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The lights, the stage, the screams, the music. The heat, the sweat, the anger, the frustration.
The girl in his lap. The look in his eyes. The scent of him when he came near me. The hot breath in my ear as he sang with me.
He doesn't even know. And he probably never will.
***
The party was everything and nothing anyone expected all at the same time. Booze, smokes, friends, fans, girls... Everything and nothing all at once.
Ryan sat in the corner of one of the rooms in the house alone, nursing a cold beer and chasing it with thoughts. Angry thoughts. Bitter thoughts. Frustrated, childish, 'christ-why-does-the-world-hate-me?' thoughts. It certainly wasn't a good way to begin the night. Or end it for that matter.
Finally deciding he'd have more fun in his lonely hotel room, he stood, albeit shakily, and headed for the door.
"Hey, watch where you're... Ryan!"
He had accidentally run into Brendon, who looked way too happy. Way too sober. Those huge brown eyes stumped him for only a second before he regained function of his vocabulary. "Oh, sorry, Brendon. I was just, ah..."
Brendon frowned slightly. "You're not leaving are you? We've only been here a couple of hours!"
"The show wore me out," Ryan muttered, avoiding Brendon's piercing gaze. It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the real reason he wanted to get the hell out.
Brendon craned his neck down in some bizarre, bird-like way to look Ryan directly in the eye. "Are you drunk?"
"No."
"How many of these have you had?" he continued, ignoring his friend's denial and gently removing the half-empty bottle of Smirnoff Ice from his hand. Brendon gaped a little at his older friend; Ryan usually didn't drink -- none of them in the band did.
"That's only my second one," Ryan lied defensively. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't actually remember how many of those things he had downed in the past... how long had it even been? What time was it anyway?
"Look, if you really want to leave, I'll walk you back to the hotel."
"Brendon, the hotel is only two blocks away."
Brendon gave Ryan a look that screamed something along the lines of, 'Stop me, bitch, and see what happens. I'll drag your skinny ass back to that hotel if I have to.'
Ryan sighed and gestured for the younger man to lead the way. "Fine..."
Ryan only stumbled a couple of times as they walked back to the hotel. He blamed the uneven sidewalk, but Brendon didn't believe him for one second. Ryan acted sober enough, but Brendon knew him too well to think that he was. Not so wasted to the point he couldn't keep his head, but drunk nonetheless.
'He's too quiet,' Brendon thought as he watched his elder stare at the glowing numbers above the door of the elevator. Ryan was normally a rather quiet and shy person, but Brendon could tell the difference between his normal state of quiet and his 'I-really-would-rather-not-talk-about-it' quiet.
Brendon followed Ryan all the way to his room, but didn't leave when Ryan unlocked the door with his key card.
"You can go back to the party now," Ryan deadpanned, pausing at the open door.
Brendon thought for a second. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"
Ryan let out a frustrated laugh. "Seriously, Brendon, I'm fine. Go have fun."
They merely stared at each other for a few more seconds before Brendon stood up straight and set his jaw. "No. I'm staying here."
"Suit yourself," Ryan shrugged, entering his room.
Brendon quickly followed him before the door could close and lock him out. Ryan had already pulled stuff out of the fridge and was making a sandwich when Brendon followed him into the kitchenette.
Ryan only glanced back at him once. "I'm not going to tell you to leave, but I can guarantee you I won't be much fun to hang around."
"Stop with the bullshit, Ross. What's wrong with you?"
"Brendon..."
"And don't give me that whining shit, it doesn't work on me. Talk to me."
Ryan was a lot more stubborn than some would think. He quickly proceeded to shove half of his sandwich in his mouth to keep from having to talk.
Brendon sighed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned against the peeling wallpaper. This was going to be tough, but he wasn't about to back down.
"Are you done acting childish, or should I just keep waiting here?" Brendon threw out nonchalantly as Ryan swallowed the sandwich with a cough. "Talk to me, Ross. Unless, you know, you want to choke down the other half of that sandwich."
"What if I don't want to talk to you?"
