Neve

if it's a dream, don't wake me

Brendon just couldn’t understand how Ryan believed that he ‘just wasn’t much’- the first time they’d met Brendon had instantly been hooked on him, the light scruff along the defined line of his jaw, the aureate hue of his eyes, and this long, slender fingers, just how tall and how powerful a presence he was despite having such a generally relaxed disposition. As he got to know him better, things perhaps beyond what might be considered typically attractive stood out more to Brendon- the lines at the side of his mouth and how his lips quirked when he smiled, properly, the unruliness of his hair caused by the many cowlicks, even the simultaneous roughness/gentleness to his voice. Brendon thought he was breathtaking and refused to hear otherwise when Ryan went on some self-depreciating rant about how he ‘didn’t understand how he had so many fans’ because he was ‘so average’. Sure, before Brendon had come along and tidied things up a bit, sharpened up his appearance, he had been a little rough around the edges- an uncut diamond- he just needed a little more cut and clarity and voila, he was a new man. Just as pretty, in a more refined way.

Hey-y. Brendon raised his eyebrows and held up his hands defensively, because come on, it’s not like Ryan could really deny it at this point. In about half an hour he’d admitted that his favourite pastime was letting his eyes wander to Brendon, specific parts of Brendon, there was no use trying to hide it any longer. And Brendon relished the fact. He got excited just thinking about all the ways he could exploit this, tease Ryan now that he knew exactly what was going through his head whenever Brendon was innocuously at certain stages of undress, when he dropped something, maybe, and had to bend over to pick it up. Brendon was slightly evil, but he was more than willing to own that. But, you’re right. ”What, about the constant boner?” Pursing his lips, Brendon turner and let his eyes drift down, then he simply lifted his eyebrows, his mouth twisting into a smirk. ”I know.” I’ll just start acting like I hate you. That’ll work, right?

Snorting, Brendon turned back around to root through the shopping bags again, not even close to having seen everything Ryan had decided to buy him for like, no reason. Again- he wasn’t complaining. Just dumbfounded. He hoped Ryan didn’t think that he had to buy his affection, but also- there was Gucci here. Brendon would be anyone’s goddamn whore for that. It was just an added bonus that the man who treated him to all this crazy expensive shit was a man that he adored. ”Sure it will. But then, like, Spencer’ll hate me even more, like, ‘dude, why does Ryan hate you now’, and I’ll be all ‘not a clue, homie’, And you’ll need a cover story about your sudden shift in attitude. Too complicated, I say just stick with the staring.” Brendon was smiling to himself about it. He didn’t need to turn around to know that Ryan was likely preoccupied. Honestly, that man. Good thing you have plenty of assets for me to look at otherwise. Hey, assets. Yes, Ryan, you’re hilarious. Brendon looked over his shoulder and tried to flash him an unimpressed glare but he broke into a grin almost immediately and turned all the way around, pile of gifts forgotten. ”Ha, funny.”

But, yeah, shopping could wait, because Brendon sensed that something was about to happen here and he was all for that, even encouraging it, coaxing him gently as he stepped closer. Ryan, apparently, didn’t need much persuading to cut the subtextual bullshit, and he interrupted him halfway through his sentence, kissing him so that Brendon had to finish what he wanted to say in a rushed, stuttered way against his mouth before he reciprocated the kiss and moved both his hands up to cradle the sides of Ryan’s jaw, eyes fluttering shut contently. He felt so peacefully distant with Ryan’s hands at his waist that he didn’t realise at first that Ryan was trying to curl their fingers together, so he dropped his hand to make it easier. Look, we’re holding hands. Brendon burst into affectionate laughter, and cut himself off by kissing him again hastily. Getting through a few steps all at once. ”What do you mean, getting through?” He raised his eyebrows, breaking their hands apart to smooth his own against Ryan’s chest and up to cradle his jaw again. ”I intend to take my time, sir.” Sir. He hadn’t been that formal with Ryan in a long while. Now it was just playful.

your way

Brendon knew that Ryan would be pretty much completely out of loop with modern slang, especially the one that Brendon just referred to, but still, he had to laugh at the accidental proposition Ryan was making to him- considering that usually if they were alone together things escalated to be much less innocuous and casual. Not always, though. Recently (or fairly recently considering Brendon’s frequent avoidance of Ryan in the past few weeks), they had both been content to just spend time together, hanging out like normal people did. They could fool themselves that it had always been like this, that their relationship hadn’t grown from something toxic and harmful to them both, but Brendon in particular. It was difficult, they were both learning to navigate it, still learning how to act and what was acceptable. But it had been improving- until Brendon, easily frustrated and hard to please, decided he was bored of the routine and wanted to spice things up a little. He didn’t miss being treated like shit, but he missed the intense way that they used to resolve things. But he wasn’t going to say that out loud- this was his substitute, annoying Ryan into that mood and letting things continue on from there.

But Brendon was playing with fire and if Ryan found out that he was intentionally refusing his company just to get a rise out of him, because he was bored and- basically wanted a different kind of sexual gratification, things would all go to shit and he didn’t want Ryan to hate him, that wasn’t the intention here. They just hadn’t learned to communicate what they wanted properly, weren’t willing to be that vulnerable yet, they were still trying to figure out how to navigate their strange relationship in a healthy way. Brendon clearly hadn’t got the hang of that yet and it was obvious when he decided to physically move backwards instead of owning up to Ryan’s accusations and explaining why he had been so- for lack of a better word, frigid. This close and this worked up, though, Ryan’s presence pressed him into flustered honesty and he stuttered out his reasoning haughtily as if it was perfectly normal and it was ridiculous that Ryan hadn’t already figured it out. Ryan- Ryan immediately didn’t look impressed, and Brendon began to chew on his lip nervously as he waited for Ryan to react. In the past when Ryan had been angry he’d either been deathly quiet, unable to convey his emotions, or explosively angry, or a combination of them all at different points. Brendon felt the hair on his arms prickle as he waited with anxious anticipation.

