nearlylauura (nearlylauura) wrote,

Imagine Knowing Me (4/4)

Part 4, NC-17, Ryan/Brendon + Additional Pairings

‘You know,’ Brendon says and stabs his shovel into the ground before leaning on it, wiping the sweat from his forehead along with his drenched bangs, ‘you could help instead of just. Sitting there.’

Ryan looks up at him with a grin. ‘Come on Bren, I’m totally helping out. I’m inspiring your digging by speaking words of wisdom.’

‘Let it be…’ Brendon mutters quietly and smiles softly at Ryan as he turns back to his notebook.

Roughly 45 minutes ago Ryan had spotted Brendon working on a flowerbed outside his window and so had decided to work on lyrics sitting on the steps instead of inside. He and Brendon had kept up a steady flow of friendly banter as they both worked, Brendon occasionally pausing to take in the way Ryan’s hair fell in tight curls over his golden eyes and Ryan pausing to look up at the sky.

‘What about something to do with honey dreams?’ Brendon throws out, attempting to provide some assistance in Ryan’s struggle for words.

‘No,’ Ryan chuckles, ‘it won’t fit.’ He glances up at Brendon as his hand moves over the page and Brendon huffs indignantly.

‘Well let’s see what you have already so I know what will fit.’ Brendon says and holds an expecting hand out.

Ryan hands him the notebook and Brendon’s eyes flick over the page before his brows furrow.

‘Liar.’ Brendon says and throws the notebook back at the now laughing boy. Ryan catches it, page open on the portrait of Brendon.

‘Writer’s block.’ Ryan explains, ‘drawing helps sometimes.’ He shrugs and closes the book before watching Brendon as he resumes his work. ‘Are you almost done?’

‘Pretty much.’ Brendon mutters. ‘Why?’

‘We could go get…’

‘Coffee, yeah, let’s go.’ And before Ryan can blink Brendon is throwing his tools to the side with a grin and dragging him towards the gate.

- - -

The small bell rings above the door as usual as they step through, laughing. Brendon bounds up to the counter but comes to a halt when he sees a familiar yet unfamiliar face behind it.

‘Hey,’ He says cautiously, tilting his head to the side, ‘is Shane not working?’

‘He’s in the back.’ Travis explains with a friendly grin. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘Something cold,’ Brendon replies instantly, ‘like, ice cold. And caffeine. Lots of that.’

‘No caffeine for him.’ Ryan adds as he walks up to the side of Brendon and answers his glare with a soft, fond smile.

‘Coming right up.’ Travis says and begins pouring various liquids into cups.


Brendon spins around and squeals before launching himself at Shane, wrapping the man in a warm hug.

‘Shane, man.’ Brendon says into his chest as Shane’s arms snake around him in return.

‘What’s up?’ He mutters.

‘Coffee.’ Brendon says motioning over his shoulder. Shane looks up and notices Ryan’s sharp gaze just before he turns his head away. Strange.

‘You are not allowed coffee in the afternoon.’ Shane says and Brendon sighs, burrowing further into the nice, soft band tee. It’s a band he’s never heard of but that’s why he loves Shane. He’s different and interesting and new.

‘Drinks up guys.’ Travis says and Brendon regretfully peels himself from Shane to grab his and Ryan’s cups. He instead latches onto Ryan’s arm and guides him over to a nice soft couch in the corner.

‘Later Shane.’ He calls over his shoulder and Shane chuckles.

- - -

‘B’ Gabe whisper-yells and Brendon kicks his shin in a way that’s supposed to say ‘shut the fuck up and leave me alone you hippie’.

‘B’ he repeats and Brendon kicks him harder as well as shooting him a sharp look.

Patrick is talking about business plans and what is most attractive to a client and considering Brendon’s own business planning has been on hold lately it’s important that he actually listens to this particular lecture or he’ll end up working in McDonalds like his best friend from high school was last time they spoke.

‘Is that Ryan?’ Gabe says suddenly and Brendon’s attention instantly flicks from his notes to shooting around the room.

‘Where?’ He squeaks.

‘Unbelievable.’ Gabe mutters amusedly and when Brendon glances his way he sees the little smirk playing around his mouth.

‘Fuck you.’ Brendon snarls and sinks lower into his seat, attempting to hide from his stupid, lying friend.

‘As I was trying to tell you,’ Gabe says, tapping his pen to Brendon’s thigh, ’Bill’s performing at Nightscape tonight.’

Brendon simply shakes his head so Gabe adds. ‘C’mon Bren. Why not?’

‘I’m still pretty wrecked from the last night there.’ Brendon mumbles with a sigh.

Gabe bites his lip and studies Brendon with squinted eyes for a moment. ‘You can bring Ryan.’

Brendon tenses but eventually nods. Gabe claims glory.

- - -

His feet slap against the concrete at merely half the pace of the thundering rain. He wraps his jacket tighter around his head in some attempt to save his hair, which is already mostly wrecked anyway. Brendon jogs up the path and wrenches Ryan’s door open whispering angrily to himself.

‘If you had a fucking phone I wouldn’t be so fucking soaked.’ He throws the jacket on the floor and shakes his hair out while hugging his arms around himself, relishing in the sudden heat of the warm house.

