nearlylauura (nearlylauura) wrote,
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nearlylauura

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Indifference To His Touch (Part 1//Chapter 6)

Rating: R (language and drugs)
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan, Brendon/Dallon, Gabe/?
POV: 1st, Brendon’s
Word count: 4326
Summary: The Outspoken are undoubtedly the next biggest thing in the world of music, and Brendon should feel lucky that his boyfriend is part of it. But when the elusive guitarist Ryan Ross gets involved, Brendon finds touring with the band more complicated than he ever expected.
Disclaimer: Noooot real.



Chapter 6
 
The muffled tone of screams from a few yards away was greeted by a heavy guitar intro, drifting into an unfamiliar riff before being joined by a quick, paced drum and a steady bass. The vocals don’t start up for another few bars, but they’re good. Fuck. They’re good.
 
I glance around the dressing room anxiously. First night on tour and I’m shitting myself. The only part I have played in the show so far is sound check and helping the initial set up of the stage. I say helping, though I was barely of any use. Most of the equipment was too heavy.
 
I’m a shit roadie.
 
Spencer is sat perched on the sofa opposite me, drumming his thighs in preparation. Next to him sits Sisky, absently plunking at his guitar with a crease between his brows. Patrick is pacing around a few metres away doing vocal warm ups in a hushed tone, an ear piece hanging from a clear wire poking out of his shirt collar. Dallon is sat next to me, with a firm hold on my thigh while I polish his bass. I keep shooting him reassuring glances to cure his nerves but I can tell it isn’t working.
 
The supporting band for this part of the tour is currently on stage, warming up the crowd for ‘The Outspoken’. I met them briefly at sound check.
 
The drummer was a big, well-built guy who insisted on being called Crouton, which I thought, was a bit odd. He had a thick southern accent, which didn’t quite seem to fit him. Alex Suarez, the bassist, had given me a smile and a brotherly hug. We had made idle conversation as I obsessed over his near perfect brown locks. A short guy with frizzy hair had stood loyally next to him, looking slightly nervous. He had introduced himself as ‘Ian’ and had shaken my hand with a good firm grip, suiting for a lead guitarist. Finally, a tall lanky guy, not quite as lanky as Ryan but definitely taller, has stumbled onto the set with deep bags under his red eyes. He pulled me into an uncomfortable hug and bummed a cigarette off me with a quick mutter of ‘Gabe’ in a somewhat cheery voice. Gabe Saporta, the vocalist of the group of men I had just met, collectively known as ‘First Class Mistakes.’
 
The guys weren’t due on for another 30 minutes so the guys weren’t overly bothered about Ryan’s extended cigarette break as of yet. I hadn’t spoken to Ryan since the previous day, and neither to Jon who I was determined to avoid.
 
I still wasn’t sure if I quite believed his words. I know I should, and a part of me wants to but the rest is screaming ‘RYAN’ repeatedly and it’s hard to block those parts out.
 
Dallon is still seemingly oblivious, as he hasn’t freaked out on me yet so I have to thank Jon silently for not blabbing, though I can feel his judging gaze on me.
 
The time passes quietly with only anxious small talk filling the room. The closer we get to show time, the more Sisky’s legs bounces uncontrollably and the harder Spencer drums his legs and the quicker Patrick paces and the harder Dallon squeezes my thigh.
 
Everybody is stressed except Ryan who drift into the room 5 minutes before he’s due to go on without his eyes even flicking in my direction though mine watch him attentively. He walks over to the small wooden table and grabs the set list, eyes flicking over the text and making approving noises as he munches on slices of apple.
 
After a few moments he strides over to where his guitar stands in the corner of the room, flexing his fingers, and picks it up before plucking at the strings softly. He’s only warming up so he just plays random chords, no need to practise. He’s a professional.
 
You can see the difference between him and the others in the room. Though they all have stage experience, they aren’t born to perform like Ryan is. They aren’t stage easy like him. He doesn’t even seem slightly nervous while everybody else is gnawing their nails off.
 
Suddenly Dallon’s hand pulls away from my thigh and I redirect my gaze to him. He’s chewing his lip in anticipation as he stares right into my eyes. I can see the excitement bubbling in him. His first time on stage. I feel oddly proud.
 
He nods towards the instrument in my grasp and I hand it to him, making sure to give him a reassuring hand squeeze as I do. He smiles appreciatively at me before he rises to his feet at the same time as the others on some silent order.
 
