It was bizarre how well Brendon and Ryan went together considering their vast differences. Salty and sweet, though maybe not quite in that order. Brendon was the type to throw himself into his work. He was good at lazing out when it was time to relax, but when he was at work, [i]god[/i] was he passionate. He'd burn himself out, lose his voice completely, drop ridiculous weight in a short amount of time before admitting that maybe he needed a few hours off. He had a fantastic work ethic, and he was full of energy, but it took a toll on him. This was his life's work, his dream, he lived it to the fullest. Ryan, on the other hand, ended up thriving far more outside of the spotlight. After the split, Ryan had maybe as many shows as he could count on his hands, but he was at least less overwhelmed by the thought that there were eyes on him, potential criticisms and judgments lying in wait for him to find them on the internet, in journalism, from the mouths of people standing in the front row. He was happy writing and creating for others to hear, but he had this paralyzing fear of every aspect of it: being known, being [i]understood[/i] for all his ridiculous stretched metaphors, seeming stupid or untalented. Anything made him nervous when it seemed like a whole country was watching.

While he was doing better in general, there were downsides. He was glad to spend days to himself... but, naturally, 'by himself' actually meant 'with Brendon,' and with this new split arrangement, Brendon was rarely ever home. If he was, he needed the sleep afforded to him, like it was life or death. Really. If he got a whole day with Brendon, he counted himself lucky. You'd expect it to just be the tours, because that's what occupied their time so much before, but more people were realizing Brendon's skill and recognising his abilities and the whole fucking world appreciated him now- there were so many more demands. People wanted to interview him, in person or on the radio or on a live goddamn talkshow or over the phone; they wanted him to play awards shows even when he wasn't the one winning an award (lately he often was); they wanted him to collaborate on a song or an album or in a whole ass Broadway show. When it was an event, Ryan could make it there a good 99% of the time - that last percent was just because sometimes Brendon couldn't get him through the door - but then that didn't even guarantee he could see his husband. Sometimes his security ran Ryan off to avoid distraction ([i]hey, weren't you my security too a couple years back?[/i]) as if he could really throw Brendon off his game.

These days they lived as if they were in a long-distance relationship. Brendon's schedule, though he always updated Ryan when he knew something, was unpredictable and turbulent, so Ryan left him notes for whenever he came home. A notebook opened to a half-written love song on the counter or on Brendon's pillow, and when Ryan awoke sometimes he was lucky enough to be greeted by Brendon curled into him, the song added to and set aside amongst the covers. When he wasn't on the tour with Brendon, taking up space that he totally shouldn't be allowed to, they photographed practically their entire lives and just kept up with one another. Granted, Ryan's were a whole other universe of uninteresting compared to Brendon's, another city every night, another new beat every week. Still. Somehow they remained on the same page on opposite ends of the world, awake at ungodly hours just to ensure they got to actually talk for a handful of minutes. He hated video to all hell, but Ryan would totally take an eight-hour long FaceTime over no other interaction when Brendon was crossing a couple countries in a crammed bus.

Still. Ryan was realizing that spending his time waiting around, talking to no one but mail delivery until Brendon came back, was potentially not great for your mental health. He'd get texts from Jon asking if he was still even alive and realize, shit, he really hadn't been doing a great job, well. Being a human, basically. He actually responded and maintained a conversation for once and, lo and behold, was invited over, meeting up with old Veins members, everyone who contributed, more distant connections. He'd nearly forgotten about Z, but when he met up with her again they clicked almost instantly. She had the same weird, dated sense of humor as him, but a different kind of liveliness and a dedication to her creations that reminded him vaguely of his husband. Not to mention she was beyond talented, so he was, of course, her number one fan within a few days of playing her music on repeat on Spotify. They naturally gravitated towards making music when they hung out from then on, of course.

As it turned out, Z had a life, much unlike Ryan. She hosted shows, promoted albums, promoted [i]him[/i] even though he really wasn't releasing anything save for a few demos forever ago. He became part of the shows - and that was a whole other kind of blessing in itself, because Brendon always, always, without fail, made room in his busy schedule to not just attend but hype him up before the show and then shower him in compliments afterward - and it wasn't like eyes were on him again, because though many just attended to see him (and many of [i]those[/i] attendees were just out of nostalgia), he wasn't the one in the spotlight and there was zero criticism to be found. Anyway. He knew that Brendon wasn't totally comfortable with it. He couldn't pinpoint why, really, just that maybe he felt neglected in light of someone else in Ryan's life, but. Oblivious as Ryan was, he figured it was a given that Brendon was the beginning and end for him, that his whole life revolved around his husband - to this day. He supposed if things were switched around and Brendon was the one who'd found a 'new best friend' (obviously they were each other's best friend, who else), suddenly spending all this time with someone else doing things that were 'their' thing, like making music together.

