Hidden 5 days ago Post by Neve
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Neve

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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 he 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 was 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. Fuck. 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. ”Hey baby, It’s so late, how come you didn’t- Oh.” Brendon’s eyes widened and then narrowed ever so slightly but he recovered quickly and flashed Z a welcoming smile. ”Hey, Z. Didn’t know you were coming. Ryan forgot to tell me.” 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. ”I’m getting coffee.”
Hidden 4 days ago Post by jakob
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jakob

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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, god 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 understood 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 (hey, weren't you my security too a couple years back?) 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 him 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 those 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: open up I'm coming over!!! 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. Hey baby, It’s so late, how come you didn’t- Oh. 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. Hey, Bren! And she was one of few who could get away with that, probably. Hey, Z. Didn’t know you were coming. Ryan forgot to tell me. Ryan paused, unsure, and apparently it was a second too long, because Z was saving him. Surprise visit! And actually, I was just leaving. I have to, uh... Evidently, they both clocked the look on Brendon's face. For lack of a better excuse, Z went with honesty. ...let you two settle this silent battle. Ryan rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sat back normally while Brendon turned - eyeroll directed at Z, surprisingly enough. I’m getting coffee.

Ryan was already popping up, chipper while following his very sleepy, apparently displeased, dressed-in-all-the-wrong-sized-clothes husbans to the kitchen. "I made some, saved it for you, babe," 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 'see ya!' just before the door clicked shut. Jerk. "I thought you should get some sleep, I know you never do when you're busy, y'know..." 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. "But you're awake now, and. I missed you. So hey." Oddly timid, even for Ryan, but he chanced reaching out, trying to pinch the fabric of Brendon's sweatshirt and gently pull him closer.
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