as ‘finally’. For a moment, he was terrified Ryan wouldn’t respond, but then he felt it being returned and relief lulled him into comfortable security. He drew a thumb across Ryan’s cheekbone when he pulled back, eyelashes low over his eyes and his lips parted, suddenly certain of what he wanted.

I think I’m in love with you, too. That was definitely the best news he’d received in a while. His breathless smile widened into a grin, and he almost couldn’t register that this was actually happening. Actually, I am. I’m definitely in love with you. Brendon said nothing for a half second, caught up in Ryan’s eyes, and then just laughed softly. ”Fuck. Yeah, I’m in love with you. I love you.” His newfound confidence was evident by the now upright way he held himself, the hand still cradling Ryan’s jaw, his other hand curled around his waist. We’re idiots. That earned him instant agreement. ”Damn right. Took us long enough.” Idly, but fully involved, he moved his hand down from Ryan’s jaw to hang onto his collar, and the hand at his waist moved a little further down to his hip. He let Ryan kiss him, eyes closing briefly again.

You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that. Brendon scoffed, opening his eyes again, searching his expression carefully. Of course Brendon knew. Wasn’t like he’d wanted to do it for months, wasn’t like the impulse was intense and suffocating and he finally felt like he could breathe around him. ”Try me,” Was all he said, squeezing Ryan’s hip gently and leaning up yet again, this time trying for a little more intense, even biting ever so gently on Ryan’s bottom lip and then moving to kiss at his jawbone. He could, again, get used to this.

Ryan had never been in a relationship before - not that he and Brendon were, of course; as deluded as Ryan could be sometimes he knew that for certain - but this was the closest he’d felt to one, and they hadn’t even made anything ‘official.’ It’s just that they both took each other seriously (then didn’t when the time was right), gave one another all their attention and simultaneously knew when to look away, were so physically close oftentimes that it barely passed as platonic anymore... the list went on. Actually it was a wonder that they hadn’t just unanimously decided to be ‘together’ without saying anything about it aloud. Ryan wasn’t sure if Brendon would even want that or if he was just looking for something simple, noncommittal, but either way Ryan let himself entertain the dream. In his head Brendon was far different from past lovers who’d disappear in the middle of the night, who lost interest when they met someone even marginally more successful, who only hung off him for a public image. Brendon was definitely different. Actually, Ryan was glad he became best friends with him first rather than trying for anything that night outside of the tour bus.

Brendon looked almost sheepish in the face of constant flattery, which only really drove Ryan’s resolve to continue. Shut up and kiss somebody else’s ass. He grinned, probably would have followed orders if he didn’t think Brendon deserved the kind words and compliments - it took him so long to break into the industry that Ryan was convinced he’d been underappreciated prior to the career he had now. Of course, at this point, it wasn’t such a big deal because 80% of the messages they got from fans or admirers were for or about Brendon, their intriguing new frontman; still. There was a lot of lost time to make up for. Even if that wasn’t the case, Ryan loved his flattered expression more than anything ever, so. Paying him a simple compliment that was just stating the truth aloud was nothing for a huge reward like Brendon’s shy smile.

When they kissed - thank God - Ryan’s suspicions about his particular gift for it were confirmed. Not only the act itself, but everything surrounding it; like when they parted and he swept his thumb ever so gently over Ryan’s cheekbone, and Ryan could live in that moment forever because for once he felt no anxiety or stress at all. And the picture of Brendon with lowered lids and his lips just barely parted wasn’t an unpleasant one, either - Ryan didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was enjoying the view anymore. Fuck. Yeah, I’m in love with you. I love you. They were both clearly quite excited about this new revelation and Ryan leaned into the hand against his jaw, ready to, like, cry or die or something, and this was the first time he’d actually been overwhelmed by emotion. He wasn’t sure if he liked that feeling in particular, but the situation around it was definitely good. In response to Brendon’s admission he let go of an unknowingly held breath, laughing softly in relief and leaning even further into Brendon.

