Neve

pour out some liquor

So, sometimes Ryan did have business to attend to, and that business was often shady- not that Brendon had a problem with that. He’d been buying from bootleggers for a long time now. What he did have a problem with was being left alone, especially when he was feelinf extra affectionate; what Brendon thrived on, other than music and good whiskey, was attention. That said, though, Ryan didn’t have to leave him much- comparatively, at least, when you looked at how often Brendon had to go and perform or play the host at one of his lavish parties.

...Then again, so he always invited Ryan along to watch him sing, and Ryan never declined if he could manage it. And when Brendon was ‘hosting’ (like he did much of that even before the beginning of their relationship, his entire fuckin’ schtick had been being a practical no-show at his own event), the two of them tended to get comfortably warm-fuzzy from good liquor and disappeared upstairs, leaving Brendon’s plentiful guests unattended. They often awoke in the morning satisfied, so when Brendon came downstairs to survey the wasteland of his house, he wasn’t that bothered. He never really cared anyway, he had people he hired to clean that up, so he could spend valuable time in his lover’s arms.

So, though Ryan tried his very best to always be available, it turned out that tonight he really did have somewhere else to be. Brendon understood, really, but come on. Though Ryan was devout to his reliable reputation and never called in when he was required, even for Brendon, he still had to give it a shot on convincing him to stay. Even just for a little while longer. I can’t, darlin’, you know it. Brendon’s eye twitched. He was turning him down while calling him that pet name he could never resist. That was what Ryan used when he wanted something, and the fucking asshole had to pull it on him now, when Brendon was the one pestering him for his company. Honestly. Brendon sighed, still melted by the endearment like he was every damn time. A good boss doesn’t call in. Suppose not. Brendon knew he should just leave it, Ryan knew what he was doing, but- he was uptight, ran an unnecessarily tight ship, god knew he could afford to cut himself some slack, play it a little looser. ”And a good lover don’t leave me hanging,” Brendon argued, cocking an eyebrow and grinning as he simultaneously leaned in to attempt a convincing kiss.

Please, I always do. Brendon was losing hope at this point, but he was a real firecracker and devil take him if he was going to let Ryan go off playing outlaws over some printed bills while he sat around in his dumpy apartment nursing a bottle by himself like some lonely housewife. So he persisted, but only after leaning backwards, raising his eyebrows as Ryan trailed his hand down his chest. If he wanted it, he could have it, but no, he had to go and ‘break some kneecaps’ instead. Fool. I do need to be there. I’d invite you, love, but you’re little and these bastards really are trouble. Brendon scoffed, clenching his jaw, irritated. “I’m a grown man, Rowe. I don’t need protecting. Y’dont know what kind of shit I’d had to get myself out of back when I was just making a name for myself. Curse of bein’ out.” He knew what Ryan said was meant endearingly, and he knew it was because half the time he did act like some princess who needed waiting on 24/7. But he was pulling every trick in the book he knew to earn a little extra with him.

His pleading gaze fell down to where Ryan was playing with one of the rings Brendon had gifted him. Cute. Brendon had something of a thing for Ryan’s hands, for obvious reasons. He made that obvious by buying him god knows how much jewellery to adorn them with. Clicking his tongue, he then shifted over fluidly into Ryan’s lap, settling down so comfortable and naturally that it was clear it was his second nature to assume that position by now. Ryan was stronger than him, but he leaned back anyways. Good sign. Oh, please. Brendon shifted a little, hopeful. I reckon you’re right, it’ll be difficult. Another good sign. Feeling triumphant, Brendon’s mouth twitched into a winning smirk. But I’ll manage. He celebrated too soon. Brendon’s smirk faded and he opened his mouth to whine his complaints but Ryan just- picked him up, hand under his thigh. Like the opportunist he was he went in almost immediately to try and kiss him but Ryan had already dropped him back down onto the sofa. Fuck.

”Fucker,” He mumbled, folding his arms over his bare chest and slumping, sinking back into the sofa, full sulk mode. As cute as you are, dearest, I gotta jet. No you fucking don’t. Brendon stood up and followed him adamantly. Think I should take a crowbar? A bat? Not sure. Well, He was heading to the bedroom, so Brendon saw another window open as one closed. He didn’t notice the minimal disturbance outside. ”Listen, baby, listen,” Brendon began, his voice dropping an octave so he was now speaking in a soft, growling tone, like he was about to start singing. It was his stage voice- it indicated he was about to put on a show of some sort or another. ”So.” He leaned against the doorframe and his eyes followed Ryan for a second. ”You’re always early, right? Just to make sure. Way early,” He added. ”So- you don’t have to set off, yet, yeah? Just- twenty minutes. Fifteen, maybe. Specifics are down to you,” He grinned, arching an eyebrow. Just to sweeten the deal, he stretched his arms out above his head and clung on to the top of the doorframe, letting the rest of his body hang loose as the muscles of his arms and torso grew taut. ”Y’know, ‘cause you love me.”

pour out some liquor

”Here’s what I think.”

Brendon’s lips, which had been pressed against Ryan’s neck, were ghosting closer to his ear, and he spoke into it softly before catching the lobe playfully in his teeth. He was kneeling on the couch (which was low, made of shitty fake leather and was decorated tastefully with a large red wine stain on the left arm) and he was facing Ryan, who had been previously slumped at a relaxed angle, but had now moved to sit up, clearly interested in what Brendon had to say. An amused grin flashed up for a second on Brendon’s face but quickly vanished, and instead he strayed across Ryan’s face to press kisses along the line of his cheekbone before dropping down to pay attention to his jaw.

”I think-“ He said, kissing his neck again, ”-That you should stay here tonight.” Another attentive kiss to his cheek. Brendon swore that he had intended to get all of this out in one go, but Ryan was looking so pretty, well, he always did, but his hair today- Brendon lifted a hand up from his own lap and curled his fingers into it, swept it sideways, shifted up to bury his face in it and inhale because he smelled so good, it was ridiculous. Honestly, he needed to spit it out before Ryan got bored and did actually realise that he was already late for- ‘work commitments’. Well, they were technically work commitments, but, it also wasn’t exactly legal work. Hence the quotation marks.