Sometimes I don’t, either, Brendon. Brendon was about to scoff, but that would be unfair. It was true, they both no longer needed to be intimiate to stand eachother’s company. It was no longer the sole thing bringing them together and it still scared him. Again, he’d never say that to Ryan’s face. I didn’t think it went against your precious fucking rules to be your friend. He looked up immediately, adamant, defiant, opening his mouth as if to protest, but he then dropped his head sullenly, something in his countenance changing. ”The- ‘precious fucking rules’- are for both of our benefits. You know that. We agreed. Don’t fucking pull that on me.” Hypocritical coming from Brendon, who had just given away his game plan. Still, he was obnoxious by nature and straightened up, trying to regain some surety in his defence, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his chin up to Ryan to stare him down as best he could, which- was difficult. He looked genuinely angry. Brendon’s eyes flicked around Ryan’s features rapidly, and he didn’t realise he was holding his breath.

He was about to say something, break the torturous silence, but Ryan was faster, caught him off guard and pinned him against the side of the bus with relative ease considering Brendon was too blindsided to resist or complain. Plus, once he was held there, he didn’t particularly want to. Which is it, Brendon, ‘sometimes I just don’t wanna fuck’, or you want me to fuck you harder? Brendon’s voice caught in his throat and all he could do for a good few seconds was stare, wide-eyed, until he composed himself enough to smirk and retort, ”I dunno, darlin’, have you got it in you?” Probably a poor choice of response, but then Brendon had very little sense of self preservation. We’ve got a hotel right behind us, and go fucking figure, your genius plan worked. I’m pissed at you. It probably wasn’t good that Brendon’s only coherent thought for a moment was ‘score’. He was also incredibly intimidated and turned on and this quickly brought out his dismally submissive side. He wet his lips and tore his gaze away from Ryan’s just to look at the hotel, then looked back, silent.

Brendon almost flinched when Ryan brought his hand up to brush against his jaw, and he was in the process of going lax against the cold metal of the bus. So pick. He risked a glance behind them again. Everyone from the other buses had unloaded and were about fifty feet away going towards the hotel by now. Unless somebody was late to wake up, they were relatively alone. He supposed risky was their brand at this point. ”I- I want you to fuck me,” He admitted, but he could barely look Ryan in the eye. He had reduced him into this so quickly and Brendon had been convinced that he had the upper hand. Oh well. ”But, uh, if you still wanna watch that movie...”

old fashioned

First impressions told Brendon that Ryan was a man of, well, not few words, but concise ones, not simple and in fact flowery in vocabulary but he didn’t go on, he got to the point. Brendon adored his manner and his way of speaking and when Ryan opened his mouth to talk he hushed, trying not to let his gaze drift too obviously to his mouth. He couldn’t be too easy, what was the fun in that, but then Ryan was smiling at him in a way that Brendon could have sworn was fond (their total interaction time was barely a few hours at this point, bearing in mind), and Brendon figured that it was easier said than done. And he proved himself right when he made increasingly daring moves by- uh- gay standards, his foot nudging against Ryan to try and move this along and indicate that yes, he was interested, very much so. It was often he met someone he felt this drawn to and he supposed some deity was looking out for them due to the fact that they were already acquainted and they’d met again for the second time in a bar that was tolerant with a tolerant owner. As Brendon drew his leg back, he briefly closed his eyes and thanked his lucky stars but they didn’t stay closed for long as he immediately desired to look at his new object of interest again.

He was handsome and his smile was endearingly gorgeous but his smirk was a killer, and Brendon was usually the bold one, but he couldn’t even look Ryan in the eye for very long before he became flustered and had to look elsewhere, into his glass, at Dallon, down at the bar, at his own hands, anywhere. And it was a shame that eye contact was so intense because- Brendon had gone on and would continue to go on about Ryan’s eyes, and- well. The gist of it was that Brendon was enamoured already and he fully intended on getting to know his bootlegger a lot better in a variety of ways. Even before they’d been alone or openly talked about any of this, Brendon was conjuring up fantasy situations, eyes on his hair wondering what it felt like between his fingers, eyes on his mouth wondering what he tasted like and hoping he’d get the opportunity to find out this and more very soon. Ryan was the one who made the next move and Brendon was more than happy to return it almost immediately, resting their legs together in what was probably the riskiest thing they’d done so far. Not everybody was so oblivious to more suggestive behaviour. Oh well, Brendon thought, he’d risked it all before for- less than innocuous reasons, if he could do it for less fine people, he could do it for this handsome criminal sat beside him. Not a difficult decision to make.

Then they were talking in double entendres and it wasn’t long after they’d both settled into a comfortable-yet-electric silence that Brendon decided that there really was no point in wasting any more time sat here chatting while they could be wasting time in a much more favourable way in private. He finished his drink and cleared his throat to catch Ryan’s attention (not that Ryan’s attention had left him since he spotted him on a barstool to his right, then made a breezy excuse, purposefully brushing against Ryan as he left and making a leisurely beeline towards the bathrooms. Once he was inside he let the door fall shut quietly and paced immediately to the mirror, lifting his mask momentarily into his hair and examining his reflection, smiling in satisfaction and then pulling his mask back over his eyes, flattening a hand over his hair to smooth it down until he was finally content with his appearance and he turned around and took a step forward as soon as the door opened. There was a moment where his breath hitched because god he hoped it was actually Ryan and- well, it was. ”Fancy seeing y-“Brendon was smiling but it quickly faded when Ryan locked the door and wasted no time in backing him up against the sink. He fell silent and swallowed as Ryan lifted his hands to frame his face. You don’t mind...?