Damn right. Took us long enough. Good thing they were both in agreement. At least now he knew he wasn’t the only one who took forever to come to terms with and decide what to do with his feelings- he thought it’d just been him overthinking, dramatic as usual. Ryan let the tiniest of gaps close between them according to the guiding hand at his collar, feeling safe in the grasp Brendon had at his side. He figured he was alone in imagining this since forever. Try me. Or maybe not. Ryan tilted his head and wore a kind of dubious smile at that just as Brendon leaned up to kiss him again, and Ryan easily accepted it, catching the back of his head and releasing the tiniest breath of surprise against his lips when he felt a gentle bite. ”Alright, so maybe you do know,” he mumbled against Brendon’s skin, closing his eyes and enjoying the affection constantly pressed along his jawline, still holding Brendon close like his life depended on it.

He wouldn’t have noticed the rain if the hand in Brendon’s hair wasn’t suddenly catching little droplets, and he opened his eyes curiously, running his fingers through Brendon’s hair again to catch more moisture. He laughed softly and finally used his other hand to remove the glasses, vision no longer obstructed by raindrops, then hung them in Brendon’s collar again. He turned his head to catch Brendon’s lips again, on the verge of breathless when they broke apart. ”I know the rain is getting a little serious, but-“ Another kiss, because he couldn’t really help it. ”-I kind of don’t want to move. Ever.” They probably looked slightly out of their minds, clinging to each other in the rain, unable to speak for more than a few seconds before they were kissing again. Ryan didn’t really have a problem with it, anyway.

The night when they had first met, Brendon certainly hadn’t been around with the intention of joining Ryan’s band- in fact, in the situation, where he was hot and bothered and his brain was working overdrive and the ridiculous crush he harboured for him was ruling his head, for fleeting moments he had wanted to kiss him right outside that tour bus. This notion fronted his goals at first, but moments into actually talking to him, he lost his nerve, but not his slight reverence for Ryan, still intent on befriending him. The crush never went away, in fact just kind of camoflagued itself as extremely close subtextual friendship and developed into something even more. Now, eight months later, he was glad he hadn’t let himself be ruled by anything other than his brain. This was much better. In hindsight, he wondered if that would have made him no better than the fans he now so disliked- the ones who just wanted the attention of someone even mildly successful, the publicity and just the story to tell. That certainly had never been his motive, but whenever he put himself back in his own shoes from eight months ago, he cringed at his own behaviour. He really didn’t try and keep things subtle.

His patience had, in the end, paid off, because now he was receiving flattery to preen his already impressive self-assuredness, Ryan all too happy to provide him with regular inflations of his ego. It wasn’t like Brendon was self absorbed, or anything, he was just- healthily aware of his own assets. He wasn’t afraid to steal the spotlight, or admit that he liked the attention. He thrived on it. Then, just when he thought this couldn’t get any better, Brendon had acted on impulse and kissed him- and the risk paid off, because Ryan kissed him back. Everything, suddenly, became vague and unimportant, like the chill, the rain, the fact that Spencer and Jon were neither dumb nor blind nor nonexistent, and pretty much the entire world around him. All of it suddenly centred on his dumb, stupidly pretty bandmate. Brendon didn’t care to remember how many times he’d imagined this, and intended to make the most of it, even rather suddenly professing the love he had only just identified. Go big or go home, he supposed.

This was definitely his lucky day. Ryan was in love with him too. He suddenly wondered if it were possible to get any closer to him, because he wanted to. Brendon held him at his waist and the collar of his shirt, fully intending to impress, nothing to prove but everything to show off. The tiny gasp he caused Ryan made him suppress a smirk against the corner of his mouth, before moving off down his jawline. Alright, so maybe you do know. Brendon laughed gently. “No kidding, when I first met you, that was all that was on my mind. Amongst other things.” No use hiding that now. His shoulders relaxed and he shivered as Ryan’s fingers carded through his hair, and he let his eyes fall closed, feeling the droplets of waited against the back of his neck and his arms. Brendon only opened them when Ryan hooked his glasses back into his shirt, and he lifted his head just in time for Ryan to catch him in a kiss again.

