Neve

i don’t want to hear you’ve got a boyfriend

When Zack has told him that he and the rest of the crew had decided to kick Ryan out long before the show even started, Brendon had whined his complaints, argued that Ryan didn’t distract him, they just hung out, he was never late to go on stage- but the show previous they’d been recklessly hooking up during the damn countdown and that was all the evidence the crew needed to confirm that Brendon and Ryan were incapable of keeping their hands off eachother while they were alone for longer than, like, two minutes. So Brendon had nothing to stand on. After a while of just grumbling, he sought out Ryan, told him the bad news, and they managed a brief, public defiant kiss before Zack was hauling his very reluctant boyfriend out into the street. Honestly, it was embarrassing- they could be decent, they weren’t animals. It had just kind of become ritual at this point- even when Ryan was still in the band, they had a reputation for holding everyone up while they were busy making out in the dressing room, or something. Huh, so maybe Zack had a point.

Once Brendon had finished the show and bounded backstage, running entirely on adrenaline, he immediately dug his phone out from under piles of clothes and checked it- predictably, most of his notifications were texts from Ryan. He predicted from the poor spelling and persistence of his messages that Ryan was more than a little tipsy, and he was frankly excited to see that. It wasn’t often that Ryan became that undone- usually he was the one looking after a drunk Brendon who could barely stand up. Once he answered his phone and Zack located him, Brendon quickly got changed into something warmer (it had been really hot inside the stadium when he’d been sweating excessively but once he stepped out into the night it was freezing) and then climbed into the car, texting Ryan a simple ‘I love you too’ and then waiting for ten minutes until they pulled up outside the bar. Zack had quickly headed inside to receive their package and moments later his baby was curled up against the window in some kind of state, and Brendon was both endeared and amused, looking forward to making fun of him the following morning.

Though it was funny, he was still a mess, and Brendon reproachfully muttered that it would have been easier for everyone if they’d just let Ryan stay. So what if they spent some valuable time fooling around when Brendon should be getting ready? The shows were always incredible. Zack was just a control freak. Anyway. He wasn’t too bothered so he dropped it and then leaned over to make sure Ryan was fastened in when he clearly couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do it himself. Loud. Brendon grinned as he slid his hand affectionately down Ryan’s chest. ”Sorry, baby,” He said soothingly, but it wasn’t as sympathetic as Ryan maybe would have liked. When he met Ryan’s eyes he could tell he wasn’t fully with it but he leaned in anyway to steal a kiss, a little deprived after hours of being apart from him. Yeah, Ryan was drunk, but what he didn’t expect was for his usually devoted boyfriend to both curl his hand restrictively around Brendon’s, and then pull back violently in response to Brendon leaning in. He was stunned.

Woah, hey. Hey what? Brendon paused, baffled, and then pulled back, extremely affronted. His lips were parted and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His mind began to race- had he done anything wrong? Had he not argued enough against Ryan being kicked out? He was lost. And kind of annoyed. But Ryan was drunk, he tried not to look too upset. I have a boyfriend. ”Wh-” Brendon’s eyebrows raised and it took him another few moments before he realised what was happening here. Ryan didn’t even know who he was. He wasn’t sure whether to be flattered that Ryan was so violently rejecting someone he assumed to be a stranger, or offended that he didn’t even recognise his own lover. Honestly. What a state. Still, Brendon was less annoyed, now, having been provided an explanation, and he sat back, pursing his lips. Oh really,” He said dryly, looking down at Ryan’s hand when he pressed it against his chest to push him away. What a dumbass.

Still, this could be a good opportunity. Brendon’s apprehensive grimace fell away into a mischievous smile. ”What a lucky boy.” Zack laughed. Brendon shot him a glare. This was not helping his ego. He’s famous, so you better... be careful. I’m spoken for. Brendon stifled a laugh and leaned back against his side of the car, letting his head fall against the window. ”Famous? That’s dope, dude.” A pause, he tilted his head as if extremely interested. He wanted to see what he could get an intoxicated Ryan to say about him when he didn’t think that- Brendon was the real him. This could be a fascinating insight. ”What’s he like, then? Is he pretty?”

i don’t want to hear you’ve got a boyfriend

Yeah, it sucked that Brendon couldn’t be with his boyfriend all the time, and he made that very clear during every single show where he stopped for a few seconds to talk about how he missed home, how many shows they’d done, how many were left. It was just fortunate for him that his security thought Ryan was harmless enough that he could be allowed pretty much wherever he pleased- well, the harmlessness, and the fact he and the frontman of the band were an item, and Ryan used to be the guitarist for said band. He still held onto some of those privileges and he sometimes fooled new crew members into thinking he was still part of it, Brendon had been told. He found it likely; he figured if some interns couldn’t even spell his name correctly, there would be some rookies who weren’t even sure of the lineup. Anyway, Ryan had free roam- almost. The night previous Brendon had impulsively brought him up onto the stage for one of the most meaningful parts of the show, where he draped himself in colourful pride flags and the fans shone their phone flashlights through the coloured hearts, all of that. It was an ecstatic moment, but Zack seemed to think it had diverted too much from the strict plan, so for the next show Ryan wasn’t allowed near him at all, save to say goodbye and good luck before the show.

