Under the Lights of Sin City [2/3]
Title: Under the Lights of Sin City [2/3]
Author: ipanicdaily
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Jon/Spencer, tons more
POV: 3rd; Ryan-centric.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If I owned anyone in this story [beside Mia and Kade], do you honestly think I'd be writing it? No, I'd be out making it happen. :]
Summary: Someone, Ryan decided, was out to make his life hell. Some divine power that he couldn’t see or hear or touch, but certainly managed to get himself at the end of a blunt stick with. Right when he thought he escaped the turmoil of his past, it popped up and smacked him in the face, harder than ever.
Warning: Man/man, language, sex, angst;
Beta: ashxisxrad
Author Notes: Here's part two! Sorry it took so long D:
Past Parts: Two Weeks In Hawaii
Saturday
“I swear to God, Brendon!” Ryan groaned with frustration, tugging at the man’s ankles. “Get your ass up!”
Brendon whined, fingers gripping incredibly tight at the headboard for having woken up only minutes before. Ryan held his breath and pulled at the dead-weight man until his lungs felt ready to collapse, letting go and exhaling. He honestly didn’t expect Brendon to come easily, that’s why he set the alarm for earlier than they actually needed to get up, but Ryan didn’t expect it to be this difficult either.
It was like dealing with a stubborn child, adamant on getting their way.
But Ryan wasn’t about to give in. No way.
Trying a different approach, Ryan climbed back onto the mattress and walked on his knees towards the top, Brendon immediately turning his face the other way. Ryan ignored him and grabbed his pillow, straddling himself over Brendon’s thighs, wailing him as hard as possible with the piece of bedding.
“Get.” smack. “Your ass.” smack. “Up.” smack.
Brendon whined more into his pillow, releasing the headboard to lazily swing his arms back in attempt to stop Ryan. He wasn’t close in actually getting Ryan who continued attacking him, so Brendon shuffled his body around until Ryan fell to the side from Brendon knocking his knee out from under him. Once Ryan was down, Brendon bit back a satisfied smirk and curled tightly into a ball.
“Fine.” Ryan huffed, sliding off the mattress. “I’m going to take a shower. If you don’t get up and ready, I’ll go without you,” he said, heading towards the bathroom. “And if I go alone, I might not come back.” Ryan closed the bathroom door behind him with a loud thud for emphasis.
Ryan, however, had no intention of getting on that plane without Brendon. Or of taking a shower - at least, not yet. Instead, Ryan fished around in the cupboard for one of the large squirt guns they had to hide from Amelia while back when she decided to be a sniper on their balcony, squirting anyone who came over.
He turned on the shower, keeping the water as cold as possible, then opened the chamber to fill it with water; testing the gun on the tile. It shot water in a straight line, a long distance, and actually hurt pretty bad if in a close enough range. Ryan had no idea where Brendon even got it from, it was like a military weapon for water play, but it seemed useful for something at last.
Finger on the trigger, Ryan carefully opened the bathroom door again, leaving the water running and analyzed the situation. As he guessed, Brendon didn’t move, he figured the other man knew there wasn’t a real threat in his words, and slipped out. Being incredibly thin and tiny came in handy when being stealthy, allowing Ryan to sneak across the wooden floor easily.
When he was close enough to deliver a considerable sting to Brendon’s skin with the spray, Ryan aimed for the spot right between Brendon’s shoulder blades and tugged the plastic trigger back as far as it would go. Instantly, a perfect, thin line of water shot out, nailing Brendon right was Ryan had intended.
“Fuck!” Brendon yelled out, startled, jumping and arching his back. Ryan smirked, finger at the ready and raising an eyebrow at Brendon when the shocked brown eyes found his. “What the fuck, Ryan?” he asked, reaching back to try and touch the no doubt reddened skin.
“I told you to get up,” Ryan said, aiming at Brendon’s stomach now. “So you have five seconds,” he warned.
Brendon half frowned, half glared, challenging Ryan.
“Five…” Ryan started to count down. “Four…three…” He moved his arms so the gun was aimed at Brendon’s pelvis instead. “Two…”
“Seriously, Ryan,” Brendon said, flexing his shoulders and wincing. “Don’t-“
“One.” Ryan pulled the trigger again, this time nailing Brendon right in the balls. He didn’t hold the trigger long, releasing it as soon as Brendon cried out in pain. “How about now? Gonna get up?”
“How about I shove that down your throat?” Brendon snapped back, face twisted in agony.
“I’ve got plenty of water left.” Ryan stated, brushing the threat aside and giving the gun a little shake to cause the water inside to slosh around inside for emphasis. “Where would you like it next?”
Releasing himself, Brendon glared at Ryan then slowly moved himself into a somewhat sitting position. “Gonna kill you,” he mumbled, eyes narrowing. Ryan sprayed him quickly in the stomach, just for a moment, then threw the gun at the bed and started for the door.
“You’re going to be sorry!” Brendon called, grabbing the gun and flinching briefly as he stood, running after Ryan. The sad thing was Brendon was a lot quicker than Ryan, so he caught him relatively fast, hosing Ryan down with icy water until Ryan’s brown hair was dripping; the man laughing despite his stinging body.
Now downstairs, Brendon straddled Ryan who had fallen to the ground, holding the empty gun like a solider and smiling. “You’re my prisoner now,” he said to Ryan.
Ryan calmed himself and pushed his upper body forward, supporting himself with his hands, and kissed Brendon who, after a moment, tossed the toy aside to hold Ryan. They stayed like that for a few moments before Brendon pulled away, standing up and reaching down to Ryan to help him.
