Hidden 5 days ago Post by jakob


Member Seen 16 min ago

They'd been on tour for a month strong now, give or take, and Ryan's estimation of his patience was initially a little too high. That first night, he'd been in Brendon's dressing room for mere minutes before he realized he felt the same as before, the feelings he'd thought gone stale still as lively as in Seattle. Something about that city... they were back in it, and every ground rule laid out for him had become less and less feasible over time, now completely in the back of his mind whenever he was with Brendon again. It was only a national tour and those didn't last forever; the 'steamy second love affair' that 'could only last as long as this tour, no longer' was, by Brendon's terms, coming to a close. Ryan honestly had no idea if he still meant it. Hell, considering Ryan had been turned away for the past week, he might have meant even shorter of a time, which... was a hard deal to maintain. As the one to initiate their rivalry, before everything, before even knowing Brendon, Ryan would have never guessed he'd be the one so desperately attached. Maybe it was just the fact that he didn't have anything else going for him, but either way, that was where they were: Brendon telling him 'later' and him being affected enough to wait.

Ryan saw the Spokane sign from his band's bus window and knew they'd crossed state lines, just a matter of time until Seattle. Social media was flooded with 'welcome to Washington's and they watched hours of nothingness, little towns and cities and reservations pass by, until evergreens crowded the windows and they were surrounded by water and this was Seattle, telltale, familiar. Ryan texted Brendon vaguely, having barely seen him during any of the stops for gas, feeling nostalgic?, and when he received no response, pretended there was a reason he might be busy. Maybe this whole affair had come to a standstill. Maybe Brendon was making it easier for himself to end it when the tour was actually over, sticking to his word. In any case, Ryan had held up his end - tried to be inconspicuous, not really talking unless the Jon-and-Spencer buffer was there, and then not telling anyone at all. Though he wasn't totally certain that Jon wasn't in the know already. He was goofy, sure, but he wasn't dumb, and they were in close enough quarters on the TYV bus that it was hard not to look over someone's shoulder at their texts or read into the occasional obvious lyric Ryan threw out into the ring. If he knew, it'd sort of be Ryan's fault.

It was early afternoon when they found their hotel - and thank god, because Washington wasn't a big state but it sucked to pass through while only cramming themselves into bunks, after a couple of weeks doing exactly that - and Ryan was practically the first out of the bus into the expansive parking lot, waiting for the other bands to land and Brendon to exit his. This was sort of routine, if embarrassing. It's not like he could casually welcome himself onto Panic's bus and raid Brendon's space, not when people still thought there was some bad blood. And maybe they weren't the best of friends now, but they definitely weren't still nemesis level like people thought; so long as these rules between them were in place, though, it was probably best to keep people's perceptions alive, let them believe they were right by acting the part. So Ryan waited for stops, talked to him in the parking lot, roomed up with Jon (or if they were being cheap, the whole band) and generally excused himself with something lame like he was off to a bar while he went and coordinated time with Brendon. It's not like it was always physical. There'd been nights where Ryan genuinely just stayed in the same room with him, either of them doing work writing/practicing, or Brendon had some game at hand and Ryan tried to best him, so on. He didn't think either of them expected that to become part of all of this.

But Ryan enjoyed any of it, he'd take what he could get. These days, not much. Maybe he was a little petty about that fact - it was annoying to be snubbed so often. It felt somewhat like the start, where he had to win some contest between them, and he didn't even have a clue what the contest was, ever. Here, it was like Brendon was winning, always the one to turn him down, and yet Ryan kept coming back. Out in the cold, Ryan shoved his hands in his hoodie's pockets, utterly dressed down for Seattle weather in just that and jeans, and waited alongside Brendon's bus until he stepped out and Ryan could nudge him in the side with his elbow. "Hey, hey," he said, voice rough, and suddenly he realized he hadn't actually spoken in a good five hours. Fucking long drives. Ryan cleared his throat, stepping back and watching Brendon's new bandmates plus Spencer file out, pursing his lips. "Think you'll be free tonight? I just got a Netflix. It's gonna be wild." And he was a little late. What of it? The other tour members all turned away, unloading their bags and shrugging on backpacks, Ryan felt it was safer to step closer, so he hovered nearer to Brendon, edging them closer to the side of his tour bus. "Or are you gonna bail like you have been?" Late on Netflix, and a bit confrontational. A long trip had driven him stir-crazy, as usual.
Hidden 2 days ago Post by Neve