‘Ry?’ Brendon calls out but gets no reply so he moves further down the hallway, glancing into rooms as he goes. Hearing commotion from the living room, Brendon walks faster and smiles to himself before pushing open the door and freezing.

‘I fucking told you Ryan! If you don’t do it soon then-‘ Spencer yells and smacks his hands against the wooden coffee table.

‘It’s not going to happen Spencer! It doesn’t matter anyway, he won’t find-‘ Ryan replies sadly but with a glare as sharp as daggers.

‘Brendon.’ Spencer cuts him off before clearing his throat and straightening up. ‘Hey.’

Ryan spins on the spot and looks at Brendon’s worried expression with wide, guilty eyes. ‘Hey. Hi. What are you, um, what are you doing here?’

Brendon opens his mouth slowly and looks between them, both stood rigid and slightly turned away from one another. ‘I was just. Bill. He’s performing at nightscape tonight. You, um…’ He stutters out, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the icy tension in the room. He feels like the zoo bars between two angry lions right now.

Silence settles in the room as Brendon looks at Spencer, Spencer at Ryan and Ryan avoids everyone’s eyes by gazing out the window with a carefully blank expression.

‘Ryan.’ Spencer eventually sighs. ‘Just tell him.’

Ryan bites his lip and clears his throat, averting his gaze from the window only to turn it to the floor instead.

‘Brendon.’ He says softly and finally makes eye contact, ‘I’ve been keeping something from you because, well, I didn’t know how you’d take it but. I actually-‘

A sudden, shrill ring cuts Ryan off and Brendon fumbles in his pocket to shut it off but he glances at the screen.

‘Jon.’ He says apologetically, keeping eye contact with Ryan, before he answers. ‘Hey.’

‘Brendon.’ Jon says slowly, almost patronising. ‘I’m going to ask you a very simple question and I want you to either answer yes or no.’

‘Okay…’ Brendon responds warily.

‘Did you break Steve.’

Brendon’s eyes widen. ‘No.’ He replies after a moment.

‘Honesty would be appreciated.’ Jon groans.

‘It was totally an accident,’ Brendon hurries to say, ‘I told you not to leave him alone near me so technically it’s totally your fault and I’m so sorry forgive me forever I’ll pay for the repairs Jon please I love you dude-‘

‘Brendon it’s fine.’ Jon chuckles. ‘But you need to get home and help me deal with this before the apartment is set on fire.’

‘Oh. Shit. Yeah’. Brendon says and then hangs up. ‘I have to go. I’m sorry. Bill’s on at 9. See you.’ He shouts as he runs out of the room, grabs his jacket, and escapes through the front door.

- - -

‘Hey Bren, you still good?’ Shane calls from behind the counter where he’s crouched, restocking the cookie shelf.

Brendon hold up his half full hot chocolate mug and yells ‘yeah, thanks’ back without lifting his eyes from the budget he’s holding in front of him. His entire business plan is spread over the circular, orange table and he’s sorting through it, making adjustments and adding things in line with what Patrick had said.

The bell above the door rings but Brendon still refuses to shift his gaze. It’s hard enough to add up 27 different 3 digit numbers without breaking his focus every 5 minutes. He scribbles another number onto the bottom of the sheet and twirls the pen in his mouth while he checks everything over.

That’s when another body drops into the seat opposite him. Expecting it to be Pete (Ryan his mind screams) he mutters an absent minded ‘busy.’

However the newcomer grunts and replies, ‘not anymore.’ Before ripping the paper from his hands and slapping it down onto the table.

Brendon’s eyes widen in response to the unfamiliar voice and when he looks up he finds it’s the bartender from nightscape, Nate, that is leaning comfortably into the armchair opposite with a harsh smile and a cold glint in his eye.

‘Um.’ Brendon says and lowers his hands from the position they were in, thinking he still held the paper.

‘Stay away from Alex.’ Nate says shortly and Brendon’s eyebrows furrow because, um, he’s pretty sure he has been.

‘What?’ He replies anyway because obviously he wants to anger an enraged Nate even further.

‘I mean it.’ Nate says. ‘You’ve fucked him over enough already yeah. He’s too good to be pining over an asshole like you so do me a favour and stay. Away. From. Him. Yeah?’

Nate raises an eyebrow and Brendon can only mutter an ‘um’ before suddenly a strong hand is placed on his shoulder comfortingly, holding him steady, and Shane’s reassuring voice chimes in with ‘is there a problem here?’

Nate stands up, and Brendon absently notes that it didn’t make him much taller than when he was sitting, before shaking his head and saying ‘I was actually just leaving.’

He shoots Brendon one more punctuating glare before striding out of the coffee shop with sure steps.

‘Okay.’ Brendon says calmly before slumping back into his seat. ‘What the fuck?’ He squeaks and covers his face with his hands because he’s freaking out.

‘Hey Bren.’ Shane says and drops down to his knees, wrapping his arms securely around Brendon’s small, shuddering frame, ‘that guy’s just an asshole. He won’t touch you. Yeah?’

Brendon nods and clings to the cosy warmth of Shane’s shirt and thinks about how much softer Ryan’s shirts always are and how much nicer his skinny arms feel wrapped around Brendon, long fingers stroking down his spine and making him shiver.

Sensing his distress, Shane tightens his grip but Brendon thinks it only makes things worse.