“You’re wasting water,” he said as he pulled Ryan up. “You’re a danger to our earth.”
“I think we’ve got enough water to spare a little,” Ryan said, brushing his wet bangs aside.
“Hmm,” Brendon hummed, suddenly hauling Ryan over his shoulder. “You’re still my prisoner,” he told Ryan, heading for the stairs. “And your crime is certainly punishable.” His voice was incredibly hinting.
“We need to leave soon!” Ryan protested, all-too-used to getting carried over Brendon’s shoulder now.
“Soon is plenty of time,” Brendon said, smacking Ryan’s thigh and heading up the stairs.
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
Somehow, despite a rather interesting morning, they managed to make their plane. Even if Brendon decided to drive rather slow and take forever to find somewhere in the proper lot to park. Ryan made him carry all their bags, the three or four they had, as his own punishment; Ryan was kind of sore anyway.
Between getting doused in icy cold water by an overly powerful water gun, and Brendon’s punishment, Ryan was amazed he could even move.
“I haven’t been on plane in years…” Brendon mused, stretching out and making himself comfortable in the seat. Since he bought the tickets, he decided they were going to travel first class, even if doing so cost a bunch of extra money that essentially amounted to one big waste. Sure, there was a bit more room, and there were a few small luxuries, but Ryan would have been just fine in coach.
He hated when Brendon used his wealth for unnecessary things. Even if Brendon made it so Ryan had access to his money as well; along with setting up a private account for Ryan as Brendon had done for Amelia and even for William.
“I could have said, ‘I haven’t in six months’, if someone didn’t feel like celebrating Christmas for a week straight,” Ryan said, buckling himself in after assuring Spencer that, yes, we’re on the goddamn plane so we’ll see you in a few hours, you annoying bitch, and turning his phone off.
“What can I say?” Brendon shrugged. “I’m a very festive guy.” He grinned that adorably cheesy grin that Ryan could never be mat, no matter how hard he tried.
“I think you have multiple personalities,” Ryan teased, watching the others board and pass by them for their own seats.
“You love them all,” Brendon said. “Especially good cop with a bad coc-“ Ryan quickly clamped his hand over Brendon’s mouth.
“Shut up,” he hissed, “Or you won’t have good or bad, you’ll have nothing,” he warned.
Removing his hand, Ryan wiped his palm on his jeans and pretended not to notice Brendon’s pout by looking out the small window, waiting for the plane to leave.
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
“No!” Ryan said louder than the other times, the flight attendant looking suspiciously at him. “For the hundredth time,” he lowered his voice, looking at the book in his lap, “we are not joining the mile high club.”
“But I’ve always wanted to!” Brendon whined, unable to stay still in his seat. Not having to wear your seatbelt once the plane was at a proper altitude, Ryan learned, was not an ideal thing in their situation. “It’s a very fun club…”He put a hand on Ryan’s upper thigh again. “Everyone becomes a member at some point…”
“I will bite your hand off,” Ryan said flatly without moving his eyes from the paper.
“Please?” Brendon begged, moving his hand farther up regardless.
“No,” Ryan repeated with little patience. “If you want to join so bad, you have two hands.” He shoved Brendon’s hand back towards his own body. “Go crazy.”
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
They couldn’t have reached Vegas any slower, Ryan miserably thought. Brendon didn’t give up the entire however many hours they were in the air with his pursuit in the pair having some kind of sex and officially becoming part of what everyone knows as the ‘mile high club’. He kept suggesting various things, fidgeting in his seat, touching Ryan wherever he could until Ryan would get irritated enough to slap his hands away; he really pushed his limits with Ryan’s patience. But they landed without Ryan’s hands wrapped around Brendon’s throat, and that was a good thing.
“What do you think would have happened if there were like…snakes on the plane, or something?” Brendon thought out loud as they walked the tunnel from the plane to the airport; being pretty much the first ones off.
“I think that if you don’t shut up, very bad things are going to happen,” Ryan said, letting Brendon take his hand and leading him, for once.
As soon as they rounded the corner, able to see the always crowded airport, Ryan spotted Spencer; the other man leaning against a window looking out to the flight strips with his arms crossed. For a moment Ryan was frozen, only moving when people behind them got irritated and when Spencer’s bitchface managed to get fiercer.
Letting go of Brendon, Ryan made his way to his friend and hugged him tight, nearly forgetting Brendon was even there. It had been a year since Ryan had seen Spencer - his best friend since he could walk and who, at the moment, took priority over everything else. The longest they had ever gone without seeing each other was a few days, usually over some stupid, petty fight, so this was important. And for a moment, the world seemed to stop, and it was as though nothing at all had changed over the past twelve months.
That was until Ryan realized, “God, Spence!” and pulled back to look his friend over. “You’re so thin now!” Spencer hand never been fat, but there had been a lot more of him a year ago. Now Ryan kind of felt like he was hugging a pole. Or like he was hugging himself.
“Yeah.” Spencer smiled, blue eyes sparkling brighter than ever. “I met this guy named Zack who’s really awesome. He works at this music place down the street from the studio. But anyway, we got talking one day and now we go to the gym and on runs and shit.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “And his boyfriend, also oddly named Rian, only spelled R-I-A-N, is a drummer!” Spencer pretty much fangirled.