"You tell me everything, Ryan. It can't be that bad."
"Well, it is."
They stared at each other in silence again, Brendon leaning against the wall, Ryan resting a hand on the counter.
"You know I wouldn't get mad at you. Whatever it is."
Ryan nodded and looked away. "I know. That's not what I'm afraid of."
"What are you afraid of then? What would happen if you told me what was going on in that genius mind of yours?" Brendon had unfolded his arms now and took a step toward his friend.
Ryan shook his head and continued to avoid Brendon's eyes.
"Ryan."
The elder looked back up at Brendon as he placed a hand on each of his shoulders.
"You would hate me. Forever."
Brendon made a clucking noise with his tongue before pulling Ryan into a tight hug. "I wouldn't hate you. I could never hate you."
"You would too. And so would everyone else. It would ruin the band, I'd be the laughingstock of the century-"
"That's not true. You're too much of a genius to hate-"
"People on the internet worldwide would all be talking about it. My reputation would be slaughtered to hell-"
"Come on, it can't possibly be that bad, Ryan-"
"Yes it is!" Ryan finally yelled, pushing Brendon hard enough to make him stumble into the counter behind him.
"Ryan..." Brendon could see the hurt in the other's eyes, the frustration, the guilt, the panic. "Please. If not me, then who? Who will you ever tell?"
Ryan hung his head in defeat. Brendon was right, as usual. "Fine. I... I... love you."
Brendon froze. "What?"
"I love you, Brendon Urie. You're all I ever think about. I get jealous watching our dancers when they're all over you. My heart feels like it's trying to escape my chest when we're alone together. I..." Ryan shook his head. "But I guess it doesn't really matter now, does it?" He muttered as he attempted to leave, sandwich forgotten.
Brendon quickly regained his senses. "Ryan," he called after him, following him out of the kitchenette. "Wait a goddamn minute, Ross!"
Brendon grabbed Ryan by the wrists and shoved him against the wall, successfully pinning him with his weight so he couldn't run off.
"Get the fuck off me, Brendon!"
"Ryan, listen to me."
Ryan continued to struggle, but Brendon had more muscle and the upper hand. He finally pinned his wrists above his head, their faces mere centimeters away from each other.
"Ryan, stop."
The elder finally stopped squirming, but wouldn't look Brendon in the face.
"Why do you always run from me? You act like I'm going to hurt you or something. Ryan, look at me."
The lyricist sighed and looked up at the singer, but continued to avoid his eyes.
Brendon leaned into the small space between them to nuzzle Ryan's cheek. "I love you too, Ry."
"Stop toying with me, Urie, this isn't a fucking game."
"And I'm not playing one." Brendon leaned back so that he could see Ryan's face. Angry. Upset. Annoyed. He wasn't looking at him again. "Look, isn't this what you wanted?" Brendon asked, releasing his grip on Ryan's wrists and tilting his chin so that he had to look at him. "Don't you want me to love you back?"
Two sets of identical brown eyes met and Ryan knew Brendon was sincere.
Immediately, Ryan grabbed Brendon by his tie and pulled him in for a fierce kiss. Lips, tongues, teeth. Fire, passion, love.
Brendon pulled Ryan's head back to gain better access to that long neck, blindly unbuttoning the other's vest. Ryan gasped when he felt teeth on his ear and warm hands pushing away his vest and shirt.
Grasping Brendon's tie again, Ryan undid it and, pulling it out from his collar, flung it back around Brendon's neck and reined him in as he tried to go for Ryan's pants.
"Where do you think you're going?" Ryan muttered, placing soft kisses all over Brendon's face.
A smile spread across Brendon's face and he laughed. "Good point."
Without warning, Brendon hauled Ryan up over his shoulder and went to throw him down on the bed before returning to his original task.
The two laughed as they finished undressing each other, tickling and teasing. At long last they were naked, but became quiet again.
"Have you ever... done this before?" Ryan asked, looking down at Brendon, who had somehow ended up on his back.
"Have you?"
"Not with a guy," Ryan replied, blushing slightly.