”Spence has it covered, y’know?” He continued, sliding his hand down from Ryan’s hair to cradle his jaw and turn his head so they were looking directly at eachother. Just staring into his eyes, Brendon felt a soft, lilting smile tugging at his lips and when he leaned in to kiss Ryan properly, hand still on his jaw, he couldn’t help but smile for real. It interrupted the kiss, but. He really couldn’t help it. He hoped to god that Ryan was feeling up for- putting work aside for the night. ”Y’don’t even need to be there, babe. They won’t forget you in a hurry, I know these guys caused you trouble n’everything, but like you said, once you said it to them straight- They know you mean business.” Brendon dropped his hands back down to his lap and straightened up, sitting back on his knees. You don’t need to be there. I can think of other things to do. Less productive, but maybe... Maybe more pleasurable.”

If that didn’t work, god knows what would. Ryan was very committed to doing things professionally and personally making sure sales and whatnot went smoothly- Brendon truly admired his work ethic, even if ethics weren’t exactly the root of his trade- but he hoped that, if he was convincing enough, Ryan’s mind would be at enough rest that he could skip work this time and leave them both some freedom to play. It was an elaborate plan that had started since Brendon had come over a few hours earlier; though Ryan’s rule of ‘Don’t get high off your own supply’ was one he stuck by strongly, most of the time, he’d been in good enough spirits that Brendon was able to persuade him using his weakness (which was, luckily, Brendon himself) to let him open a bottle of whiskey for the two of them to share. That was an indication that he was feeling generous, plus, they’d gotten through most of the bottle in a short period of time, so.

After studying his expression carefully for a few seconds, Brendon let his eyes drop down to Ryan’s hands, adorned naturally with an assortment of rings. A few of which Brendon had bought for him. He then let his gaze travel back up and, deciding suddenly that he was impatient, he moved decisively over and fluidly into Ryan’s lap, pushing Ryan (who had been facing him) back against the arm of the couch, so he was almost horizontal. Now straddling him, Brendon felt a little more convincing. ”Besides, you look so comfortable. How will you ever even manage to get up? I say stay with me.”

your way

It’ll be romantic, Brendon. If Ryan had said this to him a few months ago, even in jest, it would have made Brendon deeply uncomfortable and uneasy- because although they were on significantly better terms, the intimate aspect of their relationship was still almost wholly physical in nature, everything else, emotional and otherwise, tended to be surface level; friendly, tolerable, nothing more. Now, though, in a perplexingly fast change that began to unfold at the start of this dumb arranged tour, they were much closer, not only as ‘lovers’ (though such a word was only used very loosely) but as friends. Not only did they feel a melodramatically intense passion for eachother, but- they liked eachother. To others, unfamiliar with how ridiculous and childish their situation was and how deep the roots of their original mutual hatred had been planted, it wasn’t a big deal- but to Brendon and Ryan, who had been constantly at eachothers throats for pointlessly wasted years of their lives, it was huge. They played video games together, watched TV, worked on their own lyrics in comfortable silence and occasionally risked asking for an opinion, or often just sat and talked as friends did. Ryan reading to him- these days it wasn’t all that far-fetched.

Even considering their current feud, which was a product of Brendon being a thirsty bastard and still being more than incapable of having an extremely vulnerable discussion with Ryan. Hey, they’d gotten better, but honest communication was still one of their weak points. That was clear then when after his heartfelt, mortifying apology hadn’t worked in winning Ryan over, Brendon instead turned to just pushing him up against the side of an elevator and kissing him in an attempt to just seduce him into being a little more cooperative. Usually, that worked, but Ryan was clearly trying to stay strong and stay mad at him. Brendon had melted into the kiss and into Ryan’s hands and he was way too involved in it when the elevator opened and Ryan all but shoved him aside. Huffing out a brief sigh in disappointment, Brendon was about to complain after he realised Ryan’s anxious measures to prevent discovery were for naught, but then he realised- he had the advantage. Ryan had been practically pliant. So he settled down, preened his metaphorical feathers and followed Ryan with a little triumphant smile.

Shut up. Brendon grinned. ”Didn’t say a word, Ry,” He said softly, shrugging a shoulder and waiting for an obviously flushed Ryan to enter the room so he could follow and they could finally have some privacy. The door slammed shut once he had kicked it, and in contrast to this supposed display of short temper, Brendon’s features were gentle and fond and the only emotion he could muster was affection, and- well. Amongst other things, but Ryan probably wouldn’t appreciate being told again just how much Brendon waited him to, like, fuck him until he couldn’t walk. Brendon was impulsive and didn’t think a lot before he spoke but he wasn’t that stupid. Maybe. Watching carefully, Brendon shuffled forward as Ryan collapsed into his chair before closing the distance between them in a few confident strides and dropping fluidly onto his knees before him. If this didn’t work- nothing would, Brendon might as well hang up his hat right there and then.

Ryan tensed, he felt it under his fingertips when he trailed his hands up his thigh, and Brendon was smiling, fascinated by his responsiveness and amused by how desperately he tried to hide it. Once he was satisfied with how speechless Ryan was, he moved gracefully up into Ryan’s lap, sitting there like he had so many times, falling right into place, like he kind of just belonged there. There were so many evil things he could do, but- he decided to be merciful and just grovelled some more, staring into Ryan’s honey-brown eyes and batting his eyelashes like a goddamn cartoon character. If anything, Brendon was good at getting what he wanted. Anyway, he was almost certain he was going to get what he wanted, when- I can’t follow your rules. Brendon blinked, staring back, suddenly taken off guard. I can’t do this for just one tour. Okay, So- he wasn’t that surprised. Brendon wasn’t completely oblivious. He knew how much Ryan liked him, he just- wasn’t willing to admit how much he liked Ryan. Things were never simple with them. I- I was afraid that I was losing valuable time, when you weren’t talking to me, and. I like you. So. Ignoring Ryan’s hands settling around his waist, almost as if he was trying to ground himself, Brendon instead focused on how fast Ryan was talking. He was nervous. He was fucking beautiful. A pause. A long overdue confession. ”I like you, too.”