- - -

The club is more packed than Brendon ever remembers it being. The bar is totally congested and the dance floor is full and he literally had to race this girl in a mini skirt to get his table. He secretly knows that he only run because she tripped over her stupidly high heels.

Jon is attempting to retrieve drinks before William’s set starts: they already went to say hello although Ryan is yet to turn up. Spencer, for a reason unknown to Brendon, isn’t coming. Jon had just shrugged and made a weird face that Brendon mocked for the next hour or so.

He hears Bill start his pre-show crowd love making on stage and smirks to himself, picking at his nails. Brendon glances back over at the bar and thinks that he isn’t getting a drink anytime soon.

Suddenly there’s a warm hand, long fingers wrapping around his arm, and Ryan’s smiling (gorgeous) face comes into view.

‘Hey.’ Ryan says loudly and Brendon grins in return. Wow. Ryan looks really good. Brendon bites his lip and looks away before he finds himself blurting unforgiveable things. Which would totally be hilarious to Jon and would be mocking material for months if he ever found out.

‘Took your time.’ Brendon shouts over the beginning of Bill’s first song and Ryan smiles wider if a little shyer.

‘Got caught up with writing. I changed some of the lyrics. They didn’t seem to fit.’ Ryan replies and Brendon nods to show he heard. The music is sort of too loud to make polite conversation right now.

Brendon glances over to the bar to check on how close Jon is to retrieving drinks in case Ryan wants anything but he’s startled to see Ryland looking straight at him, glare fixed in place. What the fuck?

Brendon’s eyebrows furrow and his brain screams at him to run for his life because that is a death stare right there. It sort of looks like Ryland is imagining driving a screwdriver through his eye which is impressive multitasking seen as he is simultaneously mixing up some fancy cocktail and come on, if people just ordered simple drinks the line would move much faster.

Ryan seems to catch where his gaze is directed and frowns in turn, placing a comforting hand on his hip, finger stroking slowly over the slip of bare skin there. ‘Just ignore them.’ Ryan says into his ear and wow, he’s closer than Brendon thought.

His eyes slip from Ryan’s face to another pair of eyes watching them from just a few feet away, slowly making their way over. The guy’s sort of hot. Short dark hair and he looks sort of muscly and maybe Brendon would consider him if he wasn’t stood next to the hottest guy on Earth already who, hello, is still grasping his hip.

Suddenly the guy is on Brendon’s other side, eyes trailed on where Ryan’s and Brendon’s bodies touch. He leans in closer to Brendon’s ear, keeping eye contact all the way. Brendon glances over to see Ryan staring straight ahead, apparently watching William on stage but his eyes are blank.

‘Shame you’re taken.’ The guy says and moves his eyes obviously back down to Ryan’s hand again which proceeds to slowly slide off Brendon’s hip, instead to be tucked into Ryan’s crossed arms.

‘Uh,’ Brendon swallows nervously. ‘We’re not. We’re not together.’ He says and bites his lip before he says something stupid like ‘yet’ or ‘I wish’ or ‘Ryan take me right here, right now’.

The guy lifts a disbelieving eyebrow and mutters, ‘sure looks like it,’ before heading over to the bar and joining the mass of bodies, swarming to claim a drink.

Brendon carefully keeps his gaze away from Ryan, worried about what he’d see there. Instead, he locates Jon being served and watches him exchange money for 2 glasses of beer. He heads back over, smiling when he notices Ryan’s arrival.

‘Glad you could join us!’ Jon says happily, placing the drinks on the table in front of them and giving Ryan a half hug. ‘Do you want a drink?’

Ryan shakes his head. ‘No I’m good.’ His hands flex into fists.

Brendon thinks that clearly he’s not.

- - -

He thinks the girl over by the stage in the sparkly purple dress is pretty and he wants to know Ryan’s opinion because Ryan is his favourite - favourite everything - so he leans over and says, ‘is she pretty Ryan? Prettier than me?’ before dissolving into a fit of laughter.

Ryan smiles in response but it’s shaky and worried and he’s eying Brendon carefully, watching out for any signs of incoming danger. Brendon thinks it’s sweet. How Ryan’s looking out for him. And – wow, that’s a lot of beer bottles on the table when did they all get there.

Jon had left to get closer to the stage roughly an hour ago but Ryan had stuck around, laughing along with Brendon and occasionally reaching out to smooth down one of Brendon’s stray hairs because he knows how OCD Brendon is about his precious locks of magnificent ebony.

If Brendon had a horse he’d call it magnificent ebony.

‘Buy me a horse Ryan. We could ride together into the sunset.’ He says and this time Ryan does laugh, even more so when Brendon starts hopping from foot to foot neighing.

And then he gets this brilliant idea, which is almost exactly the same as riding Magnificent Ebony because dancing is totally the same as riding. It’s like dancing on a dick and wow Brendon totally didn’t mean to think that but he did and now he can’t stop laughing and smiling and grabbing Ryan’s skinny, perfect, perfect, skinny arm and, ‘dance with me.’

Ryan looks shocked but happy as Brendon tugs him over to the dance floor, drinks abandoned on the table. Brendon grabs his hand and sways his hips in time to the music, dark eyes drunkenly peering into Ryan’s own laughter filled honey.

Brendon raises his other arm into the air and pushes himself closer to Ryan, feels long, delicate fingers curl comfortably around his waist as he sighs happily. He drops his head to Ryan’s shoulder and breathes him in. He smells like grass and nutmeg and rainbows.