They were both equally kind of breathless, and Brendon was slightly embarrassed at how easy this was making him seem. To be fair, it was an honest portrayal, really, but he had to maintain some kind of self control. Or did he? I know the rain is getting a little serious, but. Who cared? Brendon certainly didn’t, and from the sound of that ‘but’, Ryan didn’t either. Opting to ignore it, he kissed him again, praying silently that Ryan didn’t mind the rain. Distantly, a lyric formed in his head. I kind of don’t want to move. Ever. Brendon grinned, tilting his head sideways and this time barely brushing his lips, hanging onto his collar and keeping him close. Hook, line, sinker- Brendon had him, and he loved it.

”On the contrary,” He said into his neck, the hand at his hip squeezing just a little. “There are better places to do this.” Of course, he didn’t want to move right now. This was perfect. This was something he was never going to forget. Brendon moved both of his hands to Ryan’s shoulders, and then draped his arms around his neck, tilting his head back to kiss him yet again. “I love you.”

If all his fantasies were going to come true right now, Ryan would definitely appreciate every song on the album also coming together instantly, thanks. He was just miraculously up on his luck today. It still felt so... wrong, that it took them this much time to get it together. Ryan was half impressed at his own level of self control, considering that most of the time he was around Brendon, he was just finding reasons to love him more. No kidding, when I first met you, that was all that was on my mind. Amongst other things. Ryan barely gave him space to talk, still planting wisps of kisses at the corner of his mouth even as he spoke, but still laughed at the anecdote - then the implication. Apparently Brendon got comfortable very quickly. "Really? I guess I'm the blind one - took me a while to even consider you might be interested. And... I'm curious about these 'other things.'" Laughing, he watched as Brendon relaxed, practically pliant under his hands, and wondered if he'd ever be able to exist more than a foot away from him at any given time again.

It really was turning into a less than savory setting, though, especially for whatever this was, but Ryan could only come up with some vague concern. On the contrary... Ryan practically melted against him speaking so close before reminding himself to calm down, then dipped his own head until his forehead was pressed against Brendon's neck, too. There are better places to do this. Agreed. Moving to a more comfortable location would take too much time, too much brainpower, and plus, what if Spencer and Jon were up, just waiting to catch them in the midst of their trek to either of their rooms? Ryan was fairly certain he couldn't try and play it casual even while they were walking in, or at least not at the moment; if they went now, he'd definitely be clingy as hell, couldn't help it. Or maybe he wasn't giving himself credit and he actually could stay away for, like, thirty seconds. Either way he didn't really want to test his limits now.

Luckily Brendon didn't seem to intent on moving either, evidenced by him getting more comfortable with his arms thrown nonchalantly over Ryan's shoulders. I love you. Ryan easily went with the guidance of his kiss, grinning so hard he kind of lost his center, and since his smile was messing it up anyway he figured he could talk just barely against Brendon's lips. "I love you," he answered breezily, eyes shut and lashes stark against his cheeks. Barely a moment passed before he was laughing again, soft and curious. "I've wanted to say that forever - god, now I won't be able to stop." 'Forever' was maybe a little dramatic, considering it'd been less than a year, even, but. Now he was just thinking about how they could be in an interview or something and all he'd be focusing on was Brendon, how all he'd be able to say to him even in public would be followed up by 'I love you' at some point or another. Well, that's how things looked now, anyway. Ryan maybe needed some time to get used to this.

He probably reacted so strongly to it all because he'd never experienced anything quite like how he felt for Brendon. Mostly he'd had brief girlfriends who had their own ambitious careers, who stuck by his side for appearances and wanted to get big just as much as he did but couldn't find anyone more successful yet. There were one or two long-term relationships that measured up to a year and a half at most, but then half of it was bogus anyway, and all his 'love' was for some idealized version of the person rather than whoever they actually were. Brendon, though, started out pure and unadulterated, then he just continued earning Ryan's favor over time. He somehow veered off the road of platonic love that Spencer followed so carefully and dutifully, and Ryan had no idea how. Then again it's not like he thought Spencer was the most attractive person on Earth when he first saw him. They were, like, five. Brendon got lucky with the timing, probably.