The words sounded alien and yet so damn right, and he was going to continue, but evidently Ryan had found fault with his own admittance and was trying to move along, dust it quickly back under the rug from whence it came. I mean. No, whatever, I forgive you, we can- the bedroom’s right there. Sorry. Brendon followed his gaze to the bedroom door and though something still stirred inside of him, he was largely still thinking about how vulnerable Ryan must feel. He seemed desperate, desperate to move on and keep Brendon close. Brendon wanted to assure him he wasn’t going nowhere, so he pushed Ryan back against the back of the armchair, caught him in a fond, lecherous kiss, open-mouthed, trying to sate him into calming down. Brendon’s fingers curled into his hair and he pulled back, lips parted. ”You don’t need to apologise,” He murmured. ”Me not talking to you because I thought that was the best way to communicate with you what I wanted- Stupid. I know that now.” A knowing smile. Okay? Past is the past, bygones, you know; forget what I said.

”Yeah, That isn’t gonna be possible,” Came Brendon’s reply as he arched his eyebrows. ”But, I tell you what, babe. You take me through there- you do to me as you please, and then- we can talk about it. Properly. I promise.”

it's a lovely chemistry

So maybe Brendon hadn’t been dreaming of this since he was fourteen, but still, he had been looking forward to interviewing the recently drafted Ryan Rowe, a right winger (now for the Blackhawks)- he’d naturally been paying attention to what was going on and he knew that Ryan was everyone’s darling right now, top of his game, bound to only get better and more well known after this ‘big break’ of his career, so to speak. Even though he’d already been following him relatively closely, since he’d been informed that he was going to be taking the wheel of an interview with Ryan, he’d done a substantial amount more of research into his background, his play style, his personal records, statistics, everything. Brendon, though seemingly easily distracted and quick to lose focus when something was arduous and boring, was nothing if not dedicated to his job and he wanted to know everything that was public knowledge about Ryan before he got to sit in front of him and find out things that maybe nobody knew yet. He’d even followed Ryan on twitter and Instagram. Even throughout all this research, though, he hadn’t noticed until Ryan had walked in just how goddamn handsome he was, honey eyes and almost windswept-looking chestnut hair. Tall, and built well, too- naturally.

Unfortunately, Brendon wasn’t the only one in the room; a whole crew was with them and it was lucky that Brendon was such a welcoming and charismatic interviewer because Ryan was like a fucking clam, much more reclusive and shy than he had expected- Brendon had watched videos of brief interviews directly after games, Ryan standing there, chest heaving, still in full gear and sweating like hell, and even then when he was clearly fucking beat he had an air of confidence- maybe bordering on arrogance, but he never seemed obnoxious. Besides, it seemed to Brendon that he was good enough at what he did (first in the national draft, for God’s sake) to be allowed to be arrogant about it. Sitting in front of him and the crew, though, Brendon was surprised by how different he seemed from any other time he’d been at a game watching him play or studying any other content online. In the place of a cocky, almost devilish player that he’d expected was a low-voiced, almost nervous man of few words. Even so, Brendon thought he was charming and attractive and when he linked this more intimate picture of Ryan back to how he was out during a game, it was both baffling and extremely intruiging. And not. But it would be, y’know, unprofessional to mention that in an interview- and though it wasn’t easy to believe, Brendon was better at holding his tongue than ever nowadays.

If he had a dollar for every time he’d found an interviewee cute or vice versa, he’d be rich, but if he had a dollar for every time said interviewee asked him out to dinner, he wouldn’t even be able to afford that dinner. It had been a successful interview and they’d wrapped up, shook hands, the crew started filing out to review and cut down the footage, or something. Brendon was busying about with his notes and whatnot and collecting his coat and Ryan hung around, so Brendon paused, and looked up (yes, up, he was 5’6, this guy had five or six inches on him) expectantly. Ryan had then made that interview particularly memorable by anxiously and admittedly adorably asking him on a date. And yes, it was a date, Brendon had to clarify that, because he had seemed way too flustered to even be interested and Brendon was too absorbed in the interview to notice any flirting if he had even tried. Gut instinct told him to say no, but. Why not? When he looked at him without reservations, now, he really was stunning. Rather tragically, Brendon felt goddamn butterflies at the gentleness of the proposal. So he said yes, they exchanged numbers, and organised a date and time.

Brendon was organised, usually. But he spent a long time standing staring at himself in the mirror trying to figure out what the hell to wear. What if he’d misread the whole thing, and this was just a friendly meal? He jumped between two outfits, red pants and a simple black t-shirt or a printed button-up and black jeans. He settled on the former and sorted out his hair and by the time he had finished trying to tame one wild strand, he glanced at his phone and he was already kind of supposed to be at the restaurant. Great. Luckily, Brendon was used to getting to places fast so he only ended up being under ten minutes later, texting Ryan a light-hearted apology. In response, Ryan said ‘see you soon’ and gave him a rough idea of his location within the restaurant. For the first time when he walked through the doors, he was nervous- he was excited, sure, but hadn’t been anticipating nerves playing up. But again, he was just that pretty. As the door swung shut behind him, he spotted Ryan and smiled immediately as he stood and made his way over. There was a beat before they greeted eachother where they mutually debated handshake v hug- hug it was, this wasn’t a business meeting. He didn’t think. Either way- he smelled fucking good, Brendon lingered a little before pulling back, still smiling.

