nearlylauura (nearlylauura) wrote,

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Indifference To His Touch (Part 1//Chapter 5)

Rating: R (language and drugs)
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan, Brendon/Dallon
POV: 1st, Brendon’s
Word count: 4255
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: Not based on real events.

Chapter 5
‘Bren, I want you to come on tour with me.’
I cough out the small sip of beer I just took and stare wide-eyed at Dallon. ‘What?’
‘I want you to come on tour.’ He replies, calmly.
For the last few days I have slowly been coming to terms with the fact that I won’t be seeing Dallon for the next 3 months. I knew he was going to tour and I knew that I would suffer because of it but I had been preparing.
A tiny part of me was slightly relived he was leaving for a while. If Dallon was going on tour with the band, then the rest of his band wouldn’t be around. Namely one character that I have been doing very well avoiding.
‘I don’t think that’s up to you,’ I chuckle, trying to peer round his legs at the TV he is conveniently blocking.
‘Bren.’ He says with a sigh before reaching behind himself and turning my distraction off. The screen flickers before going black and I avert my attention to Dallon’s careful stance.
I’d been watching ‘Friends’ reruns for most of the day, enjoying my alone time as Dallon was out with the guys, auditioning opening acts. I’m still cuddled up on the sofa, a pile of magazines strewn out beside me and a small collection of beer bottles gathered on the floor. Maybe one ice cream tub, but just the one.
Dallon steps towards me, scrapes the bottles to the side of the couch with his foot before dropping to his knees in front of me.
‘I don’t want to leave you for 3 months. Hell, I’ll go crazy without you. I’ve spoken to Ziplok and he says they can get you a place as a roadie. They always need helping hands, Bren, so it’s just like a job change. We get to be together and we’re still making money and you’ll have something to do and please, Bren. Please. I need you around. I can’t do it without you.’
I understand what he means. For the year Dallon and I have been dating, we have never spent more than a week apart. It’s unthinkable to be apart for any longer. I know our relationship could withstand it, but would I still be whole when he came back?
Dallon’s studying my face intently, trying to figure out my answer before it slips through my lips. My brow has furrowed and I’m looking at the floor, not at him. I breathe out a heavy sigh before lifting my eyes to meet his. ‘Sign me up.’ I say, breaking into a lop-sided smile.
Dallon lunges forward and squeezes me into a tight, warm and loving embrace filled with hope and it distracts me from reality for a minute. This is love, I know it is, and it’ll all be worth it.
- - -
Of course there was one aspect of tour I had forgotten all about and it was now sitting barely a metre away, on the same couch as me.
I’ve been trying to best to keep out of Ryan’s way, which, admittedly, hasn’t been that hard since I wasn’t required to spend time with the band. Until now. The tour had been a good excuse for me to get a little me time to think over the incident.
4 days ago Ryan had sprung a surprise kiss on me and I should have been all for pushing him off because I am in a dedicated relationship and I am not a slut. But my lips decided to do the thinking for me and so I ended up willingly attached to his mouth while his hands wound round my waist, my own in his loose curls.
It had been a good kiss. A fucking good kiss. And I’ve thought about it every day since. I’m ashamed to say that on some occasions I’ve even compared it to the ones Dallon and I share daily, wondering if Dallon could nibble my lip carefully like Ryan did. If his hands could be as brave but as soft, not at all hesitant, around me as Ryan’s had. If his eyes could sparkle like Ryan’s could.
It’s wrong and I know it. Dallon and Ryan are 2 completely different people and I have no right to do that to them, but I still do. Dallon doesn’t know of course, about the kiss. It was meaningless. Why would I tell him?
All of the above is why currently, the tension is thick as lead. But I’m the only one who seems to be feeling it.
Spencer has his back to me, across the room, with earphones firmly plugged in. He’s air drumming to some heavy rock song I’ve never heard. The music is only audible because the room is otherwise silent, except for the occasional flick of nail on paper as I turn the pages of the book I’m barely reading.
Ryan is sat adjacent to me, staring blankly through the glass wall. He isn’t looking for the view, he just needs somewhere to look absently and that is where his eyes naturally fell.