Ryan laughed, trying not to start crying for multiple reasons. “Sounds like true love,” he teased, Spencer playfully shoving him. “As long as I haven’t been replaced…” his voice got scared and quiet, Spencer’s smile dropping quickly.
“Never, Ry.” Spencer shook his head, looking right into Ryan’s eyes. Ryan still felt off, though.
“You look really good,” Brendon said from off to the side, Spencer’s eyes telling Ryan that they’d talk later before he let Ryan go to grab Brendon and hug him.
“You too,” Spencer replied, patting his back. “Though I could kill you for ditching at Christmas.”
“There was so much to celebrate that we accidentally missed the plane.” Brendon simply grinned.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m sure.”
“Where’s Jon?” Ryan asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Studio.” Spencer frowned, lips pursed. “You probably won’t see him until tomorrow. The only reason I see him every day anymore is because we live together and he ends up home eventually.”
Brendon glanced at his watch. “We should get a move on; we’re supposed to check into the hotel by five and we should get situated before doing anything else.”
“I still don’t get why you couldn’t stay with us,” Spencer said with disappointment.
“Sorry, but knowing you’re a room or so over would make sex very awkward.” Brendon answered, patting Spencer’s shoulder then heading off in the direction the signs stated was luggage claim.
“He’s been like this all morning,” Ryan mumbled, watching his boyfriend leave.
“And you’ve been denying him, haven’t you?”
“Spencer Smith,” Ryan looped his arm with Spencer’s, grinning, “You know me all too well.”
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
“This place is nicer than my apartment!” Spencer complained as the three walked into the penthouse suite that Brendon rented for the weekend. Ryan couldn’t even think about the price per night that it cost. And he had given up a while ago in fighting Brendon over the whole financial everything. They settled on Ryan paying for minor things with his own money, such as dinners and clothes and even a few bills, while Brendon could occasionally splurge on pleasantries such as the hotel.
“Reminds me of The Hangover,” he added as he set one of their bags down.
“Well we are in the heart of Vegas,” Ryan said emotionlessly. “And that movie was stupid.”
“You’re stupid.” Spencer scowled and playfully stuck his tongue out at his friend. “Don’t ask me for help when you wake up to a lion and a baby in the morning, then.” Ryan scowled back with a small, unthreatening glare.
“I’m going to call Bill and tell him we’re here,” Brendon said after taking a quick look around, pulling out his phone. Ryan nodded and started to survey their surroundings as well while Brendon slipped out onto the balcony. There was a lot of space; a living room set up in the middle with long couches and a flat-screen television, a kitchen with barstools and wineglasses overhead, a hot tub in the corner; Ryan had to bite back a grin because, though he’d never admit it, he felt a bit like he was on the top of the world.
This was one of those moments where Ryan kind of wanted to brag about dating someone with money. But that was wrong, and really, most days Ryan was able to forget about that little detail anyway, because he loved Brendon for so much more.
“I know you hate the whole money thing, Ry,” Spencer followed his friend towards the kitchen, “But you know he just wants to make you happy.”
Ryan turned to face Spencer, soft smile on his mouth. “He does.” He looked out the open glass door to the balcony where Brendon was leaning on the railing and happily chatting away. “But not because he spends money on me all the time.”
“Still,” Spencer sighed and leaned on the counter, “It’s nice.” Ryan studied his friend for a moment before frowning, moving to be opposite him at the counter.
“Spence, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Spencer forced a smile, avoiding eye contact by looking down at his folded hands.
Ryan’s face was less than amused, knowing that his friend was lying. “Spencer.” His tone was hard and demanding; the same tone he would use when they were younger and Spencer would find it fun to hide Ryan’s toys on him when he was bored.
“It’s just…” Spencer took a deep breath, exhaling harshly. “Ever since Jon got that studio, I see less and less of him. He leaves early in the morning and doesn’t come home until it’s completely dark out.” He frowned, biting his lip. “I know the studio is a big deal for him, but I miss him too, you know? And if I call his cell I get his voicemail. If I show up, he ushers me out…”
“Jon loves you, Spence,” Ryan said softly, reaching out to rub Spencer’s shoulder.
“I know.” Spencer gave a small smile. “But sometimes I wonder what’s more important to him; me or his work.”
“After tomorrow,” Ryan assured Spencer, “The studio will be at the back of his mind again. He’s just working really hard to make a good opening because it’s his big break.” Ryan hadn’t gotten any better at the inspirational speaking, but when it came to Spencer, his best friend and practical brother, he would do anything to make him feel better. Just like Spencer would him.
“His studio is his shiny new toy;” Dealing with literature on a near daily basis made Ryan think of comparisons and similes on a near constant basis. “Sure, it’s getting all his attention right now, but in a few days it’ll lose that appeal and he’ll go back to devoting all his time to what he’s always had and loved; you.” Spencer’s smile grew a little, but Ryan could still tell he was upset; doubting.
“You remember that movie?” Ryan asked, giving it one last try. “Toy Story, I think it’s called?” Ryan leaned on his elbows on the counter. “Well anyway, you’re like that cowboy toy and the studio is like that space character and Jon is the boy you rarely see. For a while, the studio is going to get all the attention because it’s new and exciting. But in the end, you’re what he’s loves the most, and if anything ever happened to you you know he would be devastated. Like the kid in the movie was when he couldn’t find the cowboy dude.”
Spencer started laughing, head dropping down to his hands for a moment before he stood up and shook his head. “Just how much Disney are you forced to watch?” he asked through his laughter, Ryan trying to frown but smiling because at least Spencer seemed to feel better.