”Not at all,” Brendon responded, eyes not resting as they flicked from one part of Ryan’s face to the next, drinking him in without subtlety now they no longer required discretion. He remained obediently still as Ryan lifted away the mask and set it aside and after he did, Brendon returned the favour, reaching up to remove Ryan’s and put it with his own. God. Brendon blinked and willed his stupid heart to slow down a little, they’d barely touched eachother, this was ridiculous. When I saw you for the first time, I didn't think I'd be lucky enough for someone this handsome to... be interested. Bullshit. ”I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.” A pause, he had to stop, as Ryan presses closer and fit his hands around his waist. Not fair, he was trying to speak. ”You’re just my type.” Understatement of the century, Brendon thought, amused at himself. But it was hard to remain lighthearted when Ryan was looking agbhim like that. Mr. Blake, to be perfectly candid, usually I become better acquainted first. His next words came out quickly, tumbling past his lips with barely a breath inbetween. ”YoucancallmeBrendon.” A pause, he laughed nervously. Embarassing. ”Please.”

I can multitask. Tell me about yourself- I like the sound of your voice. Yeah, not gonna happen, did Ryan not just hear him, he couldn’t even speak properly. Brendon pursed his lips and opened his mouth to speak but suddenly Ryan was pressing kisses along his jaw and he had to remain silent for a whole five seconds before he composed himself enough to start. ”So this what you’re doing, is it,” He breathed, ”Y’wanna kill me.” Yes, he was melodramatic, but he was allowed to be. Anyway, what- oh yeah, talking about himself. What the hell did Ryan want to know? “I, uh, I’m a musician, I-” Ryan was working on unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt and Brendon stopped, lifted a hand to curl into the hair at the back of Ryan’s head (it was soft, so soft), keeping him there insistently. ”I play music-” So, he’d blanked. Brendon would have laughed but he was having trouble staying upright so he reached back with his free hand and gripped onto the edge of the sink for support. ”And- I’m a fool for gorgeous men like yourself.”

sorry to get sentimental tonight

As Brendon teased his now-fiancé about the unusual nature of his impromptu proposal, he felt his heart swell with affection, fully enamoured by Ryan’s weak, sheepish smile. He was positive he’d never been more in love with him as he was at that moment- and that just went to say that he didn’t need Whatever grand gesture Ryan had intended to make this. Hell, Brendon had no idea he was even planning to- they hadn’t even mentioned it, their official relationship had been that short. The suddenness with which Ryan asked Brendon to marry him told Brendon that it had been genuine and honest and soul-bearing in a moment of heat and intense vulnerability and Brendon honestly couldn’t think of any other way to top it. He felt lightheated, a deep indescribable feeling settling in his bones, and he trailed his fingertips across the familiar expanses of skin beneath him, exhaling softly. Then Ryan let his head fall back against the headboard and Brendon couldn’t help but break into spontaneous laughter, because yeah, it was more than enough for him, but it also so damn funny. Clearly he had been doing something right to prompt such a serious reaction. God, they were ridiculous. Brendon loved it. I suppose.

”M-hm,” Brendon muttered absently, closing his hand around Ryan’s wrist and lifting it to examine his jewellery-laden hands. A few of them, Brendon saw, he’d had for a very long time- he recalled seeing them back when they first met (yes, he was that enthralled by his hands, of all things), and he smiled a little, betraying his feelings of nostalgia. He was too absorbed in examining Ryan’s rings one by one to notice his tiny smirk. Engraved. They’ll match. ”Oh yeah?” Still, Brendon was a little distracted, pressing his lips against the back of Ryan’s hand. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about a ring- having one would seal the deal, he supposed- but Brendon wasn’t overly fussed with technicality or grand gestures at this point. He didn’t need a ring to be comfortable in the knowledge that they would be wed for as long as they lived. However- when Ryan took off one of his rings, a simple, plain band, and slipped it onto Brendon’s ring finger, he had to stop for a second, entranced, biting his lip. Here’s a placeholder, for now. Fuck. Brendon tore his eyes away and met Ryan’s before he quickly leaned in to catch him in a brief kiss. ”I- I like that. I want people to know I’m yours.” And that you are mine. Brendon felt- not possessiveness, but- connection. He wanted people to know he was in love.

Seriousness aside, Brendon could always be trusted to be irritating and he dutifully carried this out by pressing his hips down teasingly, immediately cracking up into laughter at Ryan’s admirable attempt at not visibly reacting. He was cute. Brendon again leaned in to catch his bottom lip between his teeth and then they fit into place naturally, heads tilting opposite ways to settle into a comfortable kiss. Hm, maybe later. He had been joking, but that sounded appealing. He hummed his approval as they moved apart, both just gazing into eachother’s eyes, disgustingly in love. It was embarassing, unrealistic, seemingly impossible, but they’d found eachother- Brendon would almost go far enough to say that they were soulmates. I’ve got a headache. Yeah, he felt Ryan’s pain. ”No headache, but I’m gonna fuckin’ hurt tomorrow,” He mumbled, sighing and letting himself go slack to rest his forehead against Ryan’s shoulder, letting his eyes flutter shut. He was close to drifting off almost immediately, but Ryan rudely interrupted. I’m gonna do it again, you know. Second take. You won’t have a clue.

Brendon lifted his head lazily and raised his eyebrows. ”Well, now you’ve told me, I think I’ll have an idea. Dumbass.” He giggled, dropping his head back down and laughing against Ryan’s warm skin. Warm. Soft. Brendon really just wanted to go to sleep, if Ryan would just let him... Totally gonna blow this proposal out of the water so you don’t get to tell anyone about it. At this, Brendon made an immediate noise of protest, defiantly lifting his head up to stare at Ryan, unimpressed. ”Whaddya mean, not fuckin’ tell anyone? That was- as I said- the best sex we’ve ever had. You proposed, like, right before you-“ Brendon stopped, frowned. ”I need a shower. Anyway, if you think I’m not gonna tell anyone. Sorry, baby. I’m sure Spencer will be thrilled to know. I’ll tell him myself so he has time to calm down before he reaches you.”