Member Seen 17 min ago

Feeling nostalgic? Well, yeah. In what universe would Brendon not? The familiarity of the evergreens springing up around them at all sides was close to haunting- the trees definitely had eyes and Brendon could feel them trained on him, urging him to remember. It wasn’t like he needed any reminding, he told them silently, slightly bitter that it would always be impossible for him to come even vaguely close to Seattle and not think of Ryan. The whole place was ruined for him and he couldn’t even hear it’s name without being immediately dragged back to that stupid hotel suite that he sort of wished they had never left, because that’s when everything started to go wrong. Brendon often fantasised about them just staying there, exchanging inexhaustible kisses and pretending they’d never been unimaginably cruel to eachother. Wishful thinking- but anything would be better than now. Brendon was at the point of not wanting to open texts from Ryan out of fear that he would have sent a message breaking their arrangement off- and out of fear that he wouldn’t. It was messing with his head and it was intoxicating, Ryan was intoxicating and it was embarassing, how quickly within their first ever encounter on this damned tour that Brendon had effectively crawled back to him. They had crawled back to eachother and neither of them could really explain why. These days it was easier to just avoid him, telling himself it was so he could figure it all out. But it wasn’t that deep, sometimes. Often, Brendon just found himself amused and drawn to Ryan’s persistence.

He was proud of himself for having the willpower to reject Ryan’s advances, actually, considering how much his ex-bandmate affected him. It was strange- somehow, Brendon felt more vulnerable when he was with Ryan and fully dressed, like the times they just sort of sat around and played video games and made jokes and were frighteningly similar to just- a couple. But that would never work. It hadn’t before, and it wouldn’t. Though admittedly they’d never really tried- common sense just told them that they’d end up ripping eachother apart. Anyway, he had found that he could resist it all if he tried hard enough, and turned down Ryan more and more- seemingly without purpose, but as chaotic as Brendon seemed to many, he rarely did things without reason- especially concerning his actions towards other people. This unresponsive behaviour was partially self-defence- and partially because Brendon was bored and figured if he kept Ryan tightly wound and wrapped around his little finger, eating out of the palm of his hand, the next time he did accept Ryan’s propositions would be- well. He busied himself thinking about it a lot, but kept it to himself. Which, if you knew Brendon, you would know was very difficult for him to do. Telling Ryan, of course, was out of the question- he’d seen Ryan angry. He didn’t particularly want to ever again, they were past maliciousness now.

Demonstrating this mock ‘frigidity’, he ignored Ryan’s text, and just sat with his temple rested against the cool glass of the window, his eyes only barely following the constantly changing blurring of colours outside- green, white, brown, blue. Even still, Ryan occupied his thoughts, all the way up until the reached their hotel- all of the bands on the tour were staying in the same place. Usually, once their bus had pulled up and parked, Brendon was one of the first off and into the fresh air, no matter the heat or cold- he had an excess of energy and found it difficult to stay in the same confined space for long, needing movement and activity to stay sane. This time, though, he was slightly more hesitant- he his unreliable behaviour towards Ryan was getting to him, making him antsy, and though this was his his intention, he didn’t quite want to face confrontation because of it. He knew Ryan would be waiting outside of the bus, lingering until he stepped off. In fact, he spotted him through the tinted windows and exhaled, leaning and slumping back in his seat, dragging his hands through his hair and down his face, preparing himself. Easing himself off the chair he stood up, cracked his neck both ways and walked towards the doors of the bus, cracking his knuckles habitually as he went and shoving his hands into his pockets when bothbhus feet were planted on the solid concrete of the parking lot.