I can’t help but glance down at his slightly pouted lips, remembering the soft feel of them tugging at my own.
Dallon had told me I had to come to a set up practice to learn how things would be arranged onstage. I’d felt uneasy about it, especially since Dallon had to go out earlier on to sign some final papers and so had told me he would meet me here at 7.
It’s now 8:30 and still no sign of him.
Ryan and Spencer had dawdled through the door at roughly quarter to 8, seemingly surprised to see just me sat here. They had asked me where the others were and I had shrugged appropriately before Ryan plopped onto the couch next to me.
We had concluded they were just late.
Really late.
Ryan hadn’t looked uncomfortable at all, unlike me. I had fidgeted as soon as I first saw him and have since been avoiding eye contact. He doesn’t seem bothered.
I know that they had all been around when Dallon had first asked Ziplok about me coming on tour, so it made sense that he wasn’t surprised to see me.
However I can’t help but feel curious as to what he thought when he found out I’d be coming along. I mean, you can’t kiss somebody like he did and then not think about them some afterwards. No normal person anyway. But I get the feeling that Ryan is far from normal.
His dress sense, for example. Spencer and I are wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans combo, while Ryan is in very tight, skinny trousers and a formal grey blazer. I sense a hint of eyeliner around his wide eyes and he has a bandana tied along his hairline. It’s mismatched but it suits him well.
‘Are you still reading that?’ Ryan says suddenly, not turning his focus from the glass. I give him a confused look.
‘Shakespeare, Urie. You were reading that same book at that coffee joint and that was, what, like a month ago.’ He replies, turning towards me and raising an eyebrow. I feel my face jolt into shock; I thought he’d forget an unimportant detail like that.
Truth be told, I was so lost in my examination of Ryan that I’d forgotten I’d even been reading at all.
Ryan gives me an amused smile, waiting for my amazing comeback. ‘I-I’ve just been… busy… like, yeah.’ His smile grows at my clearly thoughtless words.
‘I can tell you’re not a poet.’ His smile turns more genuine and it’s heat warming. ‘Of any sorts.’ He adds.
‘No,’ I say smiling in return. ‘Just a brain dead hairdresser, or, well, a brain dead roadie now I guess.’ My smile falters.
Suddenly Spencer is whispering a cheer in the background in response to the end of what was probably an epic song. We both turn to look his way and I see an adoring smile creep onto Ryan’s face. Jealousy pounds at me.
‘It’s nice that he asked you.’ Ryan says out of the blue, making me jump. He turns back around to look at me, to gage my reaction even. ‘Most of us leave our other halves behind. Tour rules, you know.’
I raise my eyebrow now. No, I don’t know. ‘Tour rules?’ I ask with a questioning tone.
‘Whatever happens on tour stays on tour. That means drugs, drinks and fucks. It’s a tour. Everybody fucks around, Brendon.’ He replies calmly, watching me still.
It’s clear what he’s saying. Even if I am there with Dallon, it’s going to be heard for him to stay away from temptation. When you’re in a band there are so many pretty boys (and girls) lining up just for a piece of your ass.
But it’s not meant to hurt me. It’s a warning. But there’s a hint of something else.
‘Tour rules apply to everyone. Crew too.’
Ryan doesn’t have the chance to anger me further as the door slams open and a team of sodden band members step through, followed by Ziplok, Jon, Sarah and a massive guy I’ve never seen before.
Patrick and Sisky stomp over to the instruments and I shoot them a worrying glance. Dallon appears beside me and is about to pull me into a hug when I jump up from the couch and step away. He frowns.
‘You’re wet.’ I explain.
‘I know.’ He sighs, ‘It is fucking pelting it down outside. The whole of New York seemed to have dashed for taxis simultaneously.’
‘Ah, so that’s why you’re so late.’ Spencer says, pulling the buds from his ears. ‘Let’s get started, shall we?’
The guys jump into motion and begin heaving boxes around in preparation. I glide over to Ziplok and ask him what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. He gives me a run through of my job (I’m in charge of heaving Sisky’s guitars around and Patrick’s stuff as well as being the one that handles the guitar changes during the show) and he points me to the boxes I’ll be in charge of. None of them are too intimidating, all fairly small and light.