Which you’re not allowed to do, by the way. Brendon snorted, then shifted, rolling off to the side and crashing unceremoniously onto the mattress, turning onto his front and burying his head into the pillow. He chose to ignore that. This is seriously not the grand gesture I had in mind. Worked for me, Brendon thought, rolling his eyes. Honestly, Ryan was too much. He loved him, but c’mon, babe. Chill. We’re engaged, isn’t that good enough? I’m gonna blow your mind, baby. Brendon lifted his head from his folded arms so Ryan could hear him speak. “Not to ruin your epic proposal dreams, but. You just did blow my mind. Thought that was pretty evident. You’re really something.” He smiled, sheepish at how easy he was, and buried his face in his arms again, letting his eyes fall shut. A shower could wait.

your way

Love and adoration followed him to pretty much every corner of the earth, that was true, love and adoration from both Brendon’s fans and apparently Ryan, though it was definitely too fat to call it ‘love’- it was more infatuation, some kind of deep-seated obsession that had started in a toxic place and was on a steady decline back down to that negativity. Not that things had ever been all sunshine and soft kisses, things borne from such a background could never really be normal or healthy. But- they were getting there, had been getting there. Brendon harboured real fondness for Ryan, not just attraction. And it wasn’t bizarre anymore. It felt normal. He had grown used to his company and he supposed that familiarity made his heart grow fonder as time passed by and they were attracted to eachother like magnets, swerving back almost immediately into eachother’s lanes when they had reunited at the start of this tour. But- though Brendon was arguably happy when he was with Ryan, most of the time, doing normal dumb shit like snacking themselves into a food coma and playing video games hours into the night- he was afraid. Afraid to grow too attached, because they had already proven that dating- wouldn’t really work. Brendon reminded himself of this a lot when his romantic daydreams (yes, he had them, sue him) became too fanciful and unrealistic.

So, he became distant almost to protect himself from being hurt- but also simply because it was entertaining to watch Ryan vie for his attention no mater how many times Brendon refused his company, rebuked his offers, turned down propositions. He had him wrapped around his little finger and he relished in being able to drive him crazy- maybe it was some leftover spite from their days of absolutely hating eachothers guts. Who knew. Brendon had managed to resist Ryan for a while now, which was an achievement he was proud of. Just- just look at Ryan, he was tall, his hair was curly and dark, his eyes a soulful gold, his hands were art- of course it was an achievement. Brendon was proud of himself for not immediately dropping to his knees for him every damn time they ended up alone. He didn’t have a problem admitting that anymore- what he was more apprehensive to say was that he enjoyed just hanging out with him even more than he enjoyed their physical intimacy. And that was saying something. It frightened him. So he stepped back- for his own amusement, for his own protection, for his own gain. Maybe it was a little unreasonable. To say the least.

And now, Here Ryan was, baited into confronting him about Brendon’s frequent rejections of his advances. He had expected it but he hadn’t expected to enjoy himself this much, enjoy watching Ryan pursue him. It was probably a little twisted but it made him feel wanted and if this meant that when he did accept, Ryan put a little more effort than usual into things, it would be worth it. For both of them. Win-win. If you wanted to watch a movie? Aw. So he really did have no idea what he was insinuating. Adorable. Brendon cracked a smile and tilted his head. ”You need to like, catch up on a lot of shit,” He advised. ”By asking me, your secret ‘lover’, let’s say, to watch Netflix with you, alone, you’re implying- you know what, nevermind.” He couldn’t be bothered bringing Ryan up to speed on current pop culture and slang. Having dropped it, he stepped back to lean against the bus and Ryan dutifully followed. Man, he was intense when he was like this. And then- then he looked genuinely downcast. Brendon’s eyebrows raised minutely, surprised by his own effect. He’d expected frustration, not- not this. Whatever, man.

‘Whatever’? No, that’s not what he wanted, Brendon thought, alarms going off suddenly. He didn’t want to drive Ryan away, that was the last thing he wanted. Brendon swallowed uncomfortably. I’m fine. Sure, you look it. Just thinking it’d be nice of you to say that you don’t want this rather than stringing me along. A little stunned, Brendon pressed himself closer against the side of the bus simultaneously as Ryan stepped back, unsure of what to say, eyeing him helplessly for a few moments. The last thing he wanted was some emotional conversation and apparently here he was being dumped into one. He went with his first instinct- rebuttal as self-defence. Hiding any vulnerability. Worked every time. ”I’m not stringing you along. Sometimes, I just don’t wanna fuck. Is that too difficult for you to believe?” Honestly... yeah, it probably was. Everything Brendon was doing was clearly intentionally to rile Ryan up. Denial wouldn’t hide that. Brendon, what did I do? Out of curiousity.

Well, what was he supposed to say? ‘You didn’t do anything, I just wanted to get all your frustration pent up so you’d fuck me harder next time’? ‘I’m terrified of allowing myself to become vulnerable around you’? ‘I actually really like spending time with you and it scares me’? None of them sounded like particularly good options. Brendon clicked his tongue and folded his arms across his chest, drawing himself up straight to at least appear a little taller. Ryan was slouching a little so it kind of worked. ”Nothing. Just wanted you to be a little riled up for next time, that’s all.” Of course he went for that one. The one that would make Ryan the angriest. Of fucking course he did.

sorry to get sentimental tonight

Yeah, so maybe they’d only been officially dating for six months, they’d been practically boyfriends for a long time, way too close for two people who were apparently ‘just friends’, and in a situation where one of their paychecks depended on the other. It was, in many ways, not an ideal situation- things had started out in a semi-awful downtown LA bar, one that seemed to be going for some kind of vintage vibe but only achieved a ‘hasn’t been dusted in a year’ look, and from that meeting Brendon had so far earned a new job, a salary multiple times higher than the one he had been earning prior to accepting the offer, and if he fast forwarded through more significant lifestyle changes, he had now ended up with a fiancé. They were- unconventional, to say the least, and Brendon supposed he was just trying to reason with himself that getting engaged after six months really wasn’t that far out considering some of the other shit he’d done since meeting Ryan Rowe. What was so bad about it, really- they were in love, lived together, we’re both definitely in it for the long run- even if this was some kind of honeymoon phase, he wasn’t too worried about leaving that phase because things were so overwhelmingly good with Ryan he couldn’t ever imagine them being bad or even just mediocre. In his arms Brendon felt safe, comfortable, at home. He’d never been so sure of something or someone in his up to now chaotic life.