Hey! Hi. I, uh, I didn’t have anything nice to wear. So. Brendon hadn’t paid any attention to what he had been wearing, honestly, too lost in his illegally pretty eyes. When he looked down, though, gave him a once-over- ”What are you talking about? You look great. Real classy. You’d almost not expect you to be a hockey player, but- the scar.” On his bottom lip. Not too classy. All in good fun. Brendon followed as Ryan guided them back to the table, where he spotted a glass of red wine that was pretty much almost empty. Brendon was only disappointed that Ryan hadn’t ordered him one. Anyway, it’s good to see you again- please. What a gentleman, Brendon thought, smiling at him as he pulled his chair out for him, taking a seat when Ryan gestured to do so. ”Thank you. You too.” How are you? Did I end up sounding good in the interview? I may have been a little nervous. Adopting a reassuring smile quickly, Brendon leaned forward in his chair and shrugged a litttle. ”Just a little, but you sounded great. Everyone loves you, now, y’know? You could do no wrong.” It was true, even rival teams begrudgingly admitted he was an excellent player. ”And, I’m great. How are you doing, Ryan?”

a song of pure romance

Sometimes, Brendon missed Ryan so much that it lead to him not even wanting to contact his husband over the phone or otherwise- because then he’d hear his voice and imagine him smiling when he told him something funny and he’d feel his heart swell when he laughed and it’d kill him because he wanted the life of his life with him, all the time. He’d go crazy without being able to FaceTime and all of that shit, sure, but it was- sometimes a curse, rather than a blessing, because he was so close, right there on the screen, but it was so far away when he could be comfortably curled up in Ryan’s arms and it would be warm and safe and he’d be away from the constant buzz and anxiety of tour. Just because he was used to the chaos and hectic nature of being on the road, it didn’t mean he stopped getting overwhelmingly anxious about the whole thing, every time. He was just getting better at hiding it, smiling theoufhthe nervousness and keeping himself above water. When the band had initially split and Brendon went on his first tour without his husband, his confidence and resilience took a crippling nosedive and he almost called off the whole tour for his mental health’s sake, but. He couldn’t do that to the fans. He got over it and pushed through- with a lot of help from Ryan, who flew out to see him just for a few days to make sure Brendon was actually okay.

He was married to the most wonderful man in the world and it was torture to have to be away from him for so long, but. Brendon supposed he brought this upon them both- he had been the one to initially bring up the split, and though it may have been better for the band commercially, in a business sense, it out a noticeable strain on their relationship because Brendon’s schedule was so busy and he was away so fucking much. But they were head over heels for eachother and always would be, so they got through it, as expected. They made distance work and savoured the moments they got to spend alone together. Brendon knew that there would be a lull in his schedule soon, but for the time being, he barely got a chance to breathe between tours and collaborations and musicals and writing albums and doing interviews. It really took it out of him; so, when he finally had a few days free to spend at home, his body screamed at him to catch up on sleep- but his heart told him to just hold on tight to Ryan and never let go.

They had clung to eachother, at first, intertwined and relaxed on the couch in their living room. After hours just enjoying the perfect mundaneness of this, Brendon finally loaded into unconsciousness and Ryan, ever thoughtful, carried him to bed, got into bed himself and pulled a sleeping Brendon into his arms. Ideally, Brendon would have woken up to this, started off his morning with lazy, loving kisses from his husband, relaxed for once in his life, but. Ryan was nowhere to be seen in the bedroom, he was in the living room, and- he wasn’t alone. Z, he loved her, but- seriously? The first alone time they got in god knows how long and Ryan decided this was more important? In his grouchy, sleepy state he couldn’t quite comprehend that maybe Ryan just cared about his health so he stomped off to the kitchen, trying to be a big deal and have Ryan take him seriously- though this was unlikely to happen when he was dressed in clothes way too big for him. Ryan always found this hopelessly endearing. It had been the intention to make Ryan smile but now he was just annoyed and upset and wanted to be alone.

But here Ryan was, making him coffee, trying to kiss up to him to make up for wasting potential quality time with his husband. He wasn’t being unreasonable, he wasn’t. Brendon... Brendon swallowed and spotted the coffee from his peripheral- begrudgingly, he reached out and curled his fingers around the handle, lifting it up to his lips and sipping a little before clearing his throat and setting it back down carefully on the countertop. ”What- Hey,” He mumbled, weakly resisting when Ryan wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and pressed against his back, resting his head in his shoulder. ”Get off,” He argued again, but his voice wavered and it seemed he’d already lost the will to fight back that much. He missed Ryan more than he was annoyed at him, but. That didn’t cancel out how annoyed he was. miss you more than anything, and I love you more than life. Blinking, Brendon literally felt his facial features soften and his muscles relax. In the end, he was a simple man who just needed a little attention to thrive; like a plant, maybe. A very demanding plant, for which the sun was, ironically, Ryan.

I love you too, he thought, too stubborn to say it out loud just yet. Anyway, Ryan already knew that Brendon loved him. All these years had gone by and they no longer needed regular reminding- it was just sweet and romantic. Too much to let you deprive yourself of sleep any more than you already do. If the focused look in Brendon’s eyes was anything to go by, the mug of coffee in front of him was now the most fascinating object in the whole damn world. He was annoyed because, well, Ryan was right. Fuck that guy. Looking out for my health and happiness. Brendon was still stubbornly pouting when Ryan turned his head towards him and pressed a hand against his forehead. ”I’m not ill.” See, you feel better already. Tell me you didn't need a full night's sleep for once. A pause, and Brendon bit his lip, gaze still trained on the mug. ”I needed you more,” He said softly, shifting his weight to one leg as Ryan moved to stand beside him, bodies turned towards eachother. Forgive me and kiss me? It feels like it’s been years.

Reluctantly, Brendon turned towards him, his eyes wide and deep brown, all puppy-dog, looking up from under his eyelashes. ”I just- y’could’ve planned that with Z, like, any other day. We don’t get nearly enough time together, and you spend it-“ He gestured aimlessly, indicative, then dropped his arms to his sides, chewing on his lip again. ”I just miss you.”

your way

You're the douche who wouldn't talk to me. We're even. Okay, okay, so Brendon would accept that what he had done was stupid and wrong, but what he couldn’t wrap his head around was that Ryan had approached him, no waited for him outside the tour bus, and now that Brendon had apologised just like Ryan asked him to and he meant it, suddenly Ryan had the libido of a dessertspoon. On the surface, anyway. Brendon wasn’t an idiot and he knew when he was getting under Ryan’s skin- he’d known him long enough to have figured out what made him tick. And now, not just in a cruel way. Anyway, at this point Brendon had abandoned the useless concept of ego- some things he just valued more. Ryan’s approval, for example. It may have seemed like he only cared about the physical side (after all, he had been willing to dodge him for weeks just to increase his own sexual gratification next time, the epitome of selfish), but he never wanted to upset Ryan, he wanted to be forgiven and wanted things to be okay with them, because. He’d missed him. Not just... Particular parts of him. He wasn’t a fuckboy (though many, likely including Ryan, would vehemently disagree).