I look over and see Sarah fiddling around with Spencer’s drums while he watches on, so she must be in charge of that, and Jon is carrying guitar cases over to Dallon and Ryan. The big guy, who I have been informed goes by Zack, is tugging the amps around. It makes sense seen as his muscles probably weigh more than the other 3 of us put together.
The practise starts up. The band plays 1 minute of each song to shorten down the session and we do our roadie duties like we will on tour. The music is loud and I’m finding it hard to concentrate. Ziplok has written me a list of everything that will be happening and I’ve highlighted everywhere that says my name. I keep track of everything that’s going on, checking off on my list.
After the third song I am due on to switch Ryan’s guitar out. I grab the one he needs from the case behind Jon and wait behind an invisible curtain, which won’t be present until we reach the actual venues. When the minute is up I stride over as Ryan slips the strap of his current instrument from around his neck.
Taking his, I place the new guitar into his waiting hand before turning back and walking away, purposely avoiding eye contact. I’m still pissed at him for suggesting I’d even think about sleeping around.
And it’s just as I’m thinking about how not attracted to him I am that I feel something clench my arse cheek and apply just a little pressure. I jump out of my skin almost but only glance over my shoulder before scurrying to the side of the room.
He just grabbed by butt.
And Dallon was stood right there. Right fucking there.
His face was fucking smug in a way that if you hadn’t seen what had just occurred, you wouldn’t have guessed anything had happened at all.
And by the looks of it, most people hadn’t. Most, that is.
Sarah is looking at me with wide eyes. I feel heat creep to my cheeks. Spencer is stifling a laugh. My cheeks get hotter. Zack has raised a questioning eyebrow. I must be bright red. I look up. Jon is giving me a disgusted look.
All blood drains from my face.
Thankfully, Dallon is stood roughly level with Ryan on the set and so he remains oblivious.
I watch through the next few songs silently, keeping my eyes focused on Patrick or the list or the floor or anything except Ryan. I can still see Jon glaring at me from the corner of my eye.
Ryan is just playing with me. I know he is.
When I next have to hand Ryan a guitar, I keep my eyes fixed on the floor in front of me. I hurriedly turn to walk away after the switch but a hand grabs by wrist and pulls me back.
‘Hey,’ he mutters with a soft voice and an expression to match.
I clear my throat and snatch my wrist back.
‘Have some humour Bren.’ He says before I storm back. I don’t look up to see the disapproving glares from my fellow crew members this time, I look up to Dallon who is frozen, eyes locked on me with confusion swirling in his eyes.
Ryan is looking at him too, with an amused smirk on his face.
- - -
The session passes with much more of the same. Ryan keeps making passes at me but Dallon no longer remains oblivious. With every touch he seems to tense up even more.
At one point I swirl back around to Ryan and hiss at him, ‘What the fuck do you think you are doing?’ but he just chuckles to himself. I’m left seething.
When everything is finished up, we begin to clear the stuff away similar to how we will be doing every night pretty soon. Ryan heads out for a cigarette, purposefully walking past me and brushing his fingers down my thigh on his way out. I see Dallon’s eyes narrow as he goes over to talk to Ziplok.
I busy myself with putting things back into the correct cases as quickly as possible but the other are more experienced than me and so finish in half the time. I’m slotting Sisky’s prize guitar into its case when I hear Patrick speak up behind me.
‘Hey guys, we should all go out to dinner. You know, some band roadie bonding time seen as we have to stand each others company for 3 months.’ A few of the guys chuckle but everyone agrees.
Dallon offers to wait up for me but I tell him I’ll probably be about another 30 minutes so he should go ahead and I’ll catch up in a bit. He tells me he’ll text me where they end up and I nod, hugging him quickly and pecking him on the lips.
He smiles down at me before scooping me back into his arms and pulling me up for a proper kiss. His tongue is nowhere near hesitant as it swirls around mine but I’m equally eager. I wind my hands into his long, dark hair, forgetting we have company.
He pulls back, a grin clear in his eyes, and waves goodbye as he exits through the door. I sigh and continue packing the stuff up.