“Too much,” he answered with a slow nod of his own head. “I don’t know who’s worse with it, either; Brendon or Amelia.” Ryan stood up straight and looked seriously at Spencer who wiped briefly at his eyes, lips pulled back in a grin as he came off his laughing high. “But the concept is the same, Spence; you’re what Jon cares the most about. You just have to be patient and wait for his temporary obsession to pass.”
Spencer’s laughter died down gradually, blue eyes shining and giving a small nod. He knew the truth, he was just having doubts. Ryan had been there many times, Spencer always reminding him that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. “I really miss you, Ry,” Spencer said quietly; just above a whisper.
“I miss you too, Spence,” Ryan replied. It was the little things that Ryan missed most. Stupid reassurances like this that didn’t have the same effect over the phone and therefore could only work in person. For a moment Ryan wondered where along the way Spencer had started having these doubts, when he started to break, because Ryan never picked up on it when they had talked over the phone. But Spencer was good at hiding his feelings when he tried hard enough - his eyes being his biggest giveaway.
And over the phone, obviously, Ryan couldn’t see his eyes.
“Well,” Brendon walked back inside, pocketing his phone, “Apparently Mia is over the fact that she couldn’t come with us.” He smiled, joining them and putting his arms around Ryan’s waist; leaning his chin on Ryan’s shoulder and facing Spencer. “Told me to bring her back presents,” Ryan rolled his eyes, “And to make sure Spencer is nice to you or else.”
Spencer scoffed. “I’m a sweetheart!”
“Yeah,” Ryan snorted, “A real saint.” He and Spencer shared a final moment with their eyes, both smiling.
“Did I miss something?” Brendon asked, looking between them as he released Ryan to stand more beside him than behind him.
“Nope,” Spencer said, leaning sideways on the counter now with his left arm folded slightly beneath him. “Just a little catching up between friends.” Ryan hummed in agreement, nodding. “You know,” Spencer gave a mock-angered look to Brendon, “Since you stole him from me.”
“Yep.” Brendon proudly grinned, putting his arms around Ryan’s shoulders protectively. “And I’m not giving him back, either.” He was only half joking, pressing his face into Ryan’s shoulder.
“That’s okay.” Spencer stood up and as his phone started to go off. “It’s nicer without him,” he teased, flipping it open and reading what Ryan knew was a text message by the tone.
“I think that counts as being mean to me,” Ryan said, fake pouting and leaning his head on Brendon’s. “Go kick his ass.” Brendon laughed into his shoulder, squeezing him a little tighter.
“I gotta go,” Spencer said, shutting his phone but smiling with both his eyes and mouth. Ryan knew that the message had to be from Jon. “I’ll leave you two to your palace, and I’ll see you for breakfast in the morning?” he asked, walking backwards towards the door and working his keys from his pocket.
“If we’re up,” Brendon replied with a sly grin.
“Have fun,” Ryan said, taking his head off Brendon as the younger man released him.
“You too.” Spencer nodded. “Don’t let Brendon wander too far or you may never see him again,” he joked as he opened the door.
“I’ll keep a leash on him,” Ryan promised while leaving the kitchen and heading towards one of the couches; pulling Brendon along with him as emphasis since Brendon had laced their fingers together anyway.
Spencer waved and left, pulling the door behind him, leaving the two alone in the large penthouse.
“So…” Brendon pushed Ryan back so he was pressed against the couch. “There are lots of fun things in here to play with,” he said, sliding his fingers into the loop holes of Ryan’s jeans and tugging his hips forward. “And you promised that if I was a good boy we could play.”
“I don’t think trying to get into my pants the entire flight counts as ‘good’,” Ryan said with a raised eyebrow, putting his arms around Brendon’s neck for support since Brendon was leaning him back over the couch some. “And you were a bitch to get up this morning.”
“But we made the plane,” Brendon pointed out, pressing his lips to Ryan’s. “S’farther than last time,” he muttered against Ryan’s mouth. Ryan smiled, kissing his boyfriend back for a moment, almost deciding to give in but stuck to his original plan and let his head fall back out of Brendon’s reach.
“I’m going to have to go with you were bad, and therefore undeserving of play time,” he said. Brendon pouted, giving a small whine. “But,” Ryan grinned, “You can redeem yourself before the night’s over.”
“Oh yeah?” Brendon kissed Ryan’s collarbone since it’s all he could reach. “How so?” he asked, warm breath tickling Ryan some.
“I know this great club about five or ten minutes from here that I haven’t been to in years.” Ryan made Brendon stand up so he could straighten his back as it began to ache from the angle it was at. “Survive a couple of hours there, with minimal complaints, and we’ll let Spencer kill us for missing breakfast.”
Brendon looked him in the eye, contemplating the offer, slowly kissing Ryan and making a very light humming noise. “And if I refuse?”
Ryan released Brendon’s neck and pushed his hands off his hips, stepping to the side then heading backwards towards the door. “One of these suitcases,” he gestured at the bags on the floor as he passed, “Will stay closed the entire weekend.”
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
Someone, Ryan decided, was out to make his life hell. Some divine power that he couldn’t see or hear or touch, but certainly managed to get himself at the end of a blunt stick with. Right when he thought he escaped the turmoil of his past, it popped up and smacked him in the face, harder than ever.
See, at the time, going to the club seemed like a good idea and nice way to expose Brendon to an entirely different world. The thumping music was loud enough to feel in your chest, the flashing lights quick enough to cause a series of seizures, and the sweaty bodies packed tight enough to remind you of those times you went to see your favorite band and got lost somewhere in the moshpit because fuck, it was worth it.
