Though Brendon didn’t exactly regret ‘separating’ from Ryan musically (really it had been Brendon who had suggested, orchestrated and demanded the entire procedure of panic becoming his and his alone), there were some- many- downfalls to having a different career to your husband, he quickly found. They didn’t spend as much time together, which was weird in itself; they were used to being together during work, play and leisure, and though they often got distracted when they were supposed to be working anyway, it was nice. They were close enough to share that much time together and not get sick of eachother or irritated (usually). Now, Ryan and Brendon worked separately, having to divide time in their makeshift studio as equally as possible, vying for attention when the other worked, bored to all hell while the other was in the living room watching tv or something. Brendon liked the independence, sure, but he missed them bickering about something dumb like a single word in a lyric or a single key in a piano tab. 

Maybe they got more work done, but Brendon thrives on attention and Ryan found it difficult to resist his charms, so not that much more. What was worse than the awkward timing and schedule was the fact that Brendon now had to tour by himself if Ryan was to stay home and actually work on his own music; and that Ryan, kickstarting a career almost from scratch when Brendon had generously given himself the big name of the band, felt the need to actually go far away to find and meet collaborators and producers. So maybe he was a little offended that Ryan hadn’t just asked him- [i]Oh yeah, baby, I wonder where else you could find a producer-[/i] but if he mentioned it, Ryan would probably mention something about professionalism and bias. Whatever. Brendon was far from biased when it came to music- if he didn’t like it, he’d say. The problem was he’d liked everything Ryan had ever done musically anyway.

They were kind of ridiculous, honestly- a few hours apart was something of a struggle, never mind a few days, and in the future a few months when Brendon inevitably went on tour. Baby steps, though- Ryan was flying out to NYC, and though Brendon had subtly done everything in his power to get him to stay, he told himself eventually he was being selfish and was supportive, enthusiastic above all that Ryan was finally getting a move on. He was proud of him. Brendon would have suggested he come along (he had nothing to do anyways), but he also felt it wasn’t really his place- this was Ryan’s career, he didn’t have to interfere with everything seeing as it was Brendon who had put his husband in this position of starting from scratch. Anyway, he’d packed the night previous, and then they were standing at the door, and Brendon had subconsciously clung on to him, kissing him like they would never see eachother again or something. Eventually, when Ryan had mentioned he was running a little late, he reluctantly pulled back and let go, picking up Bogart as Penny and Dottie looked ready to bolt after Ryan as he left.

So maybe Brendon had immediately invited Holden around, and Holden had brought himself some alcohol (out of no malicious intent, he was just kind of dumb) and Brendon had been proud of himself because he felt no urge or need. Even when Ryan was gone, he felt confident enough to be around it, so while Holden got through sixpacks, Brendon drank cherry cola and Gatorade because he was, like, seven. They had played video games (Brendon was obviously better), messed around with the guitars (Holden was better), and basically trashed the place on the first night Ryan was away. Brendon never bothered to clean up, so there were effectively empty beer cans strewn everywhere. He did realise this would look very bad to Ryan, though, so he put them all on the kitchen counter so he could point them out to Ryan and explain before Ryan saw them first and he looked guilty.

So he’d done nothing productive for the entire three days, apart from maybe advance a lot in assassin’s creed, which was a huge personal achievement. He was so engrossed that he didn’t even pay attention to his phone, which was on silent. In fact, he didn’t even know Ryan was coming home that day, so he was just in his underwear, eating last night’s leftover cold pizza, hair kind of disheveled in a cute way only Brendon could pull off. He was still playing video games, fully absorbed, so when Ryan entered the house, he didn’t even hear, just became irritated when bogart went crazy. Penny didn’t seem as bothered- she was fast asleep on the floor anyway. He didn’t even turn, but sounded irritated. [b]”Bogart, I swear to god, shut up.”[/b] Brendon exclaimed, suddenly annoyed because the distraction had caused him to die. He dropped the controller and rubbed his hands over his eyes, shifting to a more comfortable position, when suddenly- [i]You talk to the TV even when I'm not here? Freak.[/i] Oh. Ryan was back.[b]"Freak? Thanks, babe.”[/b]

He put his controller aside as Bogart was dropped into his lap, and shifted his dog onto the couch. Wait. Ryan was back. Fully realising this, he turned round excitedly. [i]Your dog is a mess.[/i] [b]”Fuck off, yours can’t even-"[/b] He gave up, because he had climbed over the back of the couch and wrapped his arms around Ryan, burying his face in his husband’s shoulder and then turning his head to kiss his cheekbone, grinning widely and then pulling back, reaching up then to cradle both sides of his face by his jaw. [b]”Hey. I’ve missed you so much.”[/b] He leaned in forcefully, catching him in a rather intense open-mouthed kiss, attempting to make up for the three days missed. He was smiling, though, so it was difficult, and when he pulled back he was laughing breathlessly. [b]”Fuck, why didn’t you tell me you were on your way back? I would have- put some clothes on.”[/b]