Ryan chuckles, strokes over Brendon’s sides as hands press to his chest and he rests his chin atop Brendon’s head.

This is nice, Brendon thinks and feels Ryan’s warmth through his t-shirt. He feels strong and steady and there. Always there.

- - -

There’s a giant wooden club, decorated with nails or something pounding on his head. There must be. How else would Brendon explain how fucked his head is feeling right now. He rolls over onto his stomach and clutches his pillow tightly, groaning into the fabric.

Suddenly the bed dips beside him causing him to roll over onto his back and collide with something. When he cracks one eye open hesitantly, wincing against the sudden light, he sees Jon sat there with a wide grin plastered over his face.

‘Sympathy would be nice.’ Brendon mutters and closes his eyes again, snuggling further into his covers. Jon chuckles and lies down beside him, curling a warm arm around him and allowing Brendon to steal some of his comforting heat.

‘You were kind of smashed last night.’ Jon says and Brendon snorts because he thought that was sort of obvious.

‘I remember coming home to a cold, empty apartment and that is all.’ Brendon replies and then adds, ‘where the fuck were you Walker?’

‘I went round to Spencer’s.’ Jon says quietly and Brendon breathes out heavily.

‘It’s getting serious.’ Brendon states knowingly, burying his face into Jon’s arm.

‘It is.’ Jon answers and Brendon can hear the smile in his voice.

- - -

Condensation races down the brown glass, Brendon’s finger tracing it’s path as it pools at the bottom of the beer bottle and leaves a damp ring on the dark wooden table. Ryan had told him to use a coaster by throwing one at his head but the idea backfired and instead ended in a beer mat war, using sofas as barricades.

‘Concentrate Bren.’ Ryan murmurs, tapping his pen against the guitar perched on his lap. Brendon raises his head from his folded arms and stretches his neck out, noticing the way Ryan’s shirt shows just a thin strip of pale skin.

‘Just,’ Brendon mutters and furrows his eyebrows, turning his head away, denying himself the view, ‘throw some big words in there. Nobody will notice.’ It’s silent until Brendon peers up once again and finds Ryan staring at him disbelievingly with a raised eyebrow. Only a few moments later they both dissolve into laughter and end up sprawled over each other on the floor.

‘Thirsty.’ Ryan murmurs through smiling lips and rubs at his eyes. Brendon carefully rolls off him and tries to tell him to go get more beer but his mouth is smiling so hard it hurts to move it and his throat is raw from laughing.

Luckily Ryan seems to have read his mind as he climbs uneasily to his feet and stumble-crawls his way out into the hallway and then presumably into the kitchen where Brendon hears the sound of bottles clinking together.

Ryan returns, this time on his feet, with 4 more glorious beacons of hope clutched in his hands. He plops onto the floor next to Brendon cross-legged and rolls 2 bottles down Brendon’s stomach until they catch on his neck.

Brendon hums pleased and sits up himself before staring at the bottle confused. ‘How do I… do I open it.’ He asks and turns his wide eyes on Ryan who seems to be sharing the same difficulty.

Instead of finding a solution however, which Brendon would like him to do, Ryan simply snorts and tips his head back, laughing silently, which Brendon also kind of likes because his nose scrunches up in this really adorable way and his lips look all shiny.

A sleepy, wide grin stretches across Brendon’s face at the thought just as Ryan’s head rolls to the side so that he’s face on with Brendon again. They’re smiling at each other stupidly because neither has any idea what’s going on but it doesn’t really matter anymore either.

Brendon shuffles closer, his leg pressed against Ryan’s, and drops a soft kiss to Ryan’s shoulder and then they’re eye level again, still smiling deliriously.

‘Brendon,’ Ryan murmurs in that honey tone that perfectly matches his honey eyes in that they’re both deep and unexpected and you don’t know that they have you until it’s too late and they’re making your bones melt every time they find you. ‘Brendon, Brendon, Brendon.’

And Brendon, he can feel Ryan’s puffs of sweet air hit his mouth; honey breath to match his honey gaze and his honey voice. He thinks deliriously about how they’re kind of perfect together with his chocolate eyes and Ryan’s honey features. Both sweet and sickly and meant to be married and devoured and ravished.

Then those soft lips he’s found himself staring at so often are pressed to his own full lips, which instantly part, allowing entrance, almost begging for it as Ryan’s tongue slithers inside. The sharp tang of beer mixes with the distinctive taste of Ryan and it is exactly how Brendon always imagined.

He tilts his head, pushes forward wanting more as his hand comes to claw at Ryan’s cheek, the back of his head, pulling him closer. Ryan’s hands settle on his waist and it reminds him of when they were dancing, how soft and slow the touch was but now Ryan’s fingers are pressing into his hipbones, bruising almost and he can feel the difference in how Ryan clings to him.

Their lips slide together growing more eager to the point of being desperate as Ryan’s fingers slide under Brendon’s shirt, gliding along perfect skin and taking the shirt up with them. They break apart momentarily allowing Brendon to tug his shirt quickly over his head before bringing his lips back to Ryan’s, craving more.

Ryan’s hands dance along Brendon’s spine, drawing him in closer until their stomachs are pressed together and Brendon untangles his hands from his shirt and brings them back up to Ryan’s face, feeling along his cheekbones, gently caressing.