Ryan's thumb brushed over a collection of water droplets on Brendon's cheekbone, trailing it off into his hairline. "I'm not complaining that it's raining..." He was smiling, but from his joke he started to hear a melody in his head that matched the words Brendon had written and he already memorized. Suddenly the song was upbeat in his head whereas before he'd anticipated it to be slow, not solemn per se but calm at the very least. And, because his mind was going a million miles a minute, he once again fell off topic despite every other force within him telling him to just keep kissing Brendon since it was easier. "I feel like maybe we did this out of order. Should I have taken you on a date first? Does watching the sunset count as a date?" Not that he was really watching the sunset so much as pretending the sun's brilliant painting against the sky was as beautiful as the boy to his right, but. Whatever. He was pretty sure Brendon hadn't been watching, either, considering he had to keep finding the right moment to look over without their gazes meeting and Brendon catching him in the act.

Absently, Brendon did realise that from this point on, they probably wouldn’t get much work done- he had already given up any hope of lasting more than 30 seconds without physical contact, because he was hopelessly in love and completely enamoured. It would have been embarrassing, but Ryan clearly felt the same- so it was mutual, slightly abnormally intense affection, love that Brendon could sense in every slight, drawn breath, in Ryan’s ridiculous, should-be-illegal honey eyes, in gentle touches at his waist and brushes of kisses against skin- Brendon realised distantly he could stay like this forever. Fuck the rain. Even more dramatically, the song he’d written was starting to take up a tune, evolving from bittersweet to simply sweet in his head. Brendon shook away the inspiration because he didn’t want to focus on anything else but his... boyfriend? Brendon almost laughed- what were they? Definitely not friends. But they were doing this all backwards. Oh well.

Really? I guess I’m the blind one- took me a while to even consider you might be interested. Brendon thought that expressing every thought he had at that initial meeting might be a bit much, even though he was struggling not to say anyway. So he just smiled knowingly. And... I’m curious about these ‘other things’. Brendon wasn’t expecting reciprocation in any form to his less than romantic passing comments, really- but now he couldn’t help himself. He leaned in towards his neck, speaking against his warm skin and then finding his pulse, pressing a hot kiss against it, at first considering just not moving and leaving a very obvious indication of their new type of relationship. But even Brendon wasn’t that bold- Spencer and Jon weren’t idiots. Reluctantly, he pulled back, but immediately threw his forearms over Ryan’s shoulders, moving in again to meet him in a kiss. Who needed oxygen when he was like 97% sure he could survive on Ryan’s attention alone?

I love you. Brendon had no doubt. He watched, almost in awe, as Ryan closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again, thunderstruck once more by the striking colour. He was almost annoyed, but instead his insides just warmed up. I’ve wanted to say that forever- God, now I won’t be able to stop. Hey, he had no problem with that. Honestly, they were a little ridiculous- they had known eachother for eight months, had only just realised and confessed completely mutual obsession and genuine love, and Brendon was now fully prepared to admit that Ryan was literally the most gorgeous person he’d ever met and the only one who’d ever made him feel like he did now. ”I-“ He wanted to express this, he did, but he backtracked when he realised more talking meant less kissing, and shut up. Instead, he let his mind wander just a little as he thought back on previous relationships- he’d never been in love before, but he’d had his share of semi-serious partners. Boyfriends, girlfriends had come and gone, only a handful worth remembering, but Ryan. What made this different? He wasn’t even sure. But Brendon liked it.