”I said I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me-“ He cut himself off at the end to prevent his voice trailing off into a childish, grumbling tone, and fell silent instantaneously, allowing himself to be dragged along towards the entrance of the hotel. Ryan was pushing the door open with his back and Brendon faced him defiantly, perfecting the role of child having a tantrum and refusing to cooperate. Or, at least, cooperating, but with the least amount of enthusiasm possible. I’ll read it to you sometime. Brendon raised his eyebrows and tried his utmost to look as disgusted as possible. It wasn’t hard. ”That’s okay, I’d rather get cholera and die.” Once they were in the lobby, Brendon pulled away to make his point- but followed Ryan anyway when he had the freedom to go off to his own room. Again, fuck dignity. This was more important. Brendon knew exactly who and what his priorities were. He stayed dutifully and suspiciously quiet and refrained until the elevator doors closed behind them, and then Brendon sprang into action, part-Whatever of trying to convince Ryan that not dicking him down was not the way to go.

As expected, Ryan was surprised, but Brendon stayed persistent, batting his eyelashes at him like he was some kind of cartoon, pressing him firmly against the bars along the walls of the elevator and tilting his head, imploring him to maybe give him a chance, it’ll be worth it. C’mon, Ryan, how long are you really gonna keep this up? There was a long (or a seemingly long) period of silence, of nothing, inaction, but then Ryan’s hands were around him (where they should be) and Brendon felt a gentle flutter of his heart combined with a beat of triumph. He had Ryan wrapped around one finger and he knew it, he just- had to figure out how to coax him fully into forgiveness. This seemed to be working. Brendon was leaning in to meet him in a soft kiss but Ryan had already pulled away and the elevator doors were already open. Fuck. Opportunity missed. Brendon grimaced and watched Ryan, waiting for his next move, letting his hands drop down to his sides, dejected. You didn’t convince me. The unsure waver of his voice told Brendon that that wasn’t entirely true, but he refrained from smirking, just smiled at him barely, sweetly. ”Mh-Hm.”

He then followed, his shoulders relaxed, now, his body held lax and a little more sure of himself. His eyes remained fixed on Ryan the entire time- as they walked through the hallway down to their room, as Ryan fumbled with the keycard, as he messed up his curly hair, as he walked into the room, and even as he shut the door- he remained facing Ryan and kicked the door shut, biting his lip. Ryan was trying to fix his hair in vain and Brendon was watching him affectionately, like he hung the stars in the sky. Even if, y’know. He was being annoying right now. They were more alike than people gave them credit for. I’m trying to be mad at you here. Brendon raised his eyebrows, standing with his arms folded across from his ex bandmate. ”Why, love? Seems counterproductive to me.” He cleared his throat, and tilted his head as Ryan brought his fingers up to form a cross in front of him, amused. So stay five feet away at all times. Demon. As Ryan collapsed, seemingly in defeat, into the armchair, Brendon reassessed his methods. Being a little shit clearly hadn’t worked, but- then again, ‘little shit’ was a broad term. Being sweet wouldn’t work, Ryan would just want to cuddle or some shit. Brendon narrowed his eyes and then moved forwards towards him.

He dropped gracefully to his knees in front of Ryan, not smiling at all. Every moment fluid, he brought his arms up and resting both of his elbows on either one of Ryan’s knees, then rested his chin in his hands, blinking up at him as a curl of hair fell out of place and over his eyes. He sucked on his teeth and made eye contact for a second before his eyeline dropped and so did one of his arms, crossing over to the opposite leg and trailing his fingers up along Ryan’s thigh. One hand still propped up his head. ”Ryan,” He began, ”Baby. I’m a clever boy, sometimes. So- I understand your point, okay? You’re in charge, I was wrong, I deserve a slap on the wrist. So- please. Let me make it up you.” His eyes followed the path of his hand and he stopped at Ryan’s upper thigh before he unfolded his legs and shifted gracefully into poor Ryan’s lap. ”I’m sorry, really.”

old fashioned

Brendon’s heart had always been set on music. He was raised in a strictly religious family, which proved more than interesting later on, and though neither of his parents were musicians, they bought him a piano for his birthday once when he was younger, all cliché, and he instantly fell in love. A few years later when he learned he had a decent singing voice- he knew it was his calling, to perform. He’d always been full of energy and hyperactive and often caused trouble and that transferred in his late teens to the small shows he booked at bars, until the prohibition, when he continued to book them only carefully under the noses of his Mormon family. Brendon had known from a young age that he wasn’t attracted to girls like it seemed he was supposed to; instead, he found himself drawn to boys his age in a way that wasn’t ‘natural’, was the only way he could put it in his younger, confused years. As he grew, though, he made peace with it, quickly, and decided that all he wanted to be was genuinely and openly himself, so. When he was discovered and signed to a label and started making traction in the music world- he made sure everyone knew that he was gay. It wasn’t his ‘thing’, but- Brendon was defiant, proud, because he felt he deserved to be. That’d earned him some shiners throughout his life.

It seemed, though, that no matter how obvious he was about it, down to his way of dressing, which screamed fruit, some fans just didn’t catch on. He still earned himself swathes of adoring female fans who granted him bouquets and fawned over him desperately. It was flattering, and he tended to play along for their sake, but really. Poor girls, so naive and ignorant to his obvious flaming nature. Baffling, really- he’d glance down at his outfit just to doublecheck that he’d made sure to look extra fruity this morning. Huh. He supposed the truth just went right over the heads of people who didn’t want to hear it. Luckily, for people of a similar orientation, Brendon’s sexuality was blatant and that was clear from how quickly Ryan picked up on it, only having barely made eye contact before shifting over and buying him a drink. Now, they were in the bathroom, searching eachother’s faces, hands curled around hips, or jaws, or into hair- things tended to just go like this with people like them. Not like they had rich pickings, or anything.