Their tongues entwine, lips and teeth licking and biting. Ryan’s hands drop down to glide along Brendon’s lower back, skimming the top of his jeans, before stroking up his spine once again, over his shoulders and up his arms before coming to clasp around his hands.

Ryan pulls away, panting heavily, and rests his forehead against Brendon’s as he laughs almost disbelievingly with eyes pressed closed. Brendon chews on his bottom lip, desperate to taste more as he eyes Ryan’s.

And then Ryan’s tugging at him, pulling him to his feet fluidly and pulling him out the door, down the hallway, carelessly tripping up the stairs barely halfway before pinning Brendon against the wall and tugging his leg up to wrap around Ryan’s waist.

Brendon’s hands settle on Ryan’s chest as Ryan licks and bites at his neck, drawing loud moans deep from Brendon’s throat in the otherwise quiet of the house. The wall is cold and solid as it scratches his back and it keeps him anchored, lets him know this is real.

Ryan bites down sharply just below his ear and he arches closer, accidently rubbing their clothed crotches together and Ryan just about purrs into his neck. Brendon’s hands slide up Ryan’s chest as Ryan’s lips glide along his cheek and they engage in one dirty, wet kiss before Brendon tips his head back against the wall, breathes out heavily.

Ryan brings one hand away from the wall and catches Brendon’s holding them together. Brendon stays completely still, licks his lips and says softly into the silence, ‘Ryan.’

Ryan guides him up the remaining stairs slowly; careful to keep them pressed close together, lips hovering over one another’s. He walks backwards down the hallway and pushes the door at the far end open using his hip, not taking any contact or attention from Brendon.

He carefully pushes Brendon inside using a hand on his hip and Brendon drops down onto the centre of the bed, soft blue sheets shifting underneath him as he sits up and folds his legs underneath himself. Ryan presses the door shut and turns to watch Brendon on the bed, eyes dark and dripping with want that Brendon mirrors with idle hands fidgeting against the blanket needing to touch, to reveal all the soft, pale skin, taste it.

Almost reading his mind, Ryan tucks his hands under his shirt and pulls it up, up and over his head, gently ruffling his dark curls, and allows it to fall to the floor. He sways over and falls onto the bed just in front of Brendon, never breaking eye contact.

They simultaneously lean forward, needing to feel, and Brendon’s fingers fit along the indents between Ryan’s ribs perfectly as Ryan’s hands settle onto the mattress either side of Brendon’s head, gently pushing him backward.

Brendon shifts, allowing Ryan to hover over him by resting his weight on one elbow and using his other hand to curl around the back of Ryan’s head, gently stroking the soft curls there as he beckons Ryan closer, pushes their lips closer and hotter and feels the first slide of Ryan’s bare chest against his own. He shivers and Ryan draws in a sharp intake of breath before pushing forward, kissing harder and needier and Brendon keens beneath him, making soft noises as he claws down Ryan’s back, trying to show him how much he wants this. How much he needs it.

Brendon lies flat on his back and Ryan pulls away as he lies over him, staring down at him. Brendon moves down, presses soft kisses to Ryan’s collarbone, chest, as his hands work open Ryan’s jeans button and then the zipper. He tugs and Ryan kicks them off before moving down to help Brendon with his own.

He’s just pulled down the fly before Brendon rolls them over, pins Ryan’s wrists down making him groan and buck upwards, desperate for some friction. Brendon only smirks slightly and shimmies his jeans off quickly.

Ryan chokes out a surprised laugh and says, smiling, ‘no underwear huh?’ Brendon chews on the inside of his cheek and grins down at Ryan, cheeks slightly reddened. He leans down, lips brushing over Ryan’s ear and whispers, ‘you like it,’ in pure seduction.

When he pulls back Ryan’s eyes are black and he’s biting his lip so hard he should be drawing blood.

Brendon runs a steady hand down his own chest and over his already throbbing cock to ground himself, releasing a small breathy moan, before dropping back down and mouthing at Ryan’s left nipple, biting carefully at the bud as it hardens and listening carefully to Ryan’s heavy breathing and hushed sounds.

His mouth leaves a trail of kisses and licks from one nipple to the other before trekking down over Ryan’s stomach, pausing to lick into his belly button and smiling at Ryan’s small squirm and ‘it tickles’ in a quiet laugh.

Ryan’s already hard which makes Brendon’s smirk widen.

He reaches down between Ryan’s legs and palms him carefully through his boxers, applying next to no pressure. At the soft exhale of air Ryan releases Brendon relents and slowly drags the cloth down Ryan’s legs and off while pressing biting kisses to his sharp hipbones.

Brendon ducks his head and licks a firm stripe from the base to the tip of Ryan’s dick, pulling back slightly to breath hot damp air over the head and successfully making Ryan squirm underneath the hands now pressed firmly against his hips.

Brendon looks up and locks eyes with Ryan. His usually honey irises are now dripping tar, making Brendon shift slightly under the heavy gaze. He keeps the contact as he ducks down, quickly engulfing half the length and sucking slightly until Ryan’s head drops back and breathes out, ‘fuck.’

He pulls off, hurrying to run his tongue along it again before mouthing at the base and then slowly over Ryan’s balls, all the meanwhile his fingers stroke carefully against Ryan’s hips. Ryan’s own hands fist the covers as Brendon ducks down and takes almost the entire cock into his mouth.