It was freezing. Brendon was even more poorly prepared than Ryan- he was in a overized but thin t-shirt and ripped jeans that he was 90% sure weren’t meant to be ripped. His hair was unkempt from five hours of pressing it into the seat and the windows, and it had been a while since he had shaved so he had a slight stubble that he grimaced at when he touched, hand scrubbing over his jaw. He was a long shot from the immaculately dressed, over-the-top persona he had adopted for this new era of Panic, but Brendon was a chameleon at best and fairly decent with stage makeup at worst, so it wouldn’t be a big deal once he got into the dressing rooms. He was shivering when Ryan nudged him with his elbow, and his first reaction to encountering him was to stare enviously at his hoodie. It wasn’t like he hadn’t stolen clothes from Ryan before- but he reminded himself he was supposed to be driving him mad by acting distant. But being completely detached was boring. He had to be somewhat sultry for this to work. Hey, hey. The corner of brendons mouth pulled up slightly as Ryan stepped back, and he followed his eyes towards where Ryan was watching his bandmates leave the bus. He looked back at him, expectant. ”Hey, man, what’s up?”

Think you’ll be free tonight? There it was. Brendon had been expecting this, but so immediately- it seemed that this tactic was working even better than he’d hoped. Even so, he was surprised and a little apprehensive, and reluctant to just flat-out refuse, so he tilted his head as if considering and parted his lips as if about to speak. I just got a Netflix. It’s gonna be wild. Wow, okay, so Ryan was so out of loop that he couldn’t even see the loop. Brendon grinned. ”I, uh- do you know what you just asked me?” Maybe he didn’t, maybe he did and was just playing dumb, maybe he did and was just being subtle- either why, Brendon’s first impulse was to just immediately say yes, he was free, because it was true, he had nothing planned for tonight- but he controlled himself and bit his lip, scrunching up his eyes a little as if weighing his options. He planned to drag it out- but Ryan evidently had other ideas. Or are you gonna nail like you have been?

Brendon’s eyebrows rose but even so he backed up against the bus automatically, freeing his bottom lip from between his teeth and resting the back of his head against the metal so he could tilt his chin up slightly towards Ryan. He knew his angles. ”Bail?” He echoed, folding his arms loosely across his chest. ”Bail from what?” Laughing, he shook his head. ”As much as I want to Netflix and chill with you, baby- I gotta raincheck.” A pause. ”You’re looking a bit wound up. You feeling alright?”
Hidden 20 hrs ago Post by jakob


Member Seen 16 min ago

It had been such a long time now that they had changed their relationship that Ryan was no longer scared of every far-out, unimaginable idea that came to mind when he thought about Brendon. It wasn't scary to think of him as a boyfriend (well- it was scary to think about the asking part, and maybe the publicity part, but everything else was quite alright with him), and it wasn't scary to think about them completely letting go of all the bitterness and the cruelty from before. Actually, Ryan already sort of had, but it was easier for him - he'd started it. Come to think of it, Ryan was the initiator for most things between them. He'd been the first to completely shun Brendon and refuse to let him in to the band dynamic (though Brendon, thankfully, wormed his way in anyway thanks to Jon and Spencer). He'd been the one to come to Seattle, and he leaned in for that first, weird as hell kiss, and he followed Brendon when he appeared go have full intention of forgetting it all just to change his mind. And then, on this tour, without even really meaning to, he'd ended up in Brendon's dressing room, pretty much instantly coming onto him. Over time he'd been putting himself more and more out into the open, making himself vulnerable; it was just up to Brendon to answer all of his advances.