So, yeah. Brendon wanted to marry him. He imagined others would have something to say about their quick engagement- fans of Ryan, people who definitely weren’t fans of Ryan, Ryan’s questionable number of exes, Ryan’s friends, Brendon’s friends. Maybe even Ryan’s management. Brendon and Ryan’s relationship was public, yeah, but many saw it as some damaged rockstar going through a phase. He’d had so many girlfriends, what else could it be? A marriage might shake up his image. Brendon knew Ryan wouldn’t give a fuck, but, still. It had the possibility of turning their lives and careers upside down, at least for a little while until the ‘adoring public’ settled down with the idea that Ryan had settled down and wouldn’t be marrying them instead. Brendon blinked and then closed his eyes, reminding himself that he wasn’t even sure if Ryan had been serious when he asked, he shouldn’t get so far ahead of himself. After all, the two of them were often nonsensical and incoherent during the heat of the moment, this could just be another one of those incidents. He knew he had to make sure but he also knew Ryan would be thinking the same thing, wanting to clarify things, so he stayed silent. Ryan was more likely to confront it first anyway.

As if on cue, Ryan spoke, and Brendon felt a surge of affection, immediately moving up and pressing himself comfortably against Ryan so he could easily reach his jaw where he then planted a kiss. They locked eyes for just a second before Ryan looked away and Brendon smiled. You’re beautiful, you’re incredible. You’re the most astounding thing I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me. Laughing, he silenced himself only by attaching his mouth softly to different points along Ryan’s collarbone, simply tracing over the lovebites he’d already left there, dark against Ryan’s pale skin. He couldn’t help his subsequent affected, audible inhale, and had to close his eyes for a few seconds to compose himself before they fluttered open, wide and innocent and amused by Ryan’s painfully obvious nerves. He was so fucking cute. Brendon hoped to god that had been a legitimate proposal. However, he had no mercy, and intended to make his boyfriend/fiancé squirm- and squirm he did; Brendon repeated more explicit things that were said and Ryan reacted with blatant mortification. My poor baby, Brendon thought, and decided to cut him some slack, it was the least he could do after Ryan had dicked him down wonderfully and proposed at the same time. He couldn’t ask for a better man.

Still, he had to make sure Ryan meant it, and it was his turn to be slightly apprehensive. He let Ryan manoeuvre them both to a more comfortable position (haha, funny, Ryan was an expert at that by now, yeah, yeah) and met Ryan’s earnest, searching gaze carefully. I meant it. His heart soared and it was embarassing but Brendon grinned like an idiot, dropping his chin to his chest and looking down, as if incredibly distracted by the rise and fall of Ryan’s chest. ”You just officially made that the best sex I’ve ever had,” He declared, surging in for a brief kiss before pulling back and letting Ryan speak. I didn't exactly... I mean, in all of my dumb imaginary scenarios, this was not one of them, but I meant it. A shrug from Brendon. ”Hey, it worked for me,” He reasoned, dancing the tips of his fingers lightly across Ryan’s skin, ”And at least it wasn’t cliché, right?” Another damn smile. He couldn’t stop smiling. This was so ridiculous, but then, he supposed, so were they. So was love. It was all so goddamn wonderful and maybe the afterglow kind of contributed but Brendon was positive he’d never been so happy in his life.

I’ll get a ring, even. Brendon raised his eyebrows and snaked a hand to close his fingers around one of Ryan’s wrists, holding it up in the space between them, indicating Ryan’s numerous rings that they apparently didn’t wish to waste time taking off. ”You’ve got enough, I think,” He grinned and stuck his tongue out slightly between his teeth, eyes squinting up at the corners as he kissed the back of Ryan’s hand and then let go of his wrist. They were relaxed and earnest and though Brendon adored it, he still delighted in changing the mood by pressing his hips down without warning, studying Ryan’s face for reaction. ”So, I’ll think about it,” He teased, leaning forward to catch Ryan’s bottom lip in his teeth, hands curling through his hair. ”If you propose to me again, in a different position.” He was joking. Kind of. They were... A little too much sometimes.

sorry to get sentimental tonight

So Ryan had proposed.

Brendon, honestly, was trying not to give it too much thought for fear of beginning to regret saying yes already. It was- a peculiar proposal, to say the least, the last situation wherein he’d ever expected to get engaged. The words had tumbled from Ryan’s lips after a punctuating, drawn-out breath- ‘will you marry me’- and he had looked into Brendon’s eyes, dazed but obviously completely enamoured and impassioned. His voice had been low and husky, it was all so quick and almost jarring, and Brendon, in a similar state to his lover, no coherent thoughts occupying his mind besides ryanryanryan, had almost immediately accepted. There were a few heartbeats that passed, time that he took to process Ryan’s words, and then Brendon had exhaled out an excited ‘hell yeah’. That was- technically- saying ‘yes’. They were- technically- now engaged. Brendon was lying with his head pressed comfortably against the warm skin of his fiancé’s chest. Fiancé. At first, when they’d just collapsed boneless into the sheets, they basked in an air of affection that would be expected after a copulation-marriage proposal combination; but even as Brendon started to drift off, he started to doubt it all just a little.

The first thing was, it clearly wasn’t planned. There was no ring, and, more obviously, it had taken place in the heat of a very intimate moment, where emotions were heightened almost irrationally. Not like Ryan would ever set out to propose specifically during that. Knowing him, he’d make it an entire event, romantic and sweet, some grand gesture even though he wasn’t even that fond of such things, but he knew Brendon was, so he’d do it for him, and- well. To be honest, Brendon wasn’t sure why he had even been thinking about that as much as he had, in reflection. They’d been dating for about a half a year, maybe a little more, and though they were quite clearly and openly in love, most people would agree that six months was not a very long time and not long enough at all, not even close, to consider ‘tying the knot’, so to speak. But. They’d always been unconventional. Their relationship had started out as a potential hookup gone wrong (or gone right, depending on how badly either of them really wanted it that evening), turned suddenly into a job opportunity, and out of nowhere, Brendon had then started falling for his boss, the frontman of one of the most popular bands in the world. And then they were dating. And now- engaged.