I’d forgotten the fact that Ryan hadn’t left with the others as he was on a cigarette break so I jump when I hear footsteps behind me.
‘Where’d everyone go?’ Ryan asks with an emotionless voice, clearly not bothered by being left alone.
‘Out for dinner. I don’t know where. You should probably go catch them up.’ I say dismissively and turn back to packing up.
The room is silent for a moment before I hear footsteps again but they are not heading towards the door. They are coming straight for me.
I turn around and shock crosses my features as Ryan appears in front of me. His hand slides around the back of my neck, pulling me towards him. I don’t even try to stop him.
My lips crash against his and his tongue is instantly pressing against the split. I open my mouth with hesitance, which he doesn’t return. His tongue delves in licks into my mouth. I’m left breathless.
The other kiss was good, but this one is filled with passion and lust and need. It’s like he returns all the feelings I have for him in that moment. I take it willingly.
My arms wind around him, tugging him closer, and I moan quietly into his mouth. This seems to fire him up more as he tugs more urgently on my lips, sucking and pulling. It’s wet and hot.
Our lips move seamlessly together and his other hand starts stroking up and down my spine. I shiver and he moves it to cup my chin, softening the kiss momentarily.
I can feel his skinny figure beneath my fingertips and I need contact with his flesh. Without thinking, I tug the hem of his shirt up and slide my fingers onto his chest, running along his cool perfect skin. I can feel his ribs and it turns me on to no end.
I didn’t know I liked skinny. I’ve never met anyone as skinny as Ryan.
Suddenly his hips roll against mine and I groan loudly and involuntarily. I feel him smirk against my lips before he hardens the kiss once again, fucking into my mouth with his tongue and his hands moves down between us and rubs against my crotch. My dick is hard. Really heard.
But it’s too much.
‘Stop.’ I mutter against his mouth, willing myself to push him backwards.
He steps away slightly, keeping his hand in place.
‘Hm?’ He mumbles, pushing his palm into me. My hips buck upwards in response.
‘You have to stop.’ I tell him bluntly with a weak voice that he sees straight through.
‘That’s not want you want though is it?’ He says, stepping back towards me and pressing his mouth against mine. His hand starts rubbing again.
‘Please.’ I whisper, holding onto the last string of restraint I have though I’m not sure what I’m asking.
‘You want me to stop?’ he asks in defiance, his hand grinding harder. ‘Do you?’ His tone is forceful but playful all at once.
My brain stops working for a minute and I can’t take it.
I shake my head.
His lips are at my ear, nibbling at my lobe. ‘Say it.’ He mutters.
‘N-no.’ I stutter out. He smiles against my ear and then moves back to my mouth, delving in deeper.
His hand move away from my now rock hard cock and cups my ass, drawing me in. I groan in protest at the loss of friction. But then…
His hips rub against mine again and I find myself rubbing back, chasing that feeling of total pleasure. I’m even harder, but so is he. Fuck.
We build up a steady rhythm, our groans evening out. I love the sounds he makes; the disbelieving grunts and the low groans. It’s all so much.
A small whine escapes my throat as he grinds against me harder than before and he freezes. His lips separate from mine and he looks me straight in the eye and I’m worried as to what he sees.
His hand strokes through my hair once before he leans over to my ear. ‘You’ll have to finish off yourself.’ He says quietly.
He spins around and walks out of the room but not before I see how black his eyes are, how swollen his lips are, how crazed he looks.
And I do as he says. I finish myself off. And he’s on my mind every step of the way.
- - -
It’s 2.30 am and my eyelids are drooping but the music thumping in the background keeps me awake. I fight through the crowds of people gathered in the living room and roam the hallways, looking for a quiet place to just sit and maybe smoke up a bit. I’ve been twiddling the joint between my fingers for the last half hour.
I finally find an almost deserted room and settle myself on a sofa. I light up the spliff and draw it to my lips, puffing out a cloud of smoke and smiling to myself.
It was Sisky’s idea to have a Pre-Tour party. Tomorrow, well today, the tour kicks off in our first destination. I don’t know where the hell it is because I haven’t checked the tour dates yet. I don’t see the point seen as though I’m not expected to drive the tour bus until the second week. I can catch up then.