When he hadn't been lately, it was concerning. He was the only person Ryan had ever had such a turbulent but so deeply seated connection with - God knows why, because they really did come from two different worlds. Brendon, from a huge religious family from Utah, and Ryan never even knew his mother while he grew up in Vegas. Brendon was this lively, talented, pretty much world-reknowned musician, love and adoration followed him from every corner of the Earth, people waited hours just to maybe potentially meet him. Ryan was only similar to him, maybe, by their same ample passion, but otherwise, he had no idea what about them could bring them together. Personality-wase they shared the same humor, were both evidently fairly hot-headed (though Ryan personally only discovered that about himself when he met Brendon). He was sure, before, that this was just infatuation, all the perfections in Brendon meant he didn't love him, surely he was just momentarily obsessed. But Ryan never tried this hard, gave this much for something he wasn't actually dedicated to.

He was already worried about getting no response, nothing from Brendon along the way here, but when he stepped off of his band's tour bus and looked fairly apprehensive, Ryan figured it was his fault. He did want to confront him about everything, and there was maybe even the slim chance that Brendon didn't mean to be confusing, but. When he looked like he actually didn't want to even speak to Ryan, forget all the other intimate details, Ryan was tempted to give in. He liked him - either too much or not enough to make an ass of himself just to keep him around. Brendon was, dumbly in just a huge tee and some old jeans, but he never dressed for the weather anyway. He looked sleepless even though he had all the telltale signs of being crammed against cushions, his hair a mess, stubble dusting his jaw. And he looked like a goddamn angel. Ryan swore he forgot about the cold, a tiny smile on his face like he'd forgotten all about his bitterness, and when he caught Brendon's envious look he was tempted to just give up the hoodie automatically. 'Everything, anything, make me yours' - Brendon had said it first, but it still rung true for Ryan.

Hey, man, what’s up? Despite the warm-glowy-stupid feeling still all throughout, Ryan could've rolled his eyes. What did he think? The lack of immediate response was telltale, too; maybe he should just. Pull back. If Brendon wanted them to be over, he'd have to say it rather than leave Ryan with straws to grasp at. He was kidding himself - Ryan could entertain himself with the idea of that as much as he wanted, but as soon as Brendon grinned at him, Ryan forgot all about it. I, uh- do you know what you just asked me? He honestly had no idea. "If you wanted to watch a movie?" Ryan lifted his shoulders, naïve, and he was definitely missing something here. He didn't draw out the accusation on Brendon bailing, just went on, and when Brendon went to press back against the bus, Ryan followed close by, his eyes falling to his mouth automatically. Well. That wasn't exactly what he was going for, but apparently the dumb part of his mind was making decisions for him again.

Bail? Bail from what? Ryan pursed his lips, wishing that that didn't hurt for God knows what reason. It's not like they were nothing. He was so fucking... sensitive, it was annoying, and completely new to him. Ryan averted his gaze, studying the side of the bus as if it was suddenly the most interesting sight in the world. As much as I want to Netflix and chill with you, baby- I gotta raincheck. His hands tightened round one another in his hoodie's pockets, Ryan closed his eyes briefly, swayed a little like he was going to give up and walk away. Whatever. Brendon was worth the fight, but Ryan didn't anticipate that fight making him feel like shit. He had no idea why - he wasn't a victim, Brendon wasn't actively doing anything, just. Apparently Ryan had gotten a little soft. You're looking a bit wound up. You feeling alright? "Whatever, man," Ryan murmured, still determinedly not looking at him, his shoulders shrugging again like he couldn't care less. "I'm fine. Just thinking it'd be nice of you to say that you don't want this rather than stringing me along."

In the past when Ryan was upset with him, it'd always translated into some kind of sexual energy, one of them would be on the other and they'd be solving problems by deliberately not talking about it. Now, he just stepped back, the magnetism dissolved, scrubbing a hand over his forehead and searching the ground. He nearly turned to walk it off but faced Brendon finally, avoiding eye contact and instead sort of hanging his gaze on his shoulder, as close as he could get. "Brendon, what did I do? Out of curiosity." A scary answer would be that he didn't do anything wrong, it just wasn't neutral anymore. He wasn't going to- beg Brendon to like him, whatever, he just wanted to know the disconnect.
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