Brendon was relaxed against the mattress and was listening to Ryan’s steadily slowing heartbeat, thoughts racing despite the apparent surface level peacefulness, and he cursed the situation for a second because usually afterwards they just cuddled and fell asleep, sweet and gentle. Now all he could do was stare off slightly distantly at the wall, his cheek pressed against Ryan’s chest, too distracted to properly come down. It wasn’t all bad, though. He was certainly comfortable and it wasn’t like he was totally freaking out and wanting to backpedal immediately- it was just so out of the blue. And they were both yet to mention it. And Brendon sheepishly recalled that he may have been so enthusiastic about something Ryan did, not something than said, like, ‘will you marry me’. Okay. He was slowly starting to panic. That said, when he heard Ryan’s voice and felt his hand sliding across his skin to curl into his hair, he remembered that he was completely enamoured with the man and- he wouldn’t mind marrying him. Not at all. Hey, Bren. With almost obedient punctuality, Brendon lifted his head and shifted up a little, angling his head to nip playfully at the edge of Ryan’s jaw, soothing it with a quick kiss. He propped himself up on one elbow and moved the other to curl into Ryan’s hair after he ran through his own with his fingers, trying to tame it somewhat. ”Hey, baby.” His voice was somewhat raspy. So. Oh. Knowing what was coming, Brendon quirked an eyebrow and swallowed. This could be interesting.

”So.” Patient, he studied Ryan’s face closely, having memorised every detail anyhow, but, still. He was art. ”Before y’say anything. You’re fucking astounding.” His laugh came out almost as a hiss. ”That was, uh, incredible.” Brendon sucked on his teeth and let his eyes drop down to Ryan’s mouth but he didn’t make any moves, just waited dutifully. So, uh, what I said. An innocuous twitch of the eyebrows followed. Some... Things were said. As if oblivious, Brendon’s eyes were open endearingly wide, innocent, like he had no idea what Ryan was so hesitant about. Did you... Did you mean. That?

A laugh from Brendon and he shrugged a shoulder, dipping his head to trace a few featherlight kisses on Ryan’s collarbone then moving up and making space for himself in the crook of his shoulder, hiding his face there mostly so Ryan would hurt him instantly. [b]”Y’gotta be more specific, babe. Things were said, but are you referring to [i]fuck me harder[i]- he replicated that with jarring accuracy- or will you marry me?

Yes?

Brendon swallowed. So, they were really actually gonna have this conversation now. Turns out a great way to ruin what was supposed to be post-coital bliss and then a long, long sleep was for one idiot to propose and the other to say yes. Why couldn’t he have waited? ”Well. Did you mean it when you asked me?”

old fashioned

Brendon came to this bar relatively often, funnily enough, considering he could more than afford to frequent more upscale establishments. Such speakeasies were specially tailored towards those of perceived higher class and/or wealth- so, just for Brendon, except. They weren’t. Funnily enough, the richer the folk, the more intolerant they tended to be- so when Brendon has ascended to his certain level of fame (which he was kind of certain had plateaued in a musical sense, but his reputation could only spread further based on his personal and social life and... preferences), and he began trying to fit into classier speakeasies (something of an oxymoron in itself), he found that at the top people were just shittier. Wasn’t like there was a bar somewhere made specifically for rich gay men- usually because openly gay men never had the opportunity to make their fortune due to an unfair society unless they wanted some kind of career in entertainment. So, Brendon had lucked out, in a sense, and quickly learned his place- which was back in these places, smaller buildings with a closer knit pool of customers and a friendly owner he could become fond enough to call a- treasured acquaintance. Hey, Dallon knew he used the place to pick men up, sometimes, and he hadn’t yet said anything. So. Brendon felt comfortable here, safe.

Not that he wasn’t still careful, because being as he was, if he was recognised by some closed-minded individual or he misread the signs and hit on someone who didn’t swing his way, there could be- usually would be- consequences. That was a hard lesson he had learned with time. In the beginning, he had been proud and spiteful and he had felt invincible, starting fights with anyone who dared call him some hateful name or taunt him for how he was. As he grew older and was thrust into a modest spotlight, he didn’t become any less proud, he just learned when and where was a good place to show that pride. When he glanced over at the tall man sat beside him who had offered to buy him a drink, he had been cautious, because who knew if it was just some guy wanting company, and not in the way Brendon hoped- but after he caught his bootlegger in the act of fully letting his eyes drift to his mouth, Brendon relaxed his shoulders and eased himself into charming fluidity. He watched and tilted his head with interested as Ryan straightened up and he not very subtly admired his height. He was taller than Brendon, which meant he was in with a fighting chance. Lucky him.

Almost didn’t recognise you, sir. Brendon laughed, and stuck his tongue out between his teeth slightly, his eyes crinkling up fondly at the corners, visible through the slightly too-large eye holes of the mask he was still wearing. Then- that wink- Brendon had gone to speak but the words became stuck in his throat and he cleared it by coughing, flustered, holding a hand up to excuse himself and wrapping his fingers around his glass with the other, bringing it to his lips to take a hesitant sip. Pull yourself together, Brendon. You’ve seen him before. You knew already that he’s gorgeous. But- okay, now you know he plays for the same team. Interesting development in their professional relationship, but- Brendon could live with that. He studied him further, his countenance, and entertained the idea of referring to him by ‘Sir’- sure, Ryan worked for him, but. He looked like he was... Powerful. In a different way. If he handled all his transactions like he’d handled them with Dallon and then Brendon himself, well. He was now a strong admirer of the man and was intensely interested in getting to know him better, in perhaps more ways than one. I’m flattered. Brendon raised his eyebrows quickly and took another sip from his glass before setting it back down, readjusting his mask absently. ”Should be.”