He sucks slowly, tongue flicking on occasion, as Ryan moans heavily beneath him. Eventually a hand clamps into his hair and he expects to be pushed further down but instead he is pulled off and up Ryan’s chest until they are face to face.

Brendon is dragged into a kiss, Ryan’s hands both burying in his hair as his own hands slide up the grip at Ryan’s waist. Instead of being put off by the taste of himself in Brendon’s mouth, Ryan licks in further causing Brendon to groan in response.

His back is suddenly pressed against the mattress and he was too wrapped up in the feel of Ryan’s mouth against his to notice being slowly rolled over so Ryan is now perched atop him. It’s a wonderful view.

Their lips hover over each other, watching. ‘Hi.’ Ryan whispers and nudges his nose against Brendon’s, grinning.

‘Hi.’ Brendon whispers back, biting his lip and trying not to smile too widely.

Their lips lock again and Brendon hears Ryan fumbling in the bedside cabinet. There’s the pop of a cap and Ryan breaks away from the kiss, Brendon’s lips chasing after him before he can stop himself. Ryan glances down but Brendon’s eyes remain trailed on his high cheekbones and the slight pink blush hovering there.

Ryan’s honey eye glance back up into Brendon’s simultaneously with a slick, soft finger sliding down over his balls and rubbing over his entrance. As it pushes in slightly, Brendon sighs heavily and allows his eyelids to drop closed momentarily, taking in how much he’s missed being touched like this.

It’s so much better with Ryan.

Soon one finger turns to two and then three but all the while their eyes stay locked, watching. Ryan crooks his fingers slightly, eyes narrowing in his search, and then wow.

Brendon’s eyes snap closed as his back arches off the bed and presses himself against Ryan’s slight sweat slicked chest, almost screaming. His nails scrape down Ryan’s back and he doesn’t even remember putting his hands there.

‘Yeah,’ Brendon gasps as Ryan’s fingers keep scratching his prostate over and over, ‘yeah fuck.’

Ryan’s lips lift into a crooked smile as he leans down to whisper into Brendon’s ear, ‘yeah?’

Brendon swallows heavily, eyes sliding open into slits and watching Ryan beside him. ‘Yeah.’ He whispers and strokes a hand through Ryan’s damp, dark hair, small flicks sticking to his forehead already. The action is tender amongst the desperation of the others but it doesn’t feel wrong or out of place.

Ryan’s fingers slip out of him and Brendon’s eyes slide shut as he breathes heavily. He hears a tear and a pop just to the side of him and then Ryan’s heat is above him once again, nose nuzzling against his jaw.

Brendon strokes over the arm that Ryan is resting on at the side of his head and kisses his wrist, right over the ink like he has dreamt of doing for so long. This is actually happening.

This is actually happening.

The thought barely registers before Ryan is pushing in and Brendon’s head is pushing back against the pillow, revelling in the slight burn because he knows it’s only going to get better from here on but fuck Ryan is bigger than he looks if that is even possible.

He can’t separate the groans both he and Ryan emit, hot air dancing between the proximity of their mouths.

Brendon can feel Ryan all over him, in him, around him and through a fuzzy mind he labels it as home. Where he’s supposed to be. But Ryan isn’t moving yet, clearly waiting for some sign from Brendon so he moves his hand from where it’s clenched in the sheets and strokes it over Ryan’s ass, up along the sharp bumps of his spine and into his hair while he presses another kiss to Ryan’s wrist before smiling and opening his eyes, peering at Ryan.

Ryan leans down and presses one soft kiss to Brendon’s mouth as he slowly moves one of Brendon’s legs to wrap around his waist, getting more comfortable.

He slowly drags out and then snaps his hips forward again, gasping against Brendon’s neck. He laughs almost disbelievingly as Brendon whines above him, needing more. ‘You’re so tight.’ He whispers but it sounds almost like he wants to say something else.

Ryan starts up a steady rhythm, working both his hips and his mouth against Brendon’s, who keeps up with small thrusts of his own, bringing Ryan in deeper. He sighs quietly pecking Ryan’s lips. They’re both breathing heavily as Brendon brings his hand back across Ryan’s spine. He grasps Ryan’s ass and squeezes slightly, just feeling, but it makes Ryan groan and shift back into the touch, changing the angle.

Brendon arches up again, moaning loudly, and pushes his mouth against Ryan’s again but not missing the small mischievous sparkle in his eye. As Ryan’s hips speed up, pounding his cock harder and faster into Brendon, Brendon’s hand tightens on Ryan’s ass and their tongues work more frantically together.

The noises Brendon makes turn from moans and groans into a stream of curses, all muffled by Ryan’s mouth. Ryan’s own noises turn more frantic, occasionally gasping a quite ‘Bren’.

His hand slides up Brendon’s side, runs over his shoulder, his collarbones and back down before closing around Brendon’s cock, bringing a whole new type of pleasure and, fuck, it’s never been like this before. He’s never needed it this much, never felt like this.

All too soon he feels the familiar coil of heat in his stomach and he desperately tries to push it away but with Ryan’s forehead resting against his own now, watching, eyes connected, it only keeps building and building.