Not to say that Brendon was just ‘settling’. Ryan was gorgeous, intoxicating- Brendon could only blink, enamoured, when he drew a thumb over the scar running through his eyebrow. Interesting story for that scar, Brendon remembered- and bookmarked it as potential pillowtalk. I wouldn't call it inexperienced when you've set a gold standard already. A diamond in the rough. Brendon had to bite his lip to stop himself smiling like a fool, trying to convince himself that it was just flattery, Ryan was just saying words because they had physical chemistry and they were just talking to cut through that electric tension. But- no. Brendon liked him, liked, as he’d said before, the way that he operated. Ryan was fascinating. ”Stop it, darlin’, you’ll make me blush.” I feel as if we’ve known each other longer, to tell you the truth. A soft smile finally fought its way to the surface; he knew how Ryan felt. ”Y’just sayin’ that,” Brendon grinned, but he wasn’t grinning for long, smile dropping when he evilly pressed himself forward, a classic move of his. Hey, if it’s not broken, don’t fix it.

Moments after, they had leaned into another brief kiss, Brendon nipping at his bottom lip with a hint of playfulness, at ease despite the obvious sexual tension between them- the air was full of a strange mix of content and anticipation, and it was confusing but intoxicatingly good to navigate. I’m not goin’ down, sweetheart, but I appreciate that concept. Sweetheart. Brendon dropped his chin but before he could look down at his feet Ryan had caught the side of his face and kissed his opposing cheek in a gesture that was far too gentle for what was, on the surface, a bathroom hookup- which had, admittedly, mostly just been flustered kisses and flattery. Brendon wasn’t usually this slow, but he felt as if they had all the time in the world, no need to rush. Strange. Partners in crime, we are. ”You’re rather confident, Mr Rowe. Complacency is for fools.” He arched an eyebrow, clearly in jest,though he couldn’t quite keep it together long enough to not hint towards future encounters before this one had really even started.

I assumed as much. Charming. Brendon glances at both hands Ryan had curled around the sink at either of his sides and mentally shrugged- he couldn’t really argue with the obviousness of that. And I look forward to it. Fuck, likewise. We aren’t exactly in the most romantic place right now. ”Oh, are you a romantic, Ryan? Listen to this,” He began, tracing the curve of his bottom lip with his finger, ”Think candles and roses and silk sheets. Is that romantic enough for you?” Brendon was going to continue but Ryan had lifted him onto the counter and he felt as if all of the breath had been knocked out of him. When Ryan stepped between his legs he automatically wrapped his legs around Ryan’s waist and pulled him close, tilting his chin up to gaze up at him, lips parted. But we can make it work.” ”Uh-huh,” Brendon said intelligently, rendered unintelligible by Ryan’s deft fingers working the top buttons of his shirt and moving downwards. Ryan was exploring and Brendon was eager to encourage him but then they were kissing, and his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned voluntarily closer, chasing when he pulled away. Have I told you already how stunning you are? I feel like I haven't.

He smirked. ”Don’t just tell me I’m stunning,” He exhaled, pulling him in closer with the vicegrip of his legs. ”Make me feel it.”

sorry to get sentimental tonight

If Brendon was ever asked, say, what his favourite physical part of Ryan was- he wouldn’t know how to answer. He had reached the point where he was so in love that when he looked at him everything just kind of blurred together into just you’reperfect, you’restunningoutstandingbeautiful, and he couldn’t rank anything if he tried, though- he had favourites, sure. His hair- when it grew just a little too long the natural curls became infinitely more noticeable and Brendon thought it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen. His eyes, well, Brendon had enough to say about them that he could fill a book with compliments and descriptors that were worthy, he was tall and handsome with a defined jawline and a gentle smile and his hands- Brendon was gazing at them now, at how the many rings adorning his slender fingers glinted slightly in the dim light, and he was so fucking enamoured, even if he hadn’t been expecting a marriage proposal he sure was goddamn glad it had happened. Almost unable to bear it, he pressed his lips softly against the back of his hand, tender. I’m thinking a date, initials, lyrics... Something like that.

Humming absently against his skin, Brendon pulled back and looked at him from under his long eyelashes, picturing such a ring in his head as Ryan slid on the placeholder carefully. ”Lyrics?” He mused, leaning in before he finished his sentence to meet his fiancé in a loving kiss, ”From an existing song, or are y’gonna write a new one just for me?” Just for me, just for you, just for us. I’d do anything for you, we’re a unit, we belong together, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life, Brendon thought, dipping his head to admire the plain silver band as if it was his real engagement ring. He couldn’t wait for people to ask him about the ring and he’d immediately just launch into an appreciative tangent about his fiancé and nobody could complain because they’d asked in the first place. It was perfect. They had already been in as serious a relationship as they could have been, this just kind of- in addition to the romance of it all, it validated their relationship. Maybe people would stop thinking of Brendon as Ryan’s favourite boytoy. Though he didn’t particularly mind that role, particularly on nights like these. Though he’d probably made that clear enough already.

And I’m yours. In case that wasn’t obvious. It was obvious, and that was the beautiful thing about the two of them- there was no doubt. Brendon couldn’t ask for a boyfriend- fiancé- more devoted than Ryan was. What he wanted to say had already been said, though, so he responded in a way that was more classic of Brendon- pressing his hips down playfully, with no intention other than just winding Ryan up, because he was so cute when he was all flustered. They were kidding again and Brendon then rested his head against Ryan’s bare shoulder, inhaling and trying to regulate his breathing a little more before he drew away. Sorry about that. No he wasn’t. ”No you aren’t,” He laughed, raising his eyebrows adamantly. Brendon already knew how tomorrow would go: they’d wake up, probably stray between murmuring wholesome sweet nothings and fooling around for a few lazy, comfortable hours, then Brendon would get up and try and walk like he hadn’t been railed the night before and Ryan would fall over laughing at him. They’d fallen into the same comfortable routine every time.