Of course, they were both stubbornly obsessed with eachother so it was difficult to keep them apart- eventually, after they were discovered rendezvousing in Brendon’s dressing room when he was supposed to be, y’know, getting dressed, Zack physically removes Ryan from the premises and when he came back he told Brendon that he’d instructed Ryan to go entertain himself some other way. Though Brendon missed him, and regretful that they only managed to steal a few kisses before they had been tragically forced apart, he was amused by it all, and just smiled and shook his head. The question was- would Ryan be able to entertain himself for that long? God knows what he was out doing. Brendon’s best bet was that he just went back to the buses- or the hotel, Brendon couldn’t remember where they were sleeping tonight- And was either asleep or reading something, maybe absently scrolling through his phone. He wasn’t sure. Either way, there wasn’t much time free for Brendon to think about that- the show was about to start and though he thought fondly of his love during associated songs like death of a bachelor and nine in the afternoon, for the most part he was fully in show mode.

As such, he didn’t even think about Ryan again until he’d finished the final song, picked up his discarded t-shirt and walked off stage back to his dressing room. Only then did he notice that Ryan wasn’t around waiting for him as he kind of expected, believing that Zack would cave and let him wait around towards the end of the show. But Ryan wasn’t there, so he sought out Zack and asked him about his whereabouts- Zack didn’t know either. Brendon wasn’t worried. He was probably asleep or something, that’s why he didn’t answer his phone when Zack texted him or called for the first time. Just in case, though, after he’d very quickly showered and changed into fresh clothes, he waited while Zack called for the second time and listened when Ryan finally picked up. All he heard at first was an unintelligible mumble, and Zack immediately asked him if he was drunk. The corners of Brendon’s mouth pulled up into a disbelieving smile- if he was, the rest of tonight was going to be fun. Ryan didn’t get drunk often so Brendon relished the chance to see it and tease him about it. Not the drunkest I’ve ever been. Brendon stifled a laugh, thought back to the drunkest Ryan had ever been and raised his eyebrows. The bar was pretty high there, so it was likely that his lightweight boyfriend was fucking wasted. Cute. ”Dumbass,” He shouted, hoping the receiver picked it up.

Zack paused and then asked where he was. Brendon followed him as he went towards their driver and stood by as his bodyguard instructed them where to go to pick up a lost Ryan. Clearly he was past it, because he heard him asking someone else where he was. Honestly. And he called Brendon that one that was hard to control. Leave Ryan alone for three, four hours, and this happened. Increasingly amused by the way events were playing out, he got into the back of the car and Zack got into the passenger seat, before they headed off to the random bar that Ryan had found himself in. Ten minutes later, they stopped outside some decent-looking place and Brendon was about to get out of the car but Zack said he had it handled so Brendon shrugged and settled back down. He supposed it would be more difficult for him, who was dismally little, to drag a much taller and reasonably stronger man out of a bar and bundle him into a car. He watched the door and a few moments later Zack re-emerged with a... dishevelled looking Ryan in tow. Brendon couldn’t help but grin wildly and expected a greeting when Ryan got inside, but he was turned fully the other way, staring at the window. Okay, rude. ”Dude, this is why y’should’ve let him stay.”

Where are we going? Brendon paused, looked him up and down. He was such a mess. Brendon loved him so much. He was trying hard not to beam with affection so he suppressed it and prodded him in the side, trying to get his attention. ”Hotel. Hi, by the way,” He said loudly. ”Good to see you too, handsome.” Leaning over, He fastened Ryan’s seatbelt and smoothed a hand over his chest. Idiot. I’m going to sleep. Huh. The ‘caring boyfriend’ part of him was relieved, Ryan needed to sleep this off. The ‘amused bastard’ part of him wanted Ryan to stay awake so he could have further entertainment. The latter won over the former and he leaned in, anticipating kissing him. ”Not on my watch.”

i could be better but baby

In Brendon’s opinion, he didn’t have a drinking problem, nor did he even have a problem drinking- he just liked to enjoy himself, let go, have fun, worry about it later- or never. These days, Ryan was doing the worrying for him, the worrying he’d never bothered to do for himself. And since he wasn’t used to people caring so much about his questionable habits (or they were intimidated by a playboy brat and didn’t want to criticise for fear of rebuke/losing favour), it did get a little too much sometimes when Ryan sighed exasperatedly when he said he was going out at like, 3am, just because he didn’t really understand. He’d lived a lot of his life like this and had been surrounded by the same crowd his whole life- reckless little privileged teenagers who had grown into reckless little privileged adults. Though Ryan was the man who knew him and loved him best, he came from outside of that scene, way outside. Hell, he barely even drank himself. That never bothered Brendon, he just didn’t quite get it. But he’d let Ryan get on with his own thing on the condition that Ryan let him get on with his.