He tries to choke out a warning but it comes out as more of a mess of expletives and stutters yet Ryan seems to understand, going even harder and deeper, pressing his lips to Brendon’s cheek as he moans loudly.

And then he feels it, all the pleasure exploding inside his body his a gasped ‘Ryan’ but instead of his limbs tensing and stretching out like usual, he only curls closer to Ryan, wraps his limbs around him and presses a moan to his wet neck as his body shakes, white dripping over Ryan’s knuckles and splattering over both their stomachs.

Brendon barely feels Ryan spilling into the condom inside him, barely hears the ‘fuck Bren, fuck, fuck’ though it’s breathed into his ear. What he does notice is the way Ryan’s body shakes with his and the way his honey eyes stay locked with Brendon’s.

He touches their lips together softly, letting them work together, tasting and testing. Ryan’s hand comes up to cup Brendon’s face as he breathes heavily, thumb stroking over his cheek. He carefully pulls out, sitting up momentarily to tug the condom off, tie it and throw it into the bin with surprisingly good aim.

Then he’s lying right next to Brendon again, wrapping an arm tightly around his waist and pulling until Brendon is curled against his chest, hands resting against Ryan’s neck while their breath mixes, legs tangle.

All Brendon remembers before falling asleep is Ryan’s soft smile and how his eyes looked golden, how his skin felt golden against Brendon’s own.

- - -

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Brendon sighs. Bathes in the warmth and snuggles closer. He nuzzles the skin in front of him and inhales slowly. It’s familiar and comforting so he tightens his hold.

His mind, fuzzy, awakens slowly and runs through the events of the night previous. The gold behind his eyelids slowly starts to fade, along with his smile, and his arms loosen around Ryan. He chews on his lip, refusing his eyes permission to open and confirm what he fears.

He presses a hazy, soft kiss to Ryan’s back and then another to his shoulder before he rolls over and away, dropping his legs over the side of the bed and sitting, head buried in his hands.

He fucked up.

Ryan doesn’t want him. Ryan was drunk and horny and Brendon let it happen. Let his feelings take over even though he knows that as soon as Ryan awakens that small peaceful smile on his face will be gone and Brendon, along with his feelings, will be crushed.

He friendship with Ryan is over now. He knows that. The best he can do is leave Ryan to rest in oblivion. Allow Ryan to walk out of his life to same way he walked in: silently.

Brendon picks himself up off the bed, his clothes from their strewn locations around the house, his heart from the floor and leaves with his mind still intact.

Even if everything else is broken.

- - -

His feet hammer against the pavement in rhythm with the rain.

He nears the familiar green building, hurries inside and hears the soft click of the door shutting behind him as he shakes his hair out.

‘Not in here Urie!’ Shane calls out from behind the till so Brendon strides over and shakes it in his face instead. ‘Fucker!’ Shane laughs as he ducks down under the counter.

‘I need coffee Valdes.’ Brendon says rubbing his hands together with a small smile.

‘I don’t know.’ Is the reply he gets, to which he frowns. ‘Strict orders from Jon man.’

Brendon sighs. For the last week Jon’s been on his back about everything. He knows it because Jon’s upset that Brendon won’t talk to him about why he’s been acting differently for the past week. He doesn’t want to affect Jon and Spencer’s relationship with his own stupid problems.

He wonders if Spencer knows.

‘It’s cool.’ Brendon says but Shane takes a long look at him and starts putting together an extra special Brendon Urie style hot chocolate, something Shane had come up with after Brendon demanded a drink be named after him for his dedication to him.

‘On the house.’ Shane says with a sad smile as he slides it over the counter. Obviously Brendon isn’t hiding it well enough.

‘Thanks.’ Brendon replies and then he’s out the door and into the rain once again.

Halfway home Brendon hears somebody calling out his name. His footsteps pause and he raises his head, glancing around.

‘Brendon!’ He hears again and he swivels around. Spencer jogs over to him, feet smacking against the concrete.

‘Spencer…’ Brendon replies as the man comes to a stop in front of him, both getting drenched in the water still pouring down from the sky.

‘I just wanted to remind you that it’s the SAS official opening on Friday. I know you finished all your hours so you don’t technically have to come but it-‘

‘Ill be there Spencer.’ Brendon cuts him off with a small smile.

‘Good. Awesome. Yeah.’ Spencer laughs, obviously relieved for some reason. ‘Um. You should know that.’ He clears his throat.


‘Ryan is performing for the opening.’ Spencer rushes out and watched Brendon with wide eyes.

The rain pounds against the ground harder and in the distance a car’s horn blares, pedestrians hurrying across the street with umbrellas shielding them.

‘So you know.’ Brendon says calmly. Of course Ryan told Spencer. Why wouldn’t he? It meant nothing to him. Just a fling.

Spencer nods cautiously. ‘You should talk to him.’ And then before Brendon has the chance to reply he’s off down the street, fighting against the rain.

- - -

A timid knock rouses Brendon from his nap. He rolls onto his back and wipes a weary hand over his face, sighing. He pulls the covers up, ensuring they cover his crotch, and calls out ‘yeah?’

The door creaks open and Jon’s face peeks around the edge, watching Brendon carefully. ‘Can I come in?’ He asks and bites his lip. He’s hesitant and it makes Brendon feel bad, they used to be able to talk about anything.