Ziplok’s head pokes out from the doorway.
‘Showtime ladies.’ He jokes before cracking the door fully open and returning to the stage side. The roadies file out of the room first, followed shortly by the band.
 
We arrive offstage just in time to see Gabe fall to his knees at the front of the stage as the audience explode. ‘First Class Mistakes’ jog offstage with a final wave to the crowd and high 5 us roadies on the way to their dressing room. Alex gives me a warm smile as he passes, and Ian a shy one while Gabe gives me a check wink and slaps my arse. What is it with supposedly straight men and my arse? I mean I know it’s fucking awesome, but they should at least try to show some restraint.
 
I take to the stage and begin to assist with shuffling the set up around. I make the mistake of glancing towards the audience and something drops in my gut.
 
There’s fucking thousands out there.
 
It makes me nervous to just stand there. I can’t imagine how it feels to share something as personal as music with all those people standing so close and judging you.
 
Jon, who gives me a confused look, hurries me offstage and then the crowd erupts in anticipation. Sarah slides out of the drummers seat and follows after us. Zack heaves the last amp into place and strides off as well.
 
While we were setting up, the band continued their warm ups.
 
I only now notice that although they are all dressed casually in jeans and a shirt, there is some sense of unity in there. Spencer has a bandana tied around his head, but he still looks similar to Ryan who has thrown a burgundy vest on. Sisky’s shirt is black and the top 2 buttons are undone, but he still looks similar to Patrick who has a tight pink shirt on, fully buttoned. Dallon’s shirt isn’t tucked in, and neither is Sisky’s or Spencer’s, but they look similar to Patrick and Ryan nonetheless. Only then does my brain register that they are a band. They are a unit. They are together. And that this thing, whatever it is, going on between Ryan and I could tear that apart.
 
Suddenly, a bright light clicks onto the stage and Spencer jogs on, taking his place behind the drums and raising his arms in response to the audience’s roar. Dallon follows suit almost sheepishly and then Sisky who looks more determined and thrilled then nervous now.
 
Ryan steps forward next, with an easy grin on his face, and slides onto the stage to an explosion of screams. Of course they cheer for him. He’s a fucking sex god. Half the crowd would probably faint is he touched them.
 
‘Not so different to you then’ a small part of my brain spits, and I tell it to shut the fuck up. Because I know it is right.
 
I watch him glide over to his place by the far microphone and settle into a comfortable position with his guitar. I watch as his tongues darts over his lips, readying them. I watch as his hair ruffles slightly as he plucks the string of his guitar slowly. I watch him.
 
Out of the corner of my eye I see Patrick plaster a grin on his face as he joins his band mates on stage and the screaming starts up again but to my surprise, not quite as loud as last time.
 
Dallon gives me a small smile from the stage as Patrick gives the introduction speech. It’s all a bunch of bull about how glad they are to be here, wherever we are, and then he moves on to talk about the newest addition to the band, Dallon. He receives a round of shrieks from the audience as greeting and then the music starts up and it’s an easy ride from there.
 
I don’t carry the set list with me as I have it dedicated to memory but I still tick the events off in my mind as they happen. After the second song, Sarah dances on stage and hands Spencer a new set of drumsticks before the throws the old ones offstage. Sarah explained to me that they were signed and then given away at the end of every show to build up hype.
 
After the third song I stride dutifully on stage. I catch Jon’s eye and he gives me a harsh look. My face drops into a frown and my cheeks blaze. When I reach Ryan and make the change over, he gives me a concerned look.
 
‘Are you okay?’ He asks, leaning over to speak directly into my ear so I’ll hear. Patrick is introducing the next song. I give him a quick nod and allow myself to glance at his face. All I see is worry, no kind of attraction to me.
 
Maybe Jon was right, was he is just trying to fuck with Dallon. But wouldn’t this be the perfect place to get on Dallon’s nerves? Or was stage time too precious for that.
 
I shot him an icy stare by which he seemed surprised. Of course he would be. He was trying to be nice, helpful even, and I was being a bitch in return. He didn’t know what was going on in my head I didn’t know what was going on in his.
 
I just about storm off stage.
 
The next few times I am required to make contact with Ryan during the show, I keep a blank look in my eyes in response to his still concerned but also slightly superior expression.
 
The final time I step on stage and walk to Ryan’s side, I give him the same look and turn to walk off but he grabs my wrist and yanks me back. I turn towards him and he raises his eyebrows. The question is clear on his face.
 
‘What the fuck?’
 