Ryan wasn’t much of a clubber, but it’d been well over a year since he’d gone and he had this craving to go once again; even if only to regret it later when his head felt ready to explode.
The pair was at the club for maybe ten minutes, enjoying some drink that Ryan forgot the name of, but was colorful (or was that the lights around them?) and rather alcoholic, when that higher power against Ryan thrust a very happy Gabe at them from fucking nowhere. One minute Ryan was sipping on his drink and enjoying the loud music, and the next he was choking and jumping as a pair of long arms circled him.
“Oh my god, Ryan and Brendon!” was practically shouted into his ear as his spine was nearly cracked in half. “I thought you stayed down south!” Gabe lingered a moment before releasing Ryan and doing the same to Brendon - completely against his will. “What’re ya doin’ in Vegas?!”
Brendon, frowning, shoved Gabe off, mouthing ‘you okay?’ to Ryan as he tried to breathe in air and not his drink. Ryan nodded, finally stopping, running the back of his hand along his mouth then blinking his eyes a few times since tears had gathered. Gabe leaned on the small circular table between them, patiently waiting an answer.
“Jon,” Ryan said, breathing carefully. “He’s got a gallery opening tomorrow.”
“Sweet!” Gabe flashed a toothy grin. Ryan took a moment to look him over because, well, he was almost a completely different person than a year ago, it seemed. At least with looks. Gabe wore a baseball cap turned somewhat sideways, the design unreadable, and white framed glasses. His jeans were tight, and his shirt was some plaid design. On his left wrist, Ryan was quick to notice after, right under Gabe’s folded hands, was the bracelet that William had handed back to him the night before Ryan was supposed to return to Vegas.
“It’s weird runnin’ into you!” Gabe continued grinning madly. “Like, what’re the chances, ya know?”
“Not really,” Brendon replied over the music. “We’re not far from where you live, Gabe.”
Gabe laughed, shaking his head, making Brendon and Ryan share a confused look. “I don’t live in Vegas no more,” he said, resting his chin in his palms as he supported his head up. “I’ve been in New York since the new year.” His laughter died down as he noticed the confusion. “They never told you?” Gabe cocked his head.
“Who?” Ryan had no idea what Gabe was talking about.
“Oh shit.” Gabe frowned now, dropping his hands and standing almost straight. “I thought you knew…”
“Knew what?” Brendon’s tone was a mixture of confusion, frustration, and anger.
“Alex ‘n Nate - I’ve been stayin’ with them the past few months,” Gabe said, seemingly shocked that neither knew. “I mean, I asked them not to tell you why, ‘cause I didn’t want him to know;” The emphasis on ‘him’ was clearly a reference to William. “But I thought they at least told you I was there…”
“Nope.” Brendon was mostly angry now. “They never so much as even mentioned you.”
“Why’d you move out to New York?” Ryan asked before he could stop himself. The alcohol probably had a good part in that.
Gabe looked down at the table, rubbing the back of his neck; hesitant to reply. “I got myself into a lot of trouble and lost just about everything.” Ryan could barely hear him over the ambient noise. “After a few nights in jail, Alex came and told me to come stay with him and Nate. It was too painful here anyway, you know?”
“So now you get trashed in New York?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Ryan kicked Brendon under the table to tell him to stop being an ass.
“No.” Gabe’s smile returned as he shook his head briefly. “Realized that he was right and that I needed help so I found some in New York. Haven’t touched a drink in months.” He grinned.
“Good for you.” Ryan smiled. One less alcoholic in the world was a very good thing.
“If New York is so great for you, why are you back here?” Apparently Brendon didn’t get the hint, and Ryan was tempted to kick him again.
“Wedding!”
“For who?” Ryan and Brendon asked almost at the same time.
“A good friend of my boy’s,” Gabe answered; a sudden dawning expression taking over his face. “Oh, fuck! You gotta meet my boy!” And before Ryan or Brendon could even so much as process the words, they were being dragged through the crowds towards the private booths in back.
The bouncer or whatever he was granted Gabe entrance; that alone surprising Ryan as he stumbled behind Gabe who not only gripped tightly at their arms, but also forgot that he had considerably longer legs and that when he moved, especially quickly, people had difficulties keeping up. Gabe took them to a booth in the corner where three men sat talking; all of which looked a bit off-putting.
Gabe released both of them and slid into the booth beside the man with his own white frame glasses and choppy brown hair; pulling him into a more-than-friendly kiss. Not that people really go around kissing their friends. Ryan was surprised by the sight, but he was also a little relieved, because it looked like Gabe had moved on and found someone new after all.
“Ry, Bren,” he looked up at them as he looped an arm around the other man’s shoulders, “This is Mikey; my boo and the savior of my life.” The man - Mikey - looked up at them with a thoughtful expression. “Mikes, these are Ryan and Brendon; two of the guys I told you about from when I was in Hawaii last summer.”
“Yeah.” Mikey nodded, staring at them. “I remember. Brendon…you’re the guy with a lot of inherited money and who’s best friends with Gabey’s ex.” He looked Brendon up and down.
“His name is William.” Brendon bit out. Ryan saw Gabe flinch a little at the name, reaching for Brendon’s hand and giving it a single squeeze.
“And that makes you Ryan.” Mikey’s eyes moved to him next. “The one originally from around here, but gave it all up to stay in Hawaii with Brendon.” His voice was emotionless. Ryan just nodded.