‘Sure.’ Brendon says with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Regardless, Jon nods and steps inside, shuffles over to the bed and sits next to Brendon, back pressed against the headboard and head tipped towards the ceiling. It’s the same way Ryan was sat before they kissed but he soon pushes that thought away.

Brendon breathes slowly into the silence and watches Jon’s blank face.

‘Are you okay?’ Jon enquires eventually, genuine concern in all his features. Brendon just clears his throat and stares at the covers. Is he?

‘No.’ He murmurs eventually and then he feels Jon’s arms embrace him, strong and sure, just how like he missed so desperately. He clings back like Jon is his lifeline and wishes he could have fallen in love with Jon instead, things would be so much simpler. But he couldn’t do that to Spencer.

The next thing Brendon knows they are curled up in bed together, Jon still holding him securely to him while he breathes deeply. He smiles sadly against Jon’s chest and sings quietly to himself, Jon joining in after a few lines.

‘I slept with him.’ Brendon breathes into the quiet, still air after their voices had faded away. The breeze blows steadily in through the propped open bedroom and rustles the papers on the desk and the steady light from the moon shines onto their covered bodies, Jon’s arms still securely embracing Brendon like they always will. Supporting him because that’s what best friends do.

‘Okay.’ Jon whispers and they sleep.

- - -

The gardens look great. So it’s in celebration as they crack open a bottle of champagne, William cradled in an already drunk Gabe’s arms, Frank and Gerard discreetly holding hands behind their backs with huge smiles, Joe spraying the foam over Mikey and Sisky as Pete and even Patrick laugh along in the background.

Brendon watches the scene in front of him with a soft smile and notices Greta doing the same from the rose garden. He waves and she raises a pretend champagne glass in recognition.

‘Alright little buddy?’ Jon says, swinging an arm over his shoulders.

‘Yeah.’ Brendon says and he is. He has everything planned out. ‘Where’s Spencer?’

‘Helping Ryan set up.’ Jon replies and Brendon nods. He’s ready for this. He knows he is. ‘You ready?’

‘I hope so. I only get one shot at this you know.’ He laughs nervously, trying to thin of anything but the fact that in only an hour he’d be declaring his undying love for a man he has been avoiding for a week after a one-night stand.

Jon eyes him worriedly but before he can offer any comfort Ryan’s voice carries over the microphone.

‘Hey. So um. I’m Ryan. I own this place,’ he says with a shy smile, ‘these guys have been working on Scientiam A Sapientibus for the last month or so and they’ve done a really amazing job. I haven’t had the chance to get to know them all personally but from what I’ve seen they’re all awesome guys. They don’t give up, even when the Atlantic Ocean is pouring from the sky. And it means a lot to me what they’ve done here, not just for me but for everyone. So thanks.’ He smiles again, awkwardly and modestly this time in response to the quiet applause and Brendon is reminded of what he loves about this idiot.

Spencer jogs up the steps onto the patio being used as a stage and hands Ryan his guitar, receiving a quick half hug and whispering encouraging words before disappearing again.

Ryan breathes out slowly and audibly into the microphone and starts to play.

Brendon feels his heart stop and his eyes become glued to Ryan’s hunched form.

Everybody listens.

- - -

As soon as the show finishes, Brendon pounces (with some encouragement from Jon in the form of shoving him in the right direction). He stumbles over and grabs Ryan’s arms after noticing the way he immediately tensed when approached.

‘Can we talk? Great.’ Brendon says, swallowing heavily, and drags a clearly reluctant Ryan over to a more private location amongst the trees. He releases his hold and turns to look him in the face, taking in the face he learnt do well in the past month and missed so much in the last week.

Seeing Ryan play had shown him in a completely different light. He’d always been quiet and contemplative but performing in front of all those people had made him look vulnerable in a way that Brendon never would have expected. The way he played like he was sharing his darkest secrets, his heart, his entire being with everyone present made Brendon question why he chose to hide behind a persona, why he didn’t do live shows when he was clearly born for the stage.

Brendon swallows heavily, eyes sweeping over Ryan’s tousled, dark hair, over his slightly parted lips before locking onto the honey eyes and there he is again. Falling even further just from one glance.

He breathes.

‘I’m leaving.’

What? That wasn’t what Brendon meant to say? But then he realises it wasn’t him that spoke: it was Ryan. And his distorted view sinks away and he sees properly the way Ryan’s usually vibrant caramel eyes are dull, lifeless. The way his shoulder are hunched and his skin is paler than ever and the way his hands shake as they come up to brush hair from his face. Brendon’s eyes avert, instead looking to the side where his friends remain oblivious, happy.

Upon Brendon’s silence Ryan elaborates, in that perfect monotone Brendon is so familiar with, ‘To New York. For recording the new album. I don’t know if I’ll be back.’

But all Brendon hears is a faint buzz, eyes still locked with Ryan’s, his heart jumping at the way he said if, not when. If. Like Ryan wouldn’t return. As if he’d leave Brendon broken and bruised and alone.

Maybe exactly how Brendon left him that morning. Waking up to an empty bed, no note, nothing, nothing to reassure him the night before was real. And then a week of silence. Like that little bubble of happiness they created wasn’t real. Like everything could be taken away, lost, that easily. Like it was temporary.

When Brendon looks back Ryan is gone.

Like he was temporary too.
Tags: imagine knowing me, nc-17, ryden, rydon
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