He wasn’t mad, though. In fact, he was so enthusiastic about this whole thing that he was willing to risk his neck just to tell Spencer about what had happened. Spencer, who would most likely stare at him in disbelief and then immediately go and hunt down Ryan, hoping Brendon was just joking and Ryan hadn’t really impulsively proposed. Evidently Ryan didn’t really want that to happen. Brendon was too high from the joy of all of this to figure out why. Oh my god. If you tell Spencer, I will kill you, then myself. Sure, he was aware, but. It would be worth it just to see the look on Ryan’s best friend’s face. I mean... if he doesn't do it first. He'll basically be your in-law. Oh no. Brendon’s face crumpled and he sighed as he rolled off to the side, collapsing ungracefully into the sheets. ”He doesn’t even like me. Maybe he’s still convinced I’m just your whore. Which- I am.” The last part of that sentence was uttered like a guilty confession, but Brendon was grinning, his face hidden in his pillow. He felt his muscles relax completely and his body loosen up as he finally started to wind down, serene and happy and satisfied as Ryan trailed his knuckles gingerly down his back. It was pure and soft but then- I could do better.

That would be a level of good Brendon couldn’t even comprehend, so he just lifted his head, cocked an eyebrow and flashed Ryan a smile sickly sweet with anticipation and expectation. Bring it on, he always said. He was about to turn over and drag Ryan into his arms so they could fall asleep but then his fiancé had moved back over to his own side, so Brendon sat up, sheets falling and bunching around his waist as he tipped his head back, stretching out his muscles. Guess I’ll save it ‘til the honeymoon, though. Brendon looked over and shook his head adamantly. ”Why wait? I mean, we need to consummate our engagement, at some point. Give me a few hours and I’ll give you a nice wake up call, baby.” That being said, he was no longer that tired, too buzzed from the elated feeling of - being in love, he supposed. He gazed at Ryan adoringly.

your way

So, though he was arguably in the wrong, Brendon had a few advantages here. First of all, he knew just how attracted Ryan was to him- he’d known that even before that fated night in Seattle, when Ryan had kissed him with a passionate fervour, spitting insults at him between kisses but coming back for more after each offence nonetheless. Now, when their mutual magnetism was undeniable, it was much easier to just slouch deliberately back, push his hips forward, loll his head to one side and look at Ryan from under his eyelashes, not even trying to seem like he was innocent. He could meet Ryan’s eyes and trap his bottom lip between his teeth and the flash of uncertainty and the twitch of his fingers told him everything that he needed to know. Brendon had the upper hand- in his mind, give it another half an hour, and he’d get his ‘reward’ of sorts after the difficult weeks of turning Ryan down. Which was funny, because prior to that, Brendon had been the insatiable one- not just sexually, but he seemed to have a constant thirst for attention and eventually, affection, secretly enjoying just being held in Ryan’s arms just as much as he enjoyed. Being held against a wall or down onto a bed. Yeah, though they were becoming closer and more open, it would take a while for him to be able to admit that.

And that gentleness was the furthest thing from Brendon’s mind right then. He hadn’t even touched Ryan in so long and he was driving him crazy- he was so hot, Brendon want to attach his mouth to the junction of his neck and shoulder and move down, all the way to his hipbones, drive him a little crazy. His head was clouded with less than innocuous scenarios and he was both dumbfounded and frustrated that Ryan was wasting time by pretending that he wasn’t up for it. Though- the look on Ryan’s face. Maybe he was serious. Though Brendon had proposed how they spend the rest of their day already, Ryan seemed dead set on watching some dumbass film on Netflix, and though at first Brendon thought he was just joking, of course he was, why would he pass up this after so long, he’d seemed so desperate waiting outside Brendon’s tour bus like a loyal puppy, it appeared after a few moments that Ryan wasn’t kidding. He wanted an apology, and though Brendon wasn’t dumb enough to think that if he apologised all would be forgiven and they’d be comfortably locking the door behind them in one of their hotel rooms pretty soon, it was, he decided, worth the humiliation of apologising. So he swallowed his pride- and, while he was trying to think of what to say, he actually thought about what he had done. How he was currently treating and regarding Ryan. Like he was desperate, just a convenience to Brendon, when- that wasn’t true.

Brendon liked him, he really did. More than he cared to admit, or rather, more than he was able to admit. Once he had thought about this he settled a little, shifted on his feet nervously as Ryan held him close by his belt loops. He daren’t look him in the eye, especially after such a promise- if he was lucky and sincere enough, Ryan had mentioned something along the lines of fucking him senseless, so. What did he have to lose? Brendon cleared his throat one last time before stuttering out an apology, that, though a little bashful, was geniune. He didn’t want to do anything like that again. He had realised it was childish and entitled and the solution wasn’t even that far-fetched; they just had to talk to eachother, like they were doing now. Brendon’s voice was sullen (as his ego still suffered some bruising) but earnest, and once he’d finished, he looked up at Ryan hopefully, eyes lingering on his parted lips. There was a moment where Brendon held his breath, eyelashes fluttering as Ryan drew his long fingers through his hair, not quite letting himself off the hook enough to smile.

And he was right to do so. You really thought. Confused, Brendon refocused his vision and found himself staring at his smile, that grin that told him everything he needed to know. He’d just been played and outed for just how much he was willing to sacrifice (e.g. his pride) to get dicked down. And it wasn’t even going to pay off. Brendon drew back, offended. ”What?” He demanded, incredulous, tugging his hand backwards in a vain attempt to try and escape his grasp when Ryan wrapped his fingers around his wrist. ”But- I wanna suck yourdick,” He complained, trailing along behind him like an infant having a temper tantrum. This was so unfair. You’re adorable. ”You’re a lying bastard.” But I’m in charge. Suppose he couldn’t argue much there. As bratty as Brendon tended to be sometimes, Ryan was in charge in more ways than one. Unfortunately. How about Fight Club? Doesnt do the book justice, if you ask me. Brendon glared at the back of his head as he was pulled along. ”I haven’t fucking read the book, anyway, shithead,” He muttered, though stopped trying to resist as he was pulled through the hotel doors and into the lobby.