“Join us!” Gabe said, gesturing with his free hand to the seat across from him. “Sit and chat for a while!” Ryan could tell Brendon didn’t want to, and actually, neither did he, but they were being stared at, and Gabe looked so happy - last time Ryan saw the man, Gabe was broken and in tears - so he took the initiative and slowly sat; Brendon reluctantly sat as well.
“That’s Gerard, Mikey’s older brother.” Gabe introduced the man with semi-long black hair and incredibly pale skin who gave them an awkward smile. “And that’s Frank;” Gabe gestured towards the tattooed man next to Gerard who was chewing on his lip ring, “Gerard’s best-friend-boyfriend-sponsor or whatever the fuck they decide to call themselves this week.”
“Sponsor?” Ryan questioned.
“Fuck; forgot to mention that too!” Gabe shifted some in his seat. “Remember how I told you I moved to New York?” They nodded. “So, in rehab, or group, whatever the fuck you wanna call it, you get a sponsor - someone who understands what you’re going through and helps you work through the rough times and helps you get back on the right track.” Gabe explained. “Frank is Gerard’s sponsor.”
“And I’m Gabey’s,” Mikey said after with a proud smirk, leaning against Gabe comfortably.
“So what brings you back here?” Frank asked, using one arm to prop his head up.
“A, um, friend’s gallery opening,” Ryan said. “Tomorrow.”
“What kind of gallery?” Gerard asked, his voice startling Ryan because he wasn’t even aware the man was listening. Gerard seemed to be pulled into himself, hiding behind his hair and dark clothing.
“Photography,” he responded. Gerard nodded, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward, engaging Ryan in eye contact.
“What kind of photography does your friend do?”
“Gee’s an artist,” Frank said with a small, but proud smile. “Creates comics and cartoons and shit.”
“That’s cool.” Ryan slowly nodded a few times. “And he does a lot of portraiture; kind of. He hasn’t really done it in a professional setting yet, ‘cause until now he hasn’t had the space to do so, but he’s always taking pictures of people.” Ryan could tell that Gerard was focused and interested in what he was saying. “The uh, opening, is open to anyone,” he offered.
“We’ve got a wedding to be at tomorrow so maybe next time.” Mikey commented from his seat. “Right Gee?”
“This is his second wedding.” Gerard snorted, falling back against the seat again. “And you know we don’t even get along. Why do I have to be there?”
“Because you’re my brother and he’s my best friend.” Mikey scowled.
“Your best friend.” Gerard crossed his arms again. Brendon squeezed at Ryan’s hand, telling Ryan he wanted to leave, but Ryan felt like they should stay a few more minutes so he rubbed his thumb over his boyfriend’s knuckles as their hands remained joined beneath the table.
Really, Ryan should have listened to Brendon’s uncomfortable body language and returned to the overcrowded dance floor and bar, because that damn higher power out to get Ryan really made his life hell all over again in a matter of the five minutes following Brendon’s silent plea to leave. Maybe something else had told Brendon to get Ryan to leave, and Ryan chose to ignore it, but either way, Ryan never would have guessed what came next.
“Sorry I was gone so long.” Six words, nonthreatening and rather meaningless on their own, stopped Ryan’s breathing and upped the pace of his heart, forcing him to grab tighter at Brendon’s hand as he looked to the new addition to the table.
Standing there, grinning widely and looking exactly as Ryan remembered, was none other than Pete-fucking-Wentz. His ex-fiancé.
“Did you guys miss me?” he asked, not yet noticing Ryan’s presence.
“Of course,” Gabe said with a smirk, right as Ryan heard Gerard mutter, ‘no’. “We got some company.” He gestured towards Brendon and Ryan, Pete following with his eyes; face paling when he and Ryan made eye contact. For a second, Ryan thought he saw Pete’s eyes flash, maybe with regret or hurt or even anger, Ryan wanting to look away but unable to so much as blink, let alone actually do so. “They’re old friends,” Gabe told him.
“Ghosts of the past.” It was almost like a subconscious response, Pete keeping contact a moment longer before pulling on a smile again, fake at best, acting as though there was nothing unusual about it at all. “That’s cool,” he said, looking to Brendon then to everyone else. “The more the merrier, right?”
“Exactly!” Gabe didn’t pick up on anything, and as Ryan briefly glanced at the other men, no one else did either. “That’s Brendon,” Gabe pointed to Ryan’s left, “And that’s his boyfriend, Ryan.” He pointed at Ryan next. “They’re from Hawaii, here for a friend’s gallery opening.”
“Nice to meet you,” Pete said, offering his hand to Brendon and forcing Brendon to release Ryan’s hand to shake it. Pete acted like Ryan was too far away to shake Ryan’s hand, as though he didn’t want to be rude and reach over the table, and Ryan didn’t know which he felt more; shock, or anger.
Pete was acting as though they didn’t even know each other; that they were never dating, and that they were never once engaged. That he never left Ryan the night before their wedding for some guy named Patrick.
“Pete’s the one getting married tomorrow,” Gabe informed the two, moving over a bit to give Pete a spot to sit.
“Really.” It wasn’t a question, it was hardly even spoken, and Brendon’s hand found Ryan’s again with a little squeeze as though to ask if he was okay. Ryan wasn’t okay. He was looking at the man that he once loved, that he once cleaned up after and lied for and nearly lost his best friend over. The man that promised Ryan a life together, then left him for someone else on what was supposed to be the best day in Ryan’s life.