Sure, he was an asshole when he was drunk. He’d been told that by hundreds of people. But it was fun, and it wasn’t like he was doing it every night, not even really that close- so he did it, went out, partied, the king of the scene, almost, the spoiled prince, and then was chauffeured or carried home by either Gabe, Ryan, or someone that his father had paid to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t get mugged, or something. The only issue was there was that Brendon was always, shall we say, frisky when he was intoxicated- at least, when Ryan was within view and reach. Ryan, regrettably, refused to even engage with his drunken flirting when he was really gone. Which sucked, but not enough for Brendon to not get absolutely wasted. There would always be other times with Ryan, always, he concluded, and continued to go out in the evenings til the early mornings with a sound mind. Some nights weren’t even that bad, Brendon could handle himself, Ryan was more amused than anything by his princess of a boyfriend, they went to bed after some coaxing from Ryan and woke up to deal with Brendon’s relatively mild hangover. It was a routine. Brendon never thought to ask if Ryan was actually happy with it- nobody else he’d been close to had ever called it into question. So, that was- well, just Gabe.

Last night, though, had been one of those nights where Brendon and just come completely undone, a hot mess, having lost shoes and other items of clothing throughout the night, his childminder Ryan having lost count of how many drinks he’d consumed so far. Luckily, Brendon was a happy drunk, amongst other traits. He rambled on to Ryan about places they should visit and things they should do until he was falling asleep on the stool and Ryan took advantage of his pliancy to guide him away from the bar, final drink forgotten, and into the back of his chauffeured car so they could go back to Brendon’s apartment and make sure his hangover wasn’t too unbearable. It wasn’t. Brendon had endured a lifetime of hangovers and it wasn’t even the worst one he’d had, not even recently, not even close. The only difference was that Ryan had been his supervisor, not some detached employee. Ryan, his boyfriend, the man who loved him. But that wasn’t Brendon’s fault. He expected Ryan to just be like ‘here we go again’ and carry on as normal, tease him in the morning about the things he did the night previous that he couldn’t remember. But when he woke up, Ryan was noticeably quiet. Brendon chose to ignore it.

He was rooting through the cupboards looking for a snack when he heard Ryan speak. They’d been awake for a few hours and though the air wasn’t tense, something was up, the room was slightly unsettled when they fell into a silence that they usually didn’t mind. Brendon had woken up with painkillers, water and coffee on his bedside table and he’d texted Ryan to tell him he was awake- Ryan had almost immediately wandered in and Brendon offered him a charming, grateful grin. They’d murmured the usual automatic ‘I love you’s and shared a chaste, brief, sleepy kiss. Brendon smiled against his lips, but Ryan had pulled back before Brendon could drag him back into bed, and excused himself. About half an hour later Brendon had gotten dressed into just some clean underwear and a hoodie of Ryan’s he’d pulled from his collection, and since then they’d just been hanging out in the kitchen, a lazy and odd lull over their heads. Until Ryan started to talk, with purpose behind his tone. Brendon, baby.

Those two words together could mean a lot of things for Brendon. Usually, it was just to get his attention. Sometimes it was particularly loving and affectionate, sometimes passionate, but then- it could be like that, serious, quiet, and Brendon recognised it, knew Ryan was about to either say some irrelevant or dumb or pointless shit that Brendon didn’t need to hear. So he immediately stopped rooting through the cupboards and dropped his hands to his sides, dropping onto his heels again as he’d been straining to reach the top shelf. He didn’t turn around, just stared exasperatedly into the open cupboard. ”Ryan, darlin’?” Came his patient response, a moment before he shut the cupboard and turned around, leaning with the small of his back against the edge of the counter. Here we go. Brendon ran a hand through his persistent bedhead and blinked at him expectantly.

Last night- you probably don’t remember, but... it didn’t look good. Charming. Brendon raised his eyebrows, unimpressed by that choice of vocabulary. But now he knew what Ryan was about to say and he was sick of this conversation already. When you drink like that... you have no idea how worried it makes me. Brendon stared at his boyfriend who in turn was staring into his coffee. Honestly, he was so sick of fucking lectures. He’d done just fine without Ryan before this, he was still alive, for God’s sake. Ryan suddenly thought Brendon was going to die of alcohol poisoning or something. Though he was immediately defensive, he said nothing, just inhaled sharply and folded his arms tightly across his chest, challenging Ryan to meet his gaze. ”Jesus, not this again. Ryan, im fine. Look at me. Do I look like an alcoholic or whatever you think I am? Fuck.”

I mean. It makes me wonder, y’know, why you need to go that far. ”Fuck off,” Brendon groaned instantly, dragging his hands down either side of his face and turning around to bend over, plant his elbows firmly on the counter and drop his head. ”I don’t need to. I want to.” He straightened and turned around, jaw clenched. ”Just leave me alone about it, alright?” He snapped testily. It’s scary. ”You know what’s scary,” He exclaimed, not thinking, just saying. ”You’re just like goddamn Shane. Trying to motherfucking control me, it’s fucking bullshit.”

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

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.”