The rain wasn’t really bothering him- the gentle sound, he knew, would be forever associated in his mind with love, and gentleness, and the sincerity of the situation. It was cool against his skin, and Brendon shivered when Ryan wiped the droplets away from his cheekbone with his thumb. I’m not complaining that it’s raining... He liked that melody better than his own, and took it as an invitation to continue. ”...I’m just saying that i’d like it a lot more than you think, if the sun would come out and sing with me...” Huh. He liked the sound of that. Brendon smiled easily, and leaned in for another kiss, but Ryan decided to starve him and speak instead. He tried not to look too impatient, but ended up staring at his mouth most of the time anyway. I feel like maybe we did this out of order. Should I have taken you on a date first? Does watching the sunset count as a date?

"Duh,” He replied immediately, moving his hands, one to his hair the other to his jaw, smiling affectionately. ”Anyway, I’m glad we did it this way. We can just go on dates to make up for it. And all of them should be to either of our bedrooms.” Brendon was laughing to himself, but he dragged Ryan in again to catch him in yet another kiss, wondering how he ever resisted before. At this point, though, he was more than a little wet from the rain, and he stood up, bringing Ryan up too by holding onto his collar and not breaking the kiss as much as possible until they were standing. ”Though to be fair... I haven’t done much actual sunset watching. There are prettier things.”

Ryan detected the threat of Brendon leaving a possessive mark on his skin but was barely worried about it until Brendon pulled back - only then did he remember that they weren't completely alone. He wondered exactly how they'd go about this anyway; would they tell Spencer and Jon immediately what was going on? Ryan wasn't even sure about how to label it himself, and he assumed asking Brendon if they were boyfriends now would be kind of lame. Then, would everyone else know? He didn't see any problem with it - he didn't talk to his family for the most part and therefore wasn't worried about any judgment (that he cared about, anyway; people he wasn't related to would probably have some thoughts on the subject as well). There was the possibility that they ended up not working out, and if they had to publicly break up, too, it might lead to more drama than absolutely necessary.

But while Ryan's mind could work at a hundred miles per minute, he couldn't consider all of this in any real depth; it was shelved for the time being. All that really mattered was that they got to this point at all, something that seemed a distant maybe-achievable dream just yesterday. He savored each kiss because part of him still doubted that it was all real, and if it was, maybe Brendon would lose interest as quickly as they were progressing in the moment. Or, hell, Ryan could do the same, though after eight months of pining, he doubted he'd break tradition. He'd never done it in the past with people he cared far less about in comparison, so it was highly unlikely he'd so easily lose interest in Brendon. His insecurities dwindled when he realised this applied to Brendon, too; why was he so worried in the first place? Natural anxiety was a powerful thing.

Though 'living in the moment' was not Ryan's forte, the fact becoming more and more apparent with each passing second, he tried to draw himself out of his self-sabotaging thoughts, succeeding just in time to watch Brendon finish the verse he'd started. ...I’m just saying that I'd like it a lot more than you'd think, if the sun would come out and sing with me... He was almost taken aback with the ease Brendon seemed to have adopting Ryan's made-up tune when it had been Brendon's lyrics in the first place. He supposed it was natural of them to fit together so easily, though, always like puzzle pieces. One shortcoming: Ryan was a talker, and Brendon was evidently a little aggravated with him for not shutting up (though not seriously, thankfully). Ryan could relate, really.

Duh. Glad they agreed on the date. Ryan was pretty sure he'd never been on one better. He almost melted into Brendon's touch, feeling oddly comforted by the placement of his hands, how it seemed like he nearly framed Ryan's face. He was grateful for it, actually; if not for something keeping him in place he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stay upright. Anyway, I’m glad we did it this way. We can just go on dates to make up for it. And all of them should be to either of our bedrooms. He knew Brendon was laughing but Ryan took it very seriously, already planning how exactly they'd get the rest of their band to agree to letting them visit each other's rooms after this ordeal. Jon would probably be more fair with them. Spencer, however, probably thought Ryan was just bad news for Brendon (rather than the other way around, which, as his best friend, Ryan was quite offended by), and therefore might protest their union altogether. So they'd just be sneaky, he guessed.