You succeed. Brendon flashed him another enigmatic grin, winking to return Ryan’s from just before. ”Grand of you to say, sport,” He rested his elbows on the counter and then gestured towards Dallon, suddenly distracted once the owner of the speakeasy had drifted into his peripheral vision. I wouldn’t worry too much about his attendance. Brendon lifted the elbow closest to Ryan from the wood and turned himself bodily to face him more fully, one arm still braced casually on the surface. Even more casually he reached out with his foot, nudging Ryan’s while he made eye contact and pulling it back after a few seconds. He is known for being the ‘discounted’ bar in town, after all. Brendon laughed openly, and obviously at Dallon, and Dallon noticed and stared at him suspiciously for a second before he gave up, clearly too patient or not caring enough to bother finding out what was so funny. ”He absolutely is,” Came Brendon’s firm agreement, ”And what’s even better is that he doesn’t even know it.” A sympathetic but amused shake of the head follow and Brendon yet again lifted the half-full glass to his lips, before circling it and setting it decidedly down. After this, Brendon’s interested was swerved away from Dallon and the alcohol and he was instead intent on getting better acquainted with this handsome criminal sat beside him, and close beside him, might he add.

He tried not to let his breath hitch when Ryan moved closer, failed not quite miserably. Appreciate it, Sir. Brendon really wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to stay sensible for, as much as he managed to keep his head about him these days. He managed to compose himself fairly quickly, though, and simply nodded graciously, waving a hand as if it was nothing. It wasn’t like that was to butter him up, or anything- Brendon did like the way he managed his business affairs. He was clearly intelligent, but from what he’d gathered from the brief two instances that they’d encountered eachother, Ryan hadn’t been originally inclined towards breaking the law habitually as a career. That was true for many bootleggers, honestly, but- Brendon recognised a pianist’s hands anywhere. Interesting. Said hands distracted him as Ryan moved his foot to rest between Brendon’s on the rung of the stool, and it took him a second before he realised they had little distance to speak of between them now. Brendon swallowed.

I’ve got all night, Mr. Blake, I don’t intend on spending it alone. Brendon pressed one of his knees against the side of Ryan’s leg, regarded him intently. That was the best news he’d heard all night, and a proposition if he ever heard one. ”Wonderful,” He said huskily, his voice dropping an octave. You don’t have any plans yourself, do you? Well. Not until about five minutes ago. He shook his head maybe a little too fast. You seem like a busy man. ”I make time.” A brief pause, and then Brendon suddenly shifted in the stool and turned fully around to face the counter, picking up his glass and downing the rest of the drink before he stood. ”Apologies, old sport, I’m just going to the restroom. I won’t keep you waiting long.” He brushed against Ryan as he walked past but didn’t even look over his shoulder to check they were understood. Brendon could already tell. He pushed through the men’s room door and glanced around. Empty. It was turning out to be Brendon’s lucky day.

if it's a dream, don't wake me

Ryan had sort of been a rockstar before, but a fledgling, awkward and not quite sure of himself yet. Brendon had just stripped all that away and found everything underneath that he could work with- no, not in that sense, though it would be a lie to say he didn’t often entertain that train of thought when he was alone- and now Ryan had grown into the title, with a new haircut (that made him look frustratingly hot, Brendon had to admit, he hated himself for styling it just the way that got him going), a new wardrobe courtesy of Brendon’s exceptional sense of style and expensive taste, and with it a new air of confidence. He had already been smooth and charming, that was obvious from their first meeting, Ryan was clearly used to all kinds of people and how to treat them at this point in his career- but hadn’t fleshed out into the full-blown rockstar he was today. Brendon could just- well, Brendon was weak. Ryan clearly had an endless supply of compliments and if he kept them coming Brendon wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep these new ridiculously expensive clothes on. No problem. He bit his lip to suppress a grin and pleaded with himself not to flush. He did anyway.

The funny thing was, Brendon had never even been a massive fan of Ryan’s band. He knew of them, sure, who didn’t, but he wasn’t some crazy groupie, not even a casual fan. But now he’d become more acquainted with the music- particularly who wrote and sang it- he was a diehard, endlessly supportive of anything Ryan readily showed him. Plus, when he saw Ryan sitting there, concentrating, playing guitar, his gorgeous hands and long fingers strumming away at strings- it was hard not to become enchanted with everything to do with and around Ryan Rowe. He knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to get too attached- he was a musician, for god’s sake, Brendon had been warned about them before- but Brendon preferred not to listen to common sense and instead let his poor little heart, which sped up whenever Ryan was within a certain distance of him, do his decision making for him. It hadn’t failed him so far- it’d earned him a well overpaid job, new friends, a new lifestyle, and lots of followers on Instagram and Twitter. Plus a possible love interest. Possible. Brendon was far from regretting anything.

Oh, please. What content? You ever seen me take a picture of myself? It doesn’t happen. Brendon held his hands up, but looked wistful, fading off distractedly for a moment. ”I know,” He murmured, vaguely, and he bit his lip for half a second. ”It’s a damn shame.” Clearly, Brendon’s thoughts had taken an imaginative turn, but he wasn’t so distracted that he didn’t hear Ryan’s apt warning about Spencer. The drummer scared him, no matter how harmless he seemed on the surface. Be glad he didn’t hear you say that. You’d be dead for real. Brendon nodded doubtfully and brought a hand up to his own neck, rubbing it like he was subconsciously protecting the vulnerable area from an attack. From Spencer. Hey, you could never be too careful. ”I know. I’m trying to stay in his good books, but- hey, it’s your fault. They all think you give me special treatment ‘cause you’ve got a constant boner for me or something.” A splutter in an attempt to breeze past that comment passed Brendon’s lips and he looked away quickly, stifling a grin but raising a knowing eyebrow.

