Brendon missed Ryan, a lot. He missed his own husband for a sizeable proportion of time- he figured it was because he was on tour a lot, but even then, a lot of the time Ryan could come with him, and would be backstage for every show on a certain leg, or something. Even then, singing up there, with his now closely-knit group of touring members, he felt a loss, becayse the first (and best) guitarist, who also happened to be his husband, was back there when he should be up here. No offence to Mike, or anything, but he sorely missed the feeling of playing live together and doing what they both loved, what they had originally bonded over, in a band that was originally theirs. That Brendon had decided would be better off with just him from the original lineup. Everyone else had left for their own reasons or moved on, which was difficult sometimes, he was the common denominator after all- but he couldn’t feel any regret, that would be unfair. Half of the departures had been encouraged or even initiated by Brendon- the one that stung the most when he thought back to it was when he had to have the awful conversation with his own husband about how he thought he wasn’t a good fit for the band creatively any more. It was ruthless, in some respects, and when Brendon looked back he saw someone prioritising his already successful career over the man he loved, but. It [i]had[/i] made everything easier, even if only in that Brendon had nobody to argue with any more. So he tried not to look back to much.

Anyway, Ryan was happy, now, having accepted and even embraced the fact he just wasn’t playing in that band anymore. They were mature enough and sure enough of eachother that they could have separate lives (overlapping extremely, but, still, as far as individual careers went), and Brendon was fortunate enough that Ryan even decided to pick up music again with Jon. He supported that fully- he didn’t always have time to be around, to go to every show, but when he did it was incredible and refreshing to see him up there- but after that, their band sort of went into a permenant hiatus, and Ryan’s creative juices stopped flowing. Or, they did, but he had no outlet, and Brendon knew that and felt guilty for taking that platform to express himself like that away from him. For that selfish reason, to protect himself from that kind of guilt, he distanced himself from trying to be involved or encourage Ryan anymore, because he never seemed to listen anyway. There was also the matter that he simply didn’t have enough time to be around him as some of Ryan’s new close friends- for example, Z.

Z, who Ryan had met in the Young Veins period, had taken up the mantle of being Ryan’s best friend, and Brendon, though infamous for being unpredictable and eternally temperamental, was intensely grateful for her being there, in ways that Brendon maybe couldn’t. And that was initially an intensely painful blow, the idea that Ryan had someone he might go to before he go to Brendon- whether that be because he knew Brendon would be busy, he’d been brushed off too many times in favour of working (Brendon’s work ethic had shot through the roof recently), or it was simply something that Ryan would prefer to talk about with Z- sometimes, Brendon wasn’t Ryan’s immediate answer to everything, and as ridiculous and selfish as it may sound, Brendon had to learn something he should already know- that he was not the single central figure in Ryan’s life, he wasn’t, say, the ultimate priority, his world didn’t revolve around Brendon and it never should. Though he was trying his hardest, it was difficult for him to see, for example, Z and Ryan playing in the living room when Brendon had to go to the studio and do some work. It got on his nerves sometimes when Ryan gushed about her to him, or started to write solely in sessions with Z, apparently the ultimate inspiration-giver. Brendon would never admit it, though, because it was [i]embarrassing[/i] to be insecure about something so ridiculous, and he was convinced that if he mentioned it to Ryan, he would just be exasperated. So he stayed quiet, and learned to get used to it.

Besides. What did it matter [i]who[/i] convinced Ryan to write and play and perform again, as long as he did it? Z had already dragged Ryan along for a show a few months back, and here they were, the night of another one, and Brendon was endlessly excited, though at the moment, vaguely jealous again that it would be Z playing up there with his husband, not him, like they used to, what used to be so important to them. Their relationship had changed, almost- not dramatically, but tangible enough for Brendon to notice. And not in a bad way. They weren’t any less close. And although Brendon was particularly a creature of habit, he found himself sometimes wishing that things could just be the same as they were when they first fell in love and got to go on tour and play together every night, when their tastes aligned and the only creative differences that existed were whether or not Ryan really wanted to reference the sun in yet another song. He still did that. Brendon’s heart swelled to think of it because even after all this time, Ryan still wrote love songs, and Brendon dutifully wrote them back, even though they were often scarce or subtle, amongst party tracks and disguised by grandeur.

So, Brendon couldn’t wait for tonight, but apparently Ryan, who was taking forever to get ready, could. When he finally did prove that he hadn’t, like, fallen over and broken his neck or something, by walking out into the main room, Brendon’s heart surged and he hurried to rearrange the dogs so he could stand up and weave around the couch, moving forward into his arms easily. [i]I feel stupid.[/i] Brendon just shook his head and grinned, wrapping his arms around him and letting his eyelids droop slightly, useless, as Ryan in turn held onto him as they simultaneously leaned in for a gentle kiss. They pulled back, and Brendon still looked up at him adoringly. [i]We’re married.[/i] Excellent observation, baby. [i]You have to say that. It's, like, the law. Doesn't even need to be true.[/i] Brendon lifted an eyebrow, challenging. [b]”Even if it is the law. There’s yet to be a day when I would be lying to say that you’re fucking astounding.”[/b] He curled a hand seriously around Ryan’s jaw. [i]Shut [/i]up, [i]I love you.[/i] I love you too, baby, he replied in his head, automatically, because it didn’t need to be spoken aloud. Still, he visibly pouted when Ryan moved back, folding his arms sulkily across his chest. [i]You shouldn’t have your expectations so high. It's been a minute since I performed, you know.[/i] 

Brendon [i]did[/i] know. And it’d been a minute more since they had performed together. He felt his heart sink slightly, but he kept up a brave, proud smile. [b]”You’ve never disappointed me before. You never could. And everyone there, like, worships you, so. No worries.”[/b] Brendon cleared his throat and looked at the ground, scratching his neck awkwardly because he no longer knew what to do with himself. There was his husband, looking gorgeous, but they had to leave. Fun.