Ryan momentarily forgot that it was easier to stand when his mouth wasn't occupied but kept his priorities straight anyway, following Brendon's guidance in rising all while he pressed more kisses wherever was most convenient. He nearly interrupted him, actually, before redirecting to Brendon's jaw, holding him close on the opposite side of his face for ease of access. Though to be fair... I haven’t done much actual sunset watching. There are prettier things. For that Ryan did actually pause, looking at him dubiously. "That's—" He broke off, deciding against calling Brendon corny when he'd been arguably worse this entire time. Rather, he laughed modestly, unsure of how to react to such a compliment. "You're sweet," he said instead, gazing at him a moment longer before reaching around Brendon and retrieving his journal for him. The cover seemed to have not been affected much by the rain, so he figured the rest was safe, though he still hugged the book between them protectively. "And I was thinking the same thing. Why do you think I come out here so often? Just more excuses to see you."

He was already backing them towards the cover of the cabin, hanging on delicately to the fabric of Brendon's shirt, until they were in front of the door and beneath the roof overhang. Only then did he realise exactly how much of his own fringe was stuck to his forehead from the rain, paying it no mind and instead drawing Brendon's hair from his face. He pressed Brendon's journal against his chest so he'd accept it, trying desperately not to fall into another habit of kissing each other breathless since they were even closer to their uninformed bandmates, and quirked one corner of his mouth sheepishly. "So you wouldn't mind- I mean. We could call each other boyfriends, right? Imagine that." He kind of already had. In fact, Ryan had been guilty of almost actually doing that in the past, but he figured saying that to Brendon would be slightly embarrassing - just as it was to ask whether he could. God. "'This is Spencer, this is Jon, and my boyfriend, Brendon...'" he practiced, looking endlessly amused by himself.

Abandoning his resolution, Ryan pressed another chaste kiss to the corner of Brendon's mouth before leaning back against the door, fingers on the handle. "So you were saying something about dates in our rooms, and I'd really appreciate around seventeen blankets right about now. Shall we?" He'd heard the underlying suggestion in Brendon's words before, obviously, and wasn't that inattentive, but of course his own innocuous intentions were limited to finding warmth and sticking to it for now. And maybe figuring out whether Brendon was opposed to cuddling or not - hopefully the latter.

In contrast, Brendon definitely knew that this was reality and not some wistful dream- he’d dreamt so many times, daydreamed even, about such a situation, that he recognised the feeling and the warmth and the ache in his heart was definitely happening during a waking moment. In his subconscious, everythiNG was vague and dreamlike and Brendon could only imagine concepts and not touch, or true sensation. This was engaging all of his senses- his sight, as he drank in both the sunset painting the skies and Ryan’s offensively beautiful eyes; his hearing, as he detected both slight breaths and the steady fall of rain; his tactile senses, as he met him constantly in kisses and rested hands at Ryan’s waist, hip, jaw, neck, hair; and obviously his sense of taste- his bandmate’s lips, he noticed distantly, were somewhat sweet; or he had just eaten too much candy and now all he could actually taste were the remnants of sugar. It was overwhelming, in a way, but also comforting. It was all overshadowed by a euphoric sensation that could only be described as finally.

Because he was so distracted by the present, taking everything he could moment by moment, Brendon gave little thought about the long run. He tended to live in the moment, and at that moment, all he could think about was that he could get used to this. And he had plenty of time to. Ryan was talking, though, and managed to be patient enough not to immediately complain that he had gone moments without kissing him. Something about- dates? Brendon supposed they had been rather unconventional in their approach to the situation, and he kind of clicked his tongue absently, wondering what Ryan was getting at. Honestly, he just kind of said whatever his bandmate wanted to hear- he didn’t have the attention span for such a long discussion, and he would much prefer to go back to how they were a few moments ago. Kissing. Though he was frustrated, somewhat, he did figure that if he took the delayed gratification route (as in, standing up and moving over into the cabin), it would be worth the wait for closeness again. So he brought them both up to stand.