Whoa. Who said I thought you were cute? ”See: my last comment,” He suggested, folding his arms. ...Alright, I can't get away with that. Anyway, I'll take both. You're worth a little bit of scandal. That earned a laugh. ”Yeah, you think you’re slick. You need to find a better resting place for your line of sight than my ass.” Just a suggestion. Brendon busied himself then by checking the sizing of the jeans, amused but not surprised by the intentionally tighter fit Ryan had apparently gone for when deciding what to buy for him. What? Uh- maybe a little intentional. Hey, nothing wrong with them being a little snug. It's complimentary. Tilting his head to the side, considering, Brendon nodded, noticing but having enough mercy to not comment on how distracted Ryan was yet again. Well. Since they were both being open now, apparently, tired of subtext and dancing around obvious attraction, Brendon made a proposition, open-ended just in case he’d overstepped. But something told him that wouldn’t be a problem as Ryan ‘Oh’d’ twice in quick succession.

Right, right, I mean... If I didn’t I’d Be skipping a few steps. Brendon’s mouth quirked with amusement. ”You’d be skipping all the way to the best part, though,” He reasoned, feeling his heartbeat annoyingly quicken as Ryan stepped closer. Stupid dumb Ryan with his stupid haircut that Brendon had styled that way himself. He really wanted to mess it up, maybe tangle his fingers into it a little. Funny how things changed. Or I could take the first one. ”Holding hands?” He laughed. A joke, but. That would be nice, really. Did I win you over yet? I could burn few a through more paychecks.” Brendon’s smile faltered and he folded the jeans, placing them over the back of the sofa. ”Y’know you could’ve had me from day one right? Of course you’ve fucking won me over. Dumbass.”

you and i will always be my dream

Though to many I’m aware that I seem a free spirit, eccentric, unpredictable, only Ryan knows me well enough to have figured out that I live by a rhythm and I put all importance in having control over everything. It is from this that sometimes in the past we have argued; I felt threatened later into our joint musical careers and due to feeling an intense need to be in control of the music as we grew older, it caused a rift in the band and that is why, for years, I have worked alone. Or, I did work alone- I can’t remember the last time I sat down to write or play the piano or even dared to sing a note for fear of it not sounding like the voice I am used to.

I am terrified, because I am not in control. I have never really been in control. Every time I seemed to be getting better I was just fooling myself when really it was just my addiction creeping into the shadows for a while, pulling me into and uneasy security, until it crept out and took its tight hold on me and decided to go back to ruining my life.

And Ryan’s life. I glance at him almost distantly, feeling my throat close up. He deserved- deserves- someone so much better than me. His entire life has been spent looking after me, walking on eggshells around me like I’m some kind of helpless case. Which- well. I suppose I now am. Inhaling and exhaling shakily, I feel my heartbeat quicken only slightly and I make a move to hide my face in Ryan’s chest but he holds me before him and I hesitantly meet his eyes. But only for a second. I know what I look like. I don’t like that he can see me like this, I’m sick and ugly and though I avoid my reflection these days it is all I am aware of when I gaze into his- gorgeous eyes. Honey-gold. They are the last thing I want to see before I die, I decide, not that I had ever considered anything else.

He pulls me in and I choke back the feeling of being close to tears against his shirt, wrapping my arms desperately around his waist, clinging to him like he is my lifeline. My heart only beats for you, I think, and he is breathtaking enough then to stop me from being all somber and depressing as I am all the time now. Instead I grin, stay stood there swaying slightly as he shrugs of his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. He always did this, even when I didn’t visibly show signs of being cold or ask for his coat. He just knows. I remember what I look like and drop my eyes to my feet, but I am still smiling. Despite all the songs about it. ”Well, you always were a romantic,” I offer, raising an eyebrow just a little as my fond smile wavers gently.

And growing up on the West Coast. I’m a walking contradiction. Laughing, I shrug one shoulder weakly and lean into his side as he wraps his arm around my waist, and we fit together so naturally, so easily, we’ve walked like this thousands of times before. ”I’m just proud to say that I’m the one who took your ‘seeing the sea in real life’ virginity.” I try to joke but it’s lame and I shake my head, smiling at myself all the same. At least I haven’t lost my shitty sense of humour yet, right?

We aren’t really- both walking. I thought I was strong enough for this and I grow frustrated that I have to lean most of my wait into Ryan, but I say nothing, unwilling to show weakness even now as I stand, a dead man walking. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I begin to taste blood and it is like metal on my tongue, bitter and sharp. I grimace at the sand but then Ryan is kicking his shoes off and I realise we are by the shoreline and Ryan brings us to a stop. Watching as he stoops and rolls our pant legs up in turn, when he finishes I seek his hand and lock our fingers together, butter again that I must rely on him so much. He is the only person I would let take care of me like this and even with the only man I have ever loved it is mortifying.

I stare at him until he looks away and we walk on a little, stepping into the wet sand and then into the shallow line of water is it ebbs up and down the shore, the tide soft and gentle on my skin. It’s cold. I’m so cold. I say nothing, I suppress a shiver and grit my teeth and stop again when Ryan comes to another halt, leaning into his side. I barely notice the birds, or the people further along the beach. He is all that matters to me. He is all I have left.

Brendon. I know what’s coming and look sharply at him, my eyes narrowing, still somehow mustering up some defiance. I don’t need his pity or misplaced guilt. I just need him to be with me. ”Don’t.” My voice is not as harsh as I intended it to be, more hoarse. Brendon, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do anything sooner, I just. I let go of his hand and move to stand in front of him, the water now lapping at our ankles and the light breeze stirring his hair. My eyes search his face intently. He is so beautiful. I need him to know that this isn’t his fault. ”Stop,” I insist, pressing my hands against his chest and leaning against him again, tilting my head back slightly to look at him. I let you down, baby.

”No,” My voice is faint, distant. I’m tired, weak, I can’t muster any more fire than this. Instead my voice is hushed, but pleading. He can’t watch me die thinking it is his fault. ”I have nobody to blame but myself.” I can’t die knowing he blames himself. ”All you’ve ever done is love me, and- and you stuck to our vows, can you believe it, in sickness and in health- I love you-“ I start to choke on my words and to try and suppress that I lean in, moving my arms to wrap desperately around his neck, and kiss him. Gentle. He is so, so gentle. He can’t live the rest of his life after I die thinking what if, what if. I won’t let him. I pull back and rest my forehead against his. ”I love you.”