I must have let some sadness drip into my eyes because suddenly his smile becomes sympathetic. I give him a weak smile and tug free of his grip. I walk to the side of the stage and grab a beer from the floor. Jon gives me a disapproving gaze but my eyes are locked at Ryan.
 
He cares. Sure he does. Jon’s just a sour arsehole. I don’t know what went on with them but obviously he’s just biased whenever Ryan’s involved. Maybe he’s just jealous. I don’t know.
 
But I feel slightly better because I don’t think Ryan is just using me, in fact I’m sure he cares at least a bit.
 
The band finishes up and gives a parting bow and wave before drifting offstage. They slink past the roadies, high fiving us as the support band had.
 
Sisky gives me an exhilarated smile, a slight gleam in his eyes despite the fact that he is drenched in sweat. It suits him. Spencer’s smile is a bit cold and he gives me a questioning look. Clearly he was more aware of what was going on between me and Ryan during the show than the others. I drop my eyes shyly, biting my lip. Patrick gives me an enthusiastic fist bump but I can see he’s completely exhausted as he quickly retires to the dressing room.
 
Ryan comes offstage next and keeps his eyes on me as he travels down the line. When he reaches me he gives me the same sympathetic smile and squeezes my hand slightly in the high 5. I smile back at him, watching him walk away.
 
Dallon approaches me next and squeezes my hand just like Ryan but he tightened his grip and pulled me into a rib-crushing hug. His shirt clung to him as sweat dripped from his hair. I made a protesting noise but Dallon just laughed, still too hyped up. His smile was breath-taking as he pulled back so I couldn’t help but launch myself at him and kiss his sweet little lips.
 
Dallon gives a final squeeze before skipping (seriously, skipping) off to the dressing room. I laughed a little adoringly before heading onstage to perform my roadie duties.
 
As I lug the heavy amps around and tuck guitars into cases I feel Jon watching me carefully, as though he’s scared I’m going to run off to Ryan is he takes his eyes off me.
 
I hear a crash of drums and I look up to see Sarah bashing away at the drums. She’s not half bad really. I laugh and the others join in. Sarah’s smile grows and she finished her small display with a crash to the cymbals and then stands and bows to our rowdy applause. I even wolf whistle a little bit.
 
My spirits are strangely high all of a sudden.
 
I hear footsteps approaching us from the side of the stage and I see Jon tense up a little bit.
 
‘You guys almost finished up?’ Comes Ryan’s familiar, husky voice. I turn towards him with a smile.
‘Almost, yeah.’ Zack replies, hauling another amp offstage.
‘Well we’re having the traditional post-first-tour-night party in my room at the hotel, so feel free to join us as soon as you’re done. Ziplok has to number.’ He says with a wide smile. ‘So you guys in?’
The others nod and mumble appreciatively in response. I’m about to tell Ryan that of course I shall attend this glorious event when Jon catches my eye. It’s written all over his face.
 
‘Don’t you fucking dare.’
 
And I wish I could go to the party just to piss him off, but in all honesty Jon scares me a little bit. It’s irrational to be scared of anybody who wears flip-flops, but he has this authoritative feel about him.
 
I end up declining the offer, mumbling something about still feeling tired from the previous night and hung my head. Ryan shrugged indifferently though I see something almost like disappointment in his eyes. It could just be wishful thinking of course.
 
The others finish up and follow after Ryan as he leaves. Jon shoots me one last glare in warning and I tuck the last guitar into its case. It’s Ryan’s. There’s a sticker plastered to the front.
 
‘WARNING: HANDLE WITH CARE’
 
Tell me about it.
 
- - -
 
Through the haze of sleep, I feel something heavy drop onto me and then roll off before cuddling up to my side. It’s warm and big and familiar.
 
I roll over and curl into Dallon’s arms, nuzzling his neck. ‘Where’ve you been?’ I mutter sleepily.
 
I knew he had been to the party because I was the only one who hadn’t gone. He’d told me he wouldn’t be back late but, though my mind was fuzzy, I could tell it must be about 4 am.
 
I was lucky it had been a hotel night for the first night really. Otherwise the post-first-tour-night party would have been held on the bus and I would have gotten no sleep in my bunk. Although that would have given me an excuse to go.
 
I am sharing a room with Dallon on every hotel night, of course. Separate beds though. Not that Dallon seems to want his tonight as he is squashed in mine all of a sudden.
 
I can smell alcohol on his steady breaths and I can tell by his unsteady movements that he’s taken something. It’s a party. What did I expect.
 
