Brendon was often tired these days- between working tirelessly in their studio at home, collaborating with songwriters, going to other studios, going to interviews, doing photoshoots and showing up to meetings, he didn’t have much free time anymore, definitely not as much as he used to because he’d blown up so much and now had so many more people on board rather than just the label and the band members and maybe the bodyguard. He had so many people surrounding him and though he was immensely grateful for the talent he surrounded himself with- it didn’t make anything any easier. In fact, he had to work even harder to try and impress everyone- he even gave his input on the merch when he could finally find some time to look design ideas over. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy being busy or anything; having a lot to do and being motivated to do it was his Brendon wanted to live, because he was full of energy and could usually handle that. It was just- there were downsides, like the fact it did sometimes take a toll on him; lots of shows and recording meant his voice suffered and he was sometimes put on vocal rest by his own husband, and all the travelling and work he had to do meant that sometimes, a lot of the time, he did get tired. Even being an Aries couldn’t save him from that.

Another thing, the main thing, was that he didn’t see as much of Ryan anymore- since Ryan’s departure from the band (which, yes, was suggested by Brendon himself) they didn’t work together anymore and rarely even sat down to play music or write songs because they both had their own separate ventures now and that was okay, he just... Missed it, desperately. Performing with him, bickering with him over lyrics and chords, their lives completely intertwined, work and all. So maybe it was cringey and he was being slightly dramatic- they were still married and still lived in the same house, for god’s sake, they still slept side by side and Ryan still carried Brendon to bed when he fell asleep on the couch- their lives were just so drastically different now that things had changed and Brendon still wasn’t okay with that yet. He didn’t consider the fact that all of this was his fault anyway- he had practically kicked his own husband out of the band [i]he[/i] had started, citing- creative differences, of all things. In fairness to Brendon, though, their music tastes had diverted considerably from the similar path they had stayed down for a long time and had done so in opposite directions. Not only this, but Ryan came round to the idea eventually anyway. He refused to accept all the blame- though Brendon suggested it, the agreement had to have been mutual.

They still wrote eachother love songs and Ryan still attended his shows and went with him on tour, and Brendon still attended every rare live appearance Ryan made no matter his schedule (some things were more important)- they were very much in love, but Brendon was kind of worried, irrationally so, that they were at the tail end of their ‘honeymoon phase’ so to speak. Theirs had been an extended one that had lasted for years but now they had individually gained increased levels of independence and confidence (Ryan in particular), that codependency was melting away, he could see it, and Brendon wasn’t quite ready to let go. Of course, they’d always be each other’s priorities, but they’d found that their worlds were capable of not quite revolving around their significant other and the sky wouldn’t even fall down. Even so, he was- admittedly- apprehensive. Brendon had a bad habit of making everything a hundred times more emotionally jarring than it should be and the slightest neglect he perceived from Ryan could turn into a full-on cable drama- and this became most obvious when Ryan started to expand his circle of friends. This by itself sounded awful, like Brendon didn’t want Ryan to have a wider social circle, wanted to keep him to himself. It wasn’t that- he was just jealous they got to spend time with him doing stuff they used to do, writing songs and recording music. He was wistful, and also worried that maybe somebody more talented than him would come along and suddenly he wouldn’t be special in Ryan’s eyes anymore, or something. Brendon’s overactive imagination would be the death of him.

One of these new friends, a stand-out one, was Z. Ryan absolutely adored her- he gushed about her all the time and Brendon thought it was endearing and was immensely happy that Ryan found a creative outlet when writing with Z, but- he was also soulcrushingly jealous because writing songs was always their thing, did Ryan think Z was more talented than he was? Did he enjoy it more? Z [i] was[/i] incredibly talented and ethereal and Brendon loved her too, even he wasn’t petty enough to dislike her just for being good friends with his husband. But he was petty enough to be snarky with Ryan about it on the odd occasion when he felt particularly neglected. But- he could never complain properly about feeling this way, because it was usually times when Brendon was incredibly busy that Ryan hung out with Z the most, and he’d just seem unreasonable. But unreasonable was Brendon’s middle- or it could be. That was about to become very obvious that morning- one after a night in that had followed a very long and tiring string of meetings all day, pretty much back-to-back. 


He and Ryan had just curled up on the couch together looking for new Netflix shows to watch but they never ended up deciding and just sat laughing at their own inside jokes and holding hands, Brendon pressed into his side so closely it was like he just wanted to become part of him. By Ryan’s side was where he felt most at home and he’d felt deprived of such a feeling lately. Eventually, though, they’d both given up with Netflix and decided to go to bed. Ryan had been quite productive that day, he had decided to clean their studio and cook them both dinner because they finally had the time to eat a proper meal together like that. Brendon, though, was exhausted. He passed out curled against Ryan’s side almost instantly and remained that way until Ryan got up, to which he responded by semi-unconsciously whining in complaint and pulling the blankets closer to him to make up for the lost sensation of Ryan’s skin. It didn’t compare at all but he was so tired that he lapsed right back into deep sleep until hours later.

When he woke up he immediately rolled over with a groan of complaint as the sun hit his eyes. Squinting, he scrambled at the bedside table for his phone, taking it and checking the time. [i]Fuck.[/i] It was way past noon already and- oh. He smiled slowly, putting his phone back down and shutting his eyes, exhaling. He had a day off, for once, which meant he could spend his day with Ryan. Maybe get the guitars out, who knew. Go for lunch- okay, late lunch. Suddenly invigorated, he sat up, stretched, and swung his legs over to rest his feet on the floor, sitting on the edge of his side of the bed. He pulled on some pyjama pants he was pretty sure were Ryan’s because they were- uh- too big, too long, what have you, not the right size, and then stood up, finding a sweater (one of his own for once) and pulling that over his head as he blindly moved in the direction of their bedroom door. When he finally managed to get the sweater on properly, he was walking out into the living room, smiling brightly. [b]”Hey baby, It’s so late, how come you didn’t- Oh.”[/b] Brendon’s eyes widened and then narrowed ever so slightly but he recovered quickly and flashed Z a welcoming smile. [b]”Hey, Z. Didn’t know you were coming. Ryan forgot to tell me.”[/b] He looked at Ryan doubtfully and just nodded at him. There was a moment of silence. Brendon sullenly stared at the guitars in each of their arms, then turned around to drift into the kitchen. [b]”I’m getting coffee.”[/b]