That’s- Brendon raised his eyebrows expectantly, but not really. He knew he was being cringeworthy, but he was allowed to be; he’d just confessed his love, for God’s sake. You’re sweet. Better. ”I know.” Brendon looked very pleased with himself, grinning almost crookedly. He watched as Ryan turned and leaned to pick up the journal, which Brendon honestly would’ve forgotten otherwise; though it wasn’t like he needed it- now the lyrics he had written were entangled with this memory, he’d never forget them anyway. And I was thinking the same thing. Why do you think I come out here so often? “Because it’s kind of cramped and humid even when it’s freezing outside?” Just more excuses to see you. Aw. Brendon felt himself melt a little, following his bandmate as he backed up towards the cabin door, out of the rain, and took the journal from his hands when it was offered to him.

So you wouldn’t mind- I mean. Brendon almost frowned, because he’d been moments away from kissing him again, and silently asked Ryan whether he was always this bad at taking hints. Either way, he semi-patiently heard him out. We could call eachother boyfriends, right? Imagine that. Immediately upon the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’, Brendon was entertaining the concept. His boyfriend, Ryan. He played with the label in his head, and decided he was... more than happy to use it. His easy smile kind of betrayed that before he even answered. This is Spencer, this is Jon, and my boyfriend, Brendon... ”You’re so awkward. I love you. And, yes, you can call me your boyfriend. Fuckin’ obviously.” Smiling faintly , he closed his eyes when Ryan leaned in to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth, basking in the attention.

Then, upon the realisation that their time outside watching the dwindling sunset was over, he mourned it briefly, knowing that the evening would be one he could recall for the rest of his life, and frustrated he couldn’t experience it again. He’d give anything to rewind to beginning and experience the cocktail of emotions and sweet kisses again, but instead he had to stand by the front door, wondering what the hell they’d say to Spencer and Jon. So you were saying something about dates in our rooms, and i’d really appreciate around seventeen blankets right now. Shall we? Laughing softly, he rested his forehead against Ryan’s shoulder, savouring the contact and their possible last moments alone until they were receiving suspicious looks from the rest of the band. ”That’s not what I meant,” He pointed out, vaguely amused, but nodded enthusiastically all the same. ”Lead the way.”

Brendon’s self-satisfied I know was just another reminder of his enviable confidence, how he was comfortable with himself enough to have even initiated any of this. Needless to say, Ryan was endlessly impressed, just as he was with virtually every aspect of Brendon’s character - but never before had he wanted so strongly to borrow some of that self-assured attitude. If he had a secure bone in his body he’d probably know what to do from here, not just what the next move was with Brendon himself but, further in the future, how to navigate their relationship. He already had a pretty iffy history with all of that (and realised with a hint of alarm that superfan-turned-frontman Brendon might be aware of the basics, or worse, all the gruesome details). Well, either way. It seemed like Brendon didn’t have a problem with said history or his constant struggle with his self-esteem.

That was the key. More than he was the most gorgeous person Ryan had probably ever seen or would see, and more than he was completely charming and beyond talented, Brendon had this unheard of capability to give Ryan a complete sense of security. Whenever he did feel minute amounts of anxiety, it was because his mind always wandered and found something to worry over. Even then it was easy to tell his nerves that Brendon would be there with him, or that he wouldn’t do that (to the negatives), or that Brendon didn’t think whatever self-deprecating thought he was having about him. Why feel bad about having kind of a baby face if Brendon called him pretty constantly? And not the harsh way any testosterone-ridden jock stereotype might have to make fun of him in high school, or whatever. Brendon was genuine about it; he was about everything. Ryan was sure that all of this was the biggest reason he was even out here with him in the first place, and the most significant thing he noticed after Brendon’s obvious musical talent.