Of course, Ryan’s house was volunteered as the best venue. Well, It’s not really Ryan’s house as such, Patrick explained, but he owns it. He doesn’t live here, he has an apartment in Soho, and he just keeps the place for the sake of it. It seems like a pretty good investment tonight.
Dallon couldn’t make it as he’d promised to meet up with his sister tonight. They are really close and usually see each other at least once a week but they’ll be apart for almost 3 months so I can understand why they’re trying to spend time with each other while they still can.
I haven’t seen Ryan either. Which could be seen as a good thing as I jerked off to the memory of him a few hours ago, but I really miss him. I don’t know the guy at all, but I miss him.
What I mean is that I miss his lips. And his hips. And his ribs. And his dick. Fuck. I miss all of him.
‘Bren, hey!’ I turn my head to the familiar voice of Jon Walker as he flops onto the couch opposite me. I give him a blissed out smile and go back to smoking.
‘Give me some of that shit dude.’ He says, grabbing the joint from me. I frown but allow him to take it, puffing out smoke.
‘Having fun?’ I ask him, letting my eyelids flutter closed.
‘Nah. I don’t really like anybody here. It’s all a bit too high class for me.’ He replies with a wink. I smile.
We sit in compatible quiet for a while, making the odd comment. I begin to get restless as the thought of Ryan’s tongue plays in my head.
‘Dude, have you seen Ryan?’ I ask.
He coughs nervously. ‘No. But…’ He replies, drifting off. I quirk a questioning eyebrow. ‘What was with all the touching at rehearsal?’
I laugh. ‘I don’t have a fucking clue.’ I sigh. ‘We kissed after you guys left. And there was grinding. It was good grinding. It was nice. Very nice.’
Jon stays silent. I open one of my eyes slightly and peer at him. He glares back at me.
‘What?’ I ask innocently.
‘Brendon. Do you not remember what I fucking told you?’
I let out a rush of breath. I don’t want to talk about that.
‘Brendon.’ He repeats.
‘Yes I know.’ I sigh. ‘But it’s different.’
Jon explodes. ‘No it’s not fucking different you complete idiot. Can’t you see that he’s fucking with you? He can see your little obsession and he’s using it to fuck with you and your goddamn boyfriend. He’s using you to fuck with Dallon, Brendon! He’s never liked Dallon, he’s an egocentric asshole and he just wants Dallon out of the band. What do you think happened to the last fucking bassist? Hm?’
‘He quit.’ I reply, a little shocked.
‘Yeah. He quit. Right.’ Pause. ‘Ryan basically kicked him out of the band, he had no choice. Ryan told him to get the fuck out or he’d beat the shit out of him. Ryan Ross is not a fucking nice guy. Ryan Ross is a fucking self-centred, retarded pussy with asshole tendencies. He’s a manipulator. A fucking manipulator. Shit, everybody fucking hates him for a reason Brendon. He’s a fuck up. A big one. Don’t you fucking go near him or he’ll fuck you up too.’
He pauses again, taking a drag of the joint.
‘You’ve got a good thing going with Dallon. Don’t fuck it up for a prick like him. You might think he returns your feelings, but he’s an actor. That’s all he is. He doesn’t know real emotion. So stay the fuck away from him.’
I just look at Jon. I’m finding it hard to take it all in.
‘I suggest you leave before you do anything fucking stupid.’ He says to me finally. Jon’s not looking at me but I can see the pure blazing behind his eyes.
I rise from my seat, in a daze, and stumble to the door.
And I do as Jon says. I get the fuck out. And he’s on my mind every step of the way.

Next Chapter >

I'm sorry this was a day late but I got distracted! Also I put up a masterpost to help you all navigate your way around. Once again, thanks for reading and PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT.


Tags: indifference, r, ryden
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oh brenny please stop it
this ryan ross is an ass, i can smell it from here :)

nice, can't wait for next chapter ;)

im having a crisis tho... i shop ryden for real but bren cheating on dallon??? 3:
and ryan... idk i dont think he's being genuine. mixed feelings