No, Ryan was absolutely not okay.
But what could he do? Pete clearly wanted to play stranger, act like they never knew each other, and the last thing Ryan wanted was a scene by calling Pete out on it, so he just had to sit there and play stupid as well. Even if it was eating away at him.
“Congratulations,” Brendon offered, and Ryan kind of wanted to smack him. It wasn’t Brendon’s thought though. How would he know this was that Pete? All he knew of Ryan’s past boyfriend was his name. Not what he looked like, and certainly not who his friends were.
And that’s when Ryan realized that he knew Mikey already too. Kind of. He had never actually met the guy, but he had heard plenty about him, and had talked to him before over the phone. Even then Mikey seemed to hate him. Though it didn’t seem Mikey realized it was him. Ryan is a very common name, after all, and since Pete was playing stupid…
“Thanks.” Pete smiled, eyes flicking momentarily to Ryan, but going back to Brendon when he realized Ryan was staring at him. Angrily. “Feels great, too. Like I finally found the one person I know I’ll be happy with the rest of my life, you know?”
“Yeah;” Ryan was too quick to reply. “I know how that feels.”
“Me too,” Brendon said, lifting their joined hands up to kiss Ryan’s hand; Ryan hardly noticing as he watched Pete’s expression harden instead. Good, he thought. He hoped maybe Pete was feeling what Ryan felt for the past year. The pain, the regret; the jealousy.
“So how long you two been together?” Pete asked, waving his finger between the two.
“A year,” Ryan replied as Brendon lowered their hands again. “I went to Hawaii on vacation, intent on forgetting a conceded asshole, and ended up falling for Brenny during my two weeks there.” Pete’s expression hardened a little more, and Ryan fought to keep himself from smirking. “And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”
“Sounds like true love.” Pete’s words were practically sarcastic. Though it was hard to tell with all the background noise of the club.
“Maybe you two will be next.” Gabe used that suggestive tone; eyes twinkling for a moment. Ryan paid him no attention though.
“Maybe,” Brendon said, tone all-too-hopeful.
Pete suddenly stood again, moving some of his growing hair out of his face. “I’ll be right back,” he said, fixing the strings of his hoodie after. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” With the final word, he looked directly at Ryan, eyes beckoning him, then turned and disappeared.
“Are we almost done here?” Gerard asked with a bit of a whining tone.
“We’re staying until Pete wants to leave.” Mikey frowned at his brother. “We’re here for him, Gee.”
“He doesn’t care about us, though.” Frank spoke up, looking bored and tired. “Can’t we go back to the hotel and you two stay?”
“You just want to go have sex.” Gabe scoffed, smirking still. “Admit it.”
“As if you don’t.” Frank commented back, rolling his eyes. “You’re not as discreet as you think you are.”
“I gotta pee,” Ryan announced rather loudly, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation, and wanting to get to the bottom of this shit with Pete. He got some odd looks, because did he honestly have to announce it? But Ryan didn’t care because he just needed to get to that bathroom where Pete was waiting for him.
Brendon looked apprehensive to be left alone, sliding from the booth to let Ryan out, sharing a look with him to tell him to please hurry. Ryan nodded, giving Brendon a quick kiss as though to reassure him, then nearly ran towards his bathroom; weaving between the people effortlessly due to his thin stature.
When he reached the door labeled ‘mens’, Ryan opened it enough to slip inside, finding Pete leaning back against the wall opposite the door with his arms crossed over his chest and expression hard. “What the fuck was that about?” Ryan demanded as soon as he was inside, the door not even completely shut.
“Good to see you too.” Pete huffed, mouth in a straight line.
“Why did you act like you didn’t even know me? Like it’s the first fucking time we’ve ever met?”
“For the same reason you played along.” Pete stared him down; Ryan matching the glare. “There were people present that don’t need to know.”
“Brendon already knows about you.” Ryan scoffed, crossing his own arms tight over his chest.
“Apparently not enough,” Pete muttered, though Ryan could still hear him just fine. The music could be heard inside the bathroom, but it was no louder to Ryan at that moment than a mosquito buzzing a few feet away. All that mattered at this particular moment, all he could hear, was Pete.
“Well it’s nice to hear that you’re getting married tomorrow.” Ryan became bitter and sarcastic. “Glad to know you found that special someone at long last, since I apparently wasn’t good enough.”
At that, Pete pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward, Ryan struggling to keep his ground. “I have tried, more than once, to explain what happened that night, Ryan.” Pete’s voice was low and cold. “But every time I tried, I got hung up on, yelled at, or threatened.”
“What’s to explain?!” Ryan humorously laughed. “You left me the night before what was supposed to be our fucking wedding, for some whore that I later found out you’ve been seeing behind my back for months!”
Pete was quick to close the distance between them, grabbing Ryan’s collar and twisting it around his fisted hand; slamming Ryan back against the wall facing the mirror. “Don’t you say a fucking word about Patrick.” Pete hissed, face inches from Ryan. “And don’t start accusing me of shit when you don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about.”
Ryan tried to push Pete back, but Pete used his free hand to force Ryan’s skinny wrists together, rendering them motionless. “I tried for you, Ryan. Yes, I’d been seeing Patrick for months, and yes, it was behind your back, but not for the reasons that you think.” Ryan continued to struggle, but that only managed to make Pete twist his collar tighter; threatening to choke him.