He expressed that, not seconds after Brendon answered his rhetorical question in the most naïve way possible. Because it’s kind of cramped and humid even when it’s freezing outside? He noted, ridiculously pleased, that Brendon appeared touched by his actual reasoning, and vowed not to be withholding about all his dumb enamoured thoughts anymore if it meant he could have that effect on Brendon. Unfortunately that sort of backfired, because he found the inspiration to ask about whether they were considered ‘boyfriends’ now or not, and that was dumb and embarrassing in itself. He suffered a good few seconds of hating himself for it until he realised Brendon seemed fond of the idea, and the stress was alleviated just a little.

You’re so awkward. For sure. Ryan nodded in agreement, long-suffering, fully aware. I love you. And, yes, you can call me your boyfriend. Fuckin’ obviously. The cringe burned into his features faded and instead turned into a soft smile that directly reflected Brendon’s. There was that security again - he wasn’t calling him awkward in a negative light at all. Ryan considered this for half a second before gently returning Brendon’s ”I love you.” Yeah, definitely still not over saying that. Ryan was ready to say it at the door, leaving or returning, ready to say it whenever he was proud of Brendon, even when they were on the phone. And, because he was allowed this now, too, he could follow it up with a kiss whenever he wanted. 'Cause they were boyfriends. Ryan was pretty sure he checked off his entire bucket list in the past, like, hour.

That’s not what I meant. Ryan's eyes rolled skyward, and he became reluctant to twist the knob. For one thing, the indoors were now a whole other realm of possibilities, and maybe a little disappointing in comparison to all they'd just accomplished. For another, Brendon was clearly not to be trusted with delivering their news to Spencer and Jon, whenever they did come across the two. "I'm aware," he said, suppressing his laughter as much as he could. He had made an interesting proposition, though - now all Ryan could focus on was what Brendon had actually meant. His initial thought was 'if only,' since apparently he was parched, and then that it would probably be better if they weren't trapped in what they'd both acknowledged was a cramped and slightly uncomfortable little cabin. Lead the way.

Ryan edged the door open for them, turning from Brendon finally so he could step through and investigate the lounge. From the distant sound of guitar, Jon was probably holed up in his own room still playing - or maybe he'd had a pause Ryan missed during his own. Spencer, he assumed, was probably passed out even though it was fairly early in the evening; knowing him as well as he did, Ryan was fully aware that his sleep schedule was fucked. Part of him was disappointed, 'cause even though it would be a little awkward, at least they could get telling them out of the way. Then he came to the conclusion that it was just a blessing that they could still freely be as affectionate as they wanted for the time being - confessions could wait. He turned again with a grin, taking Brendon's hand while he crossed the empty lounge to his own room.

He barely thought to be embarrassed about the state of the place until he arrived; sticky notes with single phrases and one-word ideas and free verse littered every available surface, his guitar was carelessly propped up in a chair rather than in its stand, and the desk was no longer recognizable as that given it was covered with composition books and loose pages of lyrics and hastily scribbled guitar tabs. At least it was clean, and in fact might've looked untouched if he actually gathered all of his work into one place. "I know this looks like whoever lived here lost their mind, but. I swear, there's an order to the disorder." He half-grinned, knowing Brendon probably didn't care but still feeling the need to explain himself. He barely ever touched the bed before, given that sleep came so rarely, but now he gratefully fell into it, already pulling the duvet around himself protectively with no regard for how much rain he was spreading. "C'mere," he offered, holding his arms out to Brendon - and maybe still grinning over the fact that he'd probably be annoyed/disappointed by their limitations here.

"So now I can also tell you that I kind of picked you out of that crowd because you were so goddamn cute?" He grinned shyly, like his now fairly obvious confession was anything worth getting flak over. "Mainly, anyway. And then I wanted you in the band, of course, but really I didn't know how to ask you out. Eight months of floundering..." Now it was sort of funny to reflect on. Before, though, while he was in those eight months, it sucked big time. Newly grateful for the changed circumstances, he tried to pass on the warmth of the covers, close as ever to Brendon that he may as well just perpetually hold him in an embrace.