‘I-I pass… passed out at, at Ry’s. Ryan’s. Hm.’ He makes a pleased noise as I pull the duvet over him. He has somehow managed to peel his clothes off and he now lies next to me stark naked.
 
His hands reach down between us and tug at the waistband of my boxers. ‘Don’t need.’ Dallon says simply and begins pulling them off. I oblige by lifting my hips from the bed.
 
He chucks them carelessly onto the floor and cuddles closer to me, a hand settling on my hip and the other on my chest. I wrap my arms around him and press a kiss to his head.
 
‘Sleep.’ I mutter. And he does.
 
- - -
 
On the fourth day of tour William and Haley and Cassie all promised to come and visit, and so they do. They arrive at the venue, backstage passes hung around their necks. I embrace William in a tight hug; grateful he’s there. I can always think more clearly when he’s around.
 
I also give Haley a slight squeeze and aim a polite smile at Cassie. I’ve only met her once so it might feel intrusive for me to just grab her.
 
They hang around in the dressing room and become acquainted with the band. Jon’s seems to perk up and stop giving me awkward glares with Cassie around. I can finally smile and sit back, laughing with my best friend in the world and his beautiful girlfriend. I tell her this.
 
‘You,’ I say, pointing at Haley, ‘Are beau-ti-ful.’ And she smiles as an embarrassed blush creeps up her cheeks. William simply grins and exclaims that he knows before catching her lips with his.
 
The show goes smoothly, Ryan smiles at me and Jon leaves me be. I finally feel like things are going well.
 
But there’s one thing bugging me. And it’s Dallon. He seems off. He has seemed off since he came home drunk and high from the post-first-tour-night party. He’s not avoiding me as such. He just seems slightly nervous when he touches me. He seems careful when he kisses me.
 
We haven’t had sex on the tour yet because there hasn’t been another hotel night soon and I’, pretty sure the guys wouldn’t appreciate us having a go at bunk sex. But Dallon doesn’t seem to mind and so in turn, neither do I.
 
Dallon gives me a hug when we get of stage and we exchange a quick kiss before we part ways. I pack up with a satisfied smile on my face. William comes over to me to inform that he and the girls are heading back to the hotel with the band. Zack and Sarah leave with him while Jon and I finish up.
 
‘So, things okay with you and Dallon?’ Jon asks casually.
‘Yeah, great.’ I lie.
‘And you and Ryan…’ he drifts off.
‘Me and Ryan what?’ I say sharply.
‘There’s nothing… you know…’
‘No. There isn’t.’ He smiles in relief and I can’t help but return it because it’s a Jon Walker grin and there’s no way to resist those.
 
When we reach the hotel, Jon invites me up to his room for a beer. He’s sharing with Sarah and, for tonight, Cassie, before she leaves tomorrow.
 
He unlocks the door and glides into the room, stopping short as a confused look crosses his face. I step in beside him and let the door swing closed behind us as my expression mirrors his.
 
Cassie, Ryan, Patrick, Dallon, Gabe, Sarah and Haley are all sat in a circle in that order on the floor with cards clasped in the hands and a pile of poker chips in the centre. A few of them are missing items of clothing and my mind instantly latches onto what is going on.
 
‘Strip Poker.’ Spencer says from across the room where he sits, lazily spread across a sofa next to an uncomfortable looking Ziplok. He has a spliff between his lips and I doubt it’s his first.
 
‘You guys want in?’ Gabe asks with a flirtatious smile. He’s only missing one sock, I note thankfully. Ryan is still fully clothes but Dallon is shirtless. The girls are all mostly clad except the occasional absence of a pair of tights or stockings.
 
‘Pass.’ Jon says with a chuckle before walking over and dropping onto the couch beside Spencer and stealing the joint. I guess he does that to everyone.
 
‘Brenny boy?’ Gabe asks me. I eye him sceptically.
‘He doesn’t even know how to play poker.’ Dallon puts in and I shoot him an icy look. That was private information that did not need to be shared.
‘Don’t be a wuss, Urie.’ Ryan adds, sarcasm dripping in his tone. Gabe simply wiggles his eyebrows at me.
 
I sigh and drop into the space between Sarah and Haley, distancing myself from Ryan.
 
Patrick gives me a quick run through of the rules of poker despite Gabe’s claims that he’s ruining their fun. It worries me how ready he is to see me butt naked.
 