“I fucking loved you enough to tell you I’d marry you. But I realized that you were fucking miserable with the way I was.” Pete jerked Ryan’s collar to force eye contact. There was definite pain in his eyes, along with anger, but Ryan figured he deserved it. He’d felt plenty of pain and anger for the past year. “So I tried to get help - to clean myself up. Patrick, for your information, was my counselor!” His voice got a bit louder.
That made Ryan freeze, looking for signs of lying in Pete’s face, but couldn’t find any. And he was very good at telling when Pete was lying, after having years of practice. “W-what?” His voice shocked him with how quiet and pathetic sounding it was.
“That’s right, Ross. I wasn’t sleeping with Patrick, I was going to him to talk and get off my fucking addictions to be the kind of husband that you deserved.” If it wasn’t an automatic motion, Ryan probably would have stopped breathing; unable to think of anything at all. “The night before our wedding, I was freaking out, and wanted nothing more than to get wasted enough to be out for days. So when I told you I couldn’t do it, that I was going to Patrick, I didn’t mean I didn’t want to marry you. I meant that I couldn’t do it at that moment because I didn’t have control yet.”
Ryan was frozen a few seconds, processing it, then managed to find his voice again to say, “Well you could have just fucking told me that to begin with!” He was angry again. With good reason. Pete shouldn’t have hid from him. “You could have told me that you wanted to wait because you were trying to get clean, instead of just being gone for hours on end then telling me you were going to some guy named Patrick who I had no fucking idea the identity of!”
“When I tried you wouldn’t listen!”
“Because you tried after you left me clueless and alone that night.” Ryan found the strength to get his wrists free. “After I spent night upon night crying and blaming myself and regretting wasting my time on you to begin with.” He felt like he was going to cry, knowing that it was all a big misunderstanding to begin with, and that maybe right now he would be married to Pete had he listened.
But at the same time, Ryan lost almost all feeling for Pete at that moment because he may not have been lying, but he wasn’t telling Ryan what he was doing anyway. That he didn’t trust Ryan to know he was getting help. “And apparently there was something between you and Patrick since you’re getting married tomorrow.”
Pete’s grip loosened on Ryan, but he still kept him pinned tight against the wall, face inches away. “He knows what I am, and he accepts it, and he helps me get through each day.” Pete’s volume dropped to a low level, though his tone remained hard. “I love him, and he loves me, and we’re going to be happy together.”
“Good for you.”
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t ever stop loving you, Ryan.” There was something about the way the words suddenly became heavy with pain, being whispered with passion and truthful eyes. “That deep down, I won’t ever regret having said yes to you.” Ryan had to look away to stop himself from crying.
At that moment, the bathroom door opened and Brendon came in, starting to say, “Ryan, you’ve been gone-“ but stopping when he saw the two. Pete instantly released Ryan who straightened his shirt and looked down at his feet; squeezing his eyes tightly shut until he was sure the tears wouldn’t come out.
“It’s not what it looked like,” Pete said, almost afraid. Ryan looked up and saw Brendon glaring at Pete with a very angered expression, like he was ready to kill him.
“Bren;” Again Ryan’s voice was timid and quiet. “Let’s just-“
“Did he hurt you?” Brendon demanded, going to Ryan and lifting his chin to look into his eyes, concerned and demanding. Ryan shook his head, moving his head from Brendon’s grip and looking away.
“We were just talking,” Pete said from somewhere behind Ryan.
Brendon looked at Pete, then at Ryan, then back at Pete; eyes widening with a realization that Ryan hoped he wouldn’t find. “Wait; you’re the Pete, aren’t you?” He turned to Ryan for conformation; Ryan’s inability to look him in the eyes being a dead giveaway. “The fucking asshole that put Ryan through hell for years, even before you broke him a year ago!”
“Brendon, just leave it alone,” Ryan said, taking Brendon’s hand to pull him away. Brendon yanked his hand from Ryan’s grip, visibly pissed off, and balled it into a fist.
“And now you have the audacity to ruin his life all over again when he was just starting to get it all back?!” Brendon pretty much shouted, stepping closer to Pete who didn’t so much as flinch, though he could tell how upset the other man was. “Do you know how broken he was when you left him? How untrusting he was? How fucking hard I had to push to break his walls to get him to so much as talk to me?!”
“Brendon-“
“I’m sorry,” Pete said quietly, staying still as Brendon got closer. “I was selfish for doing that to him.” His eyes flicked to Ryan, then back to Brendon. “But I’m glad he has someone like you to give him the love and attention he deserves.”
“Me too.” And the next thing Ryan knew, Pete was on his back on the tile of the bathroom floor, blood running down his nose and chin in a constant stream.
“Brendon!” Ryan’s eyes widened, shocked that Brendon just punched him down.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the fuck out of Ryan’s life for good.” Brendon warned, shaking his hand a bit.
“He didn’t expect to run into me tonight!” Ryan’s anger was directed towards Brendon now. Pete rolled to his side and cupped a hand under his jaw as blood pooled inside it, using his other hand to struggle his way to a standing position. Ryan got some paper towels and went to Pete, handing them to him for the mess. He muttered a weak ‘thanks’, holding them to his nose to try and stop it.
Ryan helped Pete to lean against the wall, keeping a hand on the man’s shoulder just in case the amount of blood loss made him dizzy. When it seemed to slow down, Pete shrugged Ryan off and disappeared into a bathroom stall, Ryan knowing that he could leave now. Brendon had waited by the door, silent, expression not the least bit sorry for what he did.
“Don’t talk to me,” Ryan said a bit harshly, pushing past Brendon