"Me either, but I'll trust you won't break me."
Ryan stared at the younger man. Did he honestly just suggest that he...?
"Ry...," Brendon whispered, pulling him down to lave at his ear. "Fuck me."
Ryan only hesitated for a second before scrambling in his nightstand for lube. He coated two fingers and carefully pressed one against Brendon's opening, teasing slightly before pushing in.
Brendon groaned at the sensation, spreading his legs further to give Ryan better access. Ryan carefully watched Brendon's face and paid attention to every noise he made. Inserting a second finger, Ryan placed a gentle hand on Brendon's inner thigh, catching his breath when Brendon produced a long, pitiful sounding whine.
"Ry... fuck, Ryan, please."
Interesting as it was to watch Brendon as he finger fucked him, Ryan knew it wasn't going to get either of them off. Reluctantly, with a sigh from Brendon that clearly stated, 'I-was-not-done-enjoying-that,' Ryan removed his fingers and grabbed the lube again. He gently coated his cock before pressing up against Brendon, who had been watching him with lidded eyes.
"Are you ready?"
Brendon nodded, wrapping an arm around Ryan's neck. Brendon tried to brace himself and relax at the same time as Ryan pushed into him, letting out a contented moan when Ryan hit bottom.
"You all right, Bren? Your eyes are the size of the moon."
"You've done this before," Brendon replied, ignoring the lyric joke for now.
"I already told you that I haven't."
"With a guy. But you have with a girl."
"Why would you say that?" Ryan feigned, blushing a little.
Brendon gave a devious little smirk and shifted his hips ever so slightly, causing Ryan to gasp. "Because you know exactly what you're doing, don't you? Now stop acting like I'm some fragile little virgin girl and fuck me like you mean it."
Ryan didn't need to be told twice, quickly propping Brendon's legs up on his shoulders and picking up a steady rhythm. Brendon groaned and ran his fingers through Ryan's hair, pressing their lips together for a sloppy kiss.
Ryan had Brendon moaning like a cheap whore in no time, his eyes shut tight and his neck bared to Ryan's wandering mouth. With each thrust, Brendon's cries became a little louder and Ryan's breath came a little harder.
"You sound like such a slut, Bren," Ryan gasped in Brendon's ear before grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin.
"I'm your slut now," Brendon whispered, clutching desperately at Ryan's neck as the elder pounded into him mercilessly. Brendon smiled a little as a thought occurred to him. "And isn't this exactly where you like me, I'm exactly where you like me you know..."
Ryan pulled back slightly to look in Brendon's eyes. "Feeling as good as lovers can, you know..."
Brendon's keening reached a peak after a few more minutes and he dug his nails into Ryan's back. Throwing his head back, Brendon came with a violently beautiful scream, not so unlike some he had produced onstage before, and made dents in Ryan's skin with his nails.
Ryan was much quieter as he rode Brendon's orgasm to his own climax, tangling his fingers in Brendon's already mussed hair and groaning into his shoulder.
Brendon placed a shaking hand on Ryan's cheek when he finally collapsed and tried to catch his breath. The elder pulled out and allowed Brendon to stretch his legs back out.
"You okay, Bren?"
Brendon gave a contented sigh and ran his trembling fingers through his own sweat-soaked hair. "Yeah... you're amazing."
"You were loud enough," Ryan muttered, kissing the corner of Brendon's mouth.
Brendon gave a half-hearted glare before capturing Ryan's lips in a tender kiss. "I'm a slut for your cock, what can I say?"
Ryan let out a tired laugh and rolled off to the side. Grabbing a kleenex from the box on the nightstand, he wiped Brendon's cum off both of their stomachs and threw it towards the trash can, missing by a foot or so. Ignoring it for the moment, he cuddled up next to Brendon and pulled the sheets over them.
"Hey uh, any idea what time it is?"
Brendon turned to look at his guitarist; his shaggy brown hair was tousled and still drenched with sweat, his large brown eyes half-closed.
The singer laughed softly, picking up the joke Ryan had made earlier. "I'd say about nine."