Brendon finally had an opening in his schedule, and Ryan doubted that most of it wouldn't be spent catching up on sleep, but as usual he swore up and down he wouldn't step more than a foot away from him the entire time. As it turned out, he was pretty good at keeping that promise. The screen went black in front of them after a few hours untouched, the two of them opting instead to just waste away, talking forever about nothing, everything. After so long pressed together, no room for air, so close Ryan was pretty sure every limb had fallen asleep, they actually did try to go to sleep. He let Brendon get as many hours in as he could (god knows he probably never listened when Ryan texted him an offhanded 'go to sleep stupid' at two am after seeing him post somewhere, thousands of miles away), kissing his head before he got up, watching him curl into himself to retain the warmth Ryan was leaving with. He really did deserve the break. A hiatus was probably not even in Brendon's dictionary.

Ryan was in the kitchen, starting up a pot of coffee, when his phone buzzed: [i]open up I'm coming over!!![/i] Telltale. He didn't even have to look at the sender of this excited text to know it was Z, probably with yet another idea. Lazy, Ryan just unlocked the door, floated around picking up the place until she arrived already toting a guitar and wearing a typical sundress. Clearly so invigorated about her new concepts, some show idea, Z barely greeted him, just poured herself a mug of coffee with some Splenda and laid out on the couch, Ryan sitting more reservedly at the opposite end so he could properly watch in amusement while she detailed her plans and went off on side tangents about new thoughts popping into her head. He half-contributed, suggested people to string along, asked where she'd even host it, so on, but mostly this appeared to be her excited debut. She was slowing down, strumming absently on the forgotten guitar, when he heard Brendon stirring in the next room, no doubt stumbling around to find clothes (probably not his own). Z liked him, she did, but she also knew how rarely they got to spend time together - at least, rare for a married couple. So. Ryan grinned at her good intuition as she started sitting up, composing herself to clear out.

Brendon's sweater was still struggling over his head when he entered the room, and Ryan was already turned with his elbows over the back of the couch, one arm hanging over in wait for Brendon to take his hand, come greet him with a kiss. [i]Hey baby, It’s so late, how come you didn’t- Oh.[/i] Oh. Ryan's smile grew subdued and he looked between Z and Brendon, somewhat concerned. Z was quick to the gun, turning to look over the back in the same way Ryan was and grinning right back at Brendon. [i]Hey, Bren![/i] And she was one of few who could get away with that, probably. [i]Hey, Z. Didn’t know you were coming. Ryan forgot to tell me.[/i] Ryan paused, unsure, and apparently it was a second too long, because Z was saving him. [i]Surprise visit! And actually, I was just leaving. I have to, uh...[/i] Evidently, they both clocked the look on Brendon's face. For lack of a better excuse, Z went with honesty. [i]...let you two settle this silent battle.[/i] Ryan rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sat back normally while Brendon turned - eyeroll directed at Z, surprisingly enough. [i]I’m getting coffee.[/i]

Ryan was already popping up, chipper while following his very sleepy, apparently displeased, dressed-in-all-the-wrong-sized-clothes husbans to the kitchen. [b]"I made some, saved it for you, babe,"[/b] he said, kind of desperately, circling the counter island and leaning over it despairingly. Behind him, he heard Z leaving, and swore he could feel how funny she thought this was. More realistically, he heard her foreboding '[i]see ya[/i]!' just before the door clicked shut. Jerk. [b]"I thought you should get some sleep, I know you never do when you're busy, y'know..."[/b] He trailed off, already rambling nervously because he still wasnt totally sure how to navigate this new insecurity of Brendon's. And his promise to stay less than a foot away was totally being broken. They were at least three feet away. He moved around the counter a little warily, cautious to approach in case Brendon would just avoid it. [b]"But you're awake now, and. I missed you. So hey."[/b] Oddly timid, even for Ryan, but he chanced reaching out, trying to pinch the fabric of Brendon's sweatshirt and gently pull him closer.