Brendon pulled his wrist free finally and stood with his arms folded like some kind of tiny, angry puppy, too small and precious to be taken seriously. Still- when Ryan beckoned him to the elevator, Brendon followed. Of course he did. He was holding onto hope that he’d be able to seduce Ryan and this whole shitshow would be worth it, finally. They could watch fight club afterwards, or something. No rush. Stepping in front of Ryan, Brendon pressed the call button on the elevator and waited in silence until the doors opened. He stepped onto it and turned around immediately, waiting for Ryan to step inside and the doors to close until he lunged forwards and tangled his fingers in Ryan’s hair, crashing into him to kiss him so hard that if he hadn’t have, like, tilted his head, he would’ve broken his nose. Kissing him lecherously for a good long few moments, Brendon pulled back only to speak, standing propped up on the tips of his toes. ”Please,” He murmured. ”I’ll be good for you.”

i can’t give you my soul ‘cause we’re never alone

Brendon was dreaming of the sky.

He was dreaming of clouds so thick that the sky was obscured, bathed in ochre and rose gold by the sun that hid behind them, soaking them with a sleepy, golden glow. Across the scene there was a haze, some kind of grainy filter, perchance simply the lens through which his subconscious viewed the dream, because Brendon had been to this place, he had lived there for as long as time. The empyrean domain should not be this unknown and surreal to him, and it struck him only how long he’d been away from his home when he viewed the Heavens in a different way- how, he imagined, mortal souls would see it when they ascended. It was beautiful. Breathtaking. Surreal.

Unfamiliar.

It was, in essence, and uneventful dream, but even his unconscious mind he realised that this dream was designed and crafted by his Father as a message, a reminder, almost a warning- Don’t forget where you belong.

Brendon woke up slowly, the soft touch of wakefulness curling around his limbs and stirring his eyelids to a flutter, his eyes remaining lidded. His long eyelashes skimmed his cheek and he let out a soft exhale. He knew he’d been on earth much longer than was normal for an angel tasked with helping out their struggling charge. He knew he’d grown far too used to living like this, sleeping in human beds and living in human houses and eating their food, listening to their music, learning their ways. He probably knew more than his Father thought was safe. He knew that when he inevitably had to go back, he wouldn’t be allowed back down for a long time.

It was just- the mortal world was so refreshingly desperate and vital, everything was alive with electricity, an uncontrollable urge not just to stay alive, but to live. Not just to drift- and that had been the only existence Brendon had ever known. All other instances he’d been down to earth and left in a maximum of maybe a week, and the times between visits were so long that he forgot what it was like each time. At this point, though, he’d been with Ryan for- over seven months. Brendon’s eyes fluttered fully open and he exhaled audibly again, the air rushing past his lips and stirring a stray strand of hair that was curled out over his forehead.

For a long time he’d convinced himself that- he was here because that was his duty, Ryan wasn’t ready to be left alone yet, which- was partially true. But mostly Brendon had found a kindred spirit in Ryan- he had been merely existing, and Brendon knew if he hadn’t entered when he did, his charge wouldn’t even have done that on the mortal plane for much longer.

But he wasn’t just a duty to be fulfilled anymore.

Brendon turned onto his side and there was Ryan, lying on his side with his cheek pressed into his pillow, facing Brendon. In the dim light Brendon could tell that his eyes were closed and his curly hair was tousled and unruly. The sheets were pulled up just a little past his waist and onwards from there, Brendon’s eyes traced a path along his body, drinking in the way the moonlight streaming in through the open window illuminated his skin. He was something holy, something divine, Brendon still wasn’t used to this feeling, he felt suddenly overwhelmed and simultaneously at great peace- There was guilt lying below the surface but Brendon had started to learn the art of burying away feelings until he absolutely had to deal with them.

Brendon, overcome with an intense wave of great affection, close to involuntarily reached out, tangled his fingers gently in the curls of Ryan’s hair and moved down to barely trace his cheekbone, down to follow the curve of his bottom lip. With this great sudden surge of emotion came the start of an increasingly common episode of faint buzzing that seemed to echo from his heart and reverberate through his skin into the mattress, like a feline expression of contentment; He was purring, for lack of a better word, and with his he knew what came next.

Dragging his eyes away from Ryan’s peaceful expression, Brendon shifted, propping himself up on one elbow and reaching behind his back with his free arm to clumsily search for where his wings sprouted from his shoulders. He didn’t have to search long- his hands closed almost immediately around a clump of feathers.

Rolling his eyes up, he became aware his wings were present and was now irritated by their presence as they half-drooped from the side of the bed, so he sat up and folded the one closest to Ryan against his back, let the other hang loose, the tips of his longest feathers skimming the floor.

Brendon was still trembling in the way he did when faced with strong emotion- like how he felt when he looked at Ryan. He didn’t want to disturb him, but it was difficult when the bed had started to shiver slightly, and his ridiculously large wings were brushing against Ryan’s bare skin even when the culprit wing was folded as tightly as possible against his back. Inhaling, Brendon stretched his arms out and clung onto the highest bar of the bedframe, tipping his head back and resting it against a lower bar, willing himself to calm down so he could let his lover sleep.

Lovers, Lovers, Lovers. The voice in Brendon’s head was singsong and louder than the malicious whisperings of his darker thoughts, telling him this was wrong, on so many levels, he didn’t even know what love was, he was emotionally and physically incapable of experiencing it. None of this was real, in his desperation he’d fallen from grace and fabricated some ‘romance’ that was impossible to even have. But-

-Brendon let his head loll to the side against his bicep and gazed at Ryan, his eyelashes skimming his cheeks again. That swell of his chest. How could he make that up? Lifting his head again, the angel stared out of the open window, closed his eyes after a moment and allowed the cool breeze to wash over his skin, listened to the reassuring murmurs of the wind and the soft, consistent stutter of the rain.

Ryan was awash with pale moonlight and Brendon gazed again, entranced, at his sleeping face. Despite his initial hesitation, he then made a decision and opened his wings, reaching out to lift Ryan’s head up gently and then slide a wing under him to support his shoulders, and cushioning his lover’s head. Once he had Ryan cradled, secure, he turned onto his side and nestled his head close to Ryan’s on his own wing, folding his other one over them both and enclosing the two of them, one hand occupied with caressing the side of Ryan’s face and the other holding securely onto his waist. It wasn’t intended as patronising, but- he felt as if all the world and all the heavens were against them. God knew what was happening and Brendon imagined the dream was orchestrated in order to try and coax him back up to where he ‘belonged’. Well. Brendon let his eyes flutter shut. He belonged right here.