The game starts up and I don’t do as badly as I thought I would. Clothes are stripped all around me and are tossed into a pile along with my own. Surprisingly, it’s Ryan who is the least decent of us all, ending up in just one sock and a pair of boxers. A cigarette hangs loosely between his lips as he looks around the circle with a sly look.
 
‘Bullshit.’ Spencer suddenly calls from the couch. ‘Ryan, you’re losing on purpose.’ He says, aiming a pointed look at the man in question. Ryan doesn’t even fake innocence but instead aims a wink in Spencer’s direction.
 
‘You in, Bren?’ Gabe asks me, directing the conversation back to the game. He is the next most scantily clad with just a shirt and boxers on while Dallon has boxers and jeans on. The girls are mostly down to bras and skirts and Patrick is still almost completely clothed.
 
I, myself, am left with both boxers and jeans on but that soon changes when I lose yet another round.
 
‘Off, off off.’ Gabe chirps. I roll my eyes and push the jeans off, letting them fall onto the building pile. He smiles at this with a wicked look in his eyes.
 
I’ve noticed something during the game, but I’m not sure if it’s just my mind making things up.
 
Dallon has been watching Ryan.
 
Not just in a ‘trying to figure out your poker face’ kind of way, but in a proper ‘you are almost naked and I’m loving the view’ kind of way. And sure I could understand why. Ryan is beautiful. His skin is creamy and pale and you can see the outline of his ribs vaguely. His collarbone is evident and his boxers hang low on his hips, revealing a small trail of dark hair leading down.
 
There is a sudden shrill ring and Gabe jumps up as he ravages through the pile of clothes before he pulls out his jeans and from them, a phone. He glances at the screen and then looks up apologetically.
 
‘Gotta run guyssss.’ He says, starting to pull clothes on.
‘Booty call, Gabey Babey?’ Ryan says casually.
‘Of course hermano. Sorry for leaving you all with such a small taster,’ He replies with a wink before darting from the room.
 
At this point Ziplok gets up too and tells us he has work to be doing before leaving as well. I think he was just waiting for an excuse to escape.
 
We play a few more rounds until it comes to the point where Ryan is left just in boxers but loses another round. A smirk crosses his face.
 
‘Okay, guys, as much as I want to see Ryan’s cock, you guys have to get the fuck out.’ Jon says all of a sudden, trying to sound playful but I can hear the worry in there. I look up and find Jon looking straight at me.
 
Oh.
 
He’s trying to protect me from flailing at the sight of Ryan naked. Like seeing him would make me want to fuck him more than I already do. It would.
 
Wait? What no. No.
 
The players gather their clothes and start to sneak out once they are dressed.
 
Spencer’s eyes trail after Haley as she leaves, and they have done all night. Possessiveness builds up inside me. Haley isn’t mine, but she’s Will’s. He’s like a brother to me. I would never like anything happen to him like that.
 
I shoot a glare at Spencer’s back when he turns to leave as well.
 
Dallon, Ryan and I are the last to pad out into the hall. Dallon and I are now mostly dressed but Ryan remains in his boxers, clothes clasped in one hand, cigarette in the other. He waves us goodbye and glides down the hall away from us.
 
I watch the way his hips swing slightly and admire the small dents in his lower back.
 
Suddenly I’m pressed against the wall and Dallon’s body lines mine. He pressed his lips against mine passionately.
 
‘You. Me. Bed. Now.’ He says with a dark voice, dripping with lust.
 
We stumble down the hall, mouths locked together, and we somehow find our way into the bedroom. Dallon has me pressed against the bed and we’ve both stripped our clothes off once again. He’s hot against me and hot in my mouth.
 
We make love and my mind can only thing of one thing.
 
Ryan.
 
And I wonder who’s on Dallon’s mind because for the first time in over a year, I’m sure it isn’t me.


Next Chapter >

See I told you I'd get this up and now it is up so ENJOY MINIONS! Only 1 more chapter left until the end of Part 1. I'm considering taking a break before writing Part 2 but only to write a couple of shorter fics because I really want to write like a highschoolau or something. Hmmm. I hope you enjoy nonetheless. COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT MINIONS.


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Tags: indifference, r, ryden
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  • 3 comments
this was great <3
I can't wait for the next chapter!
something happened at the party.dallon cheat on brenny with ryan,right??

no please,don't hurt brenny bear, don't make him sad :(
omfg i wasnt expecting this at all!!! omfg the thing with dallon and ryan. something happened i know.

ryan you are jerk. and brendon is just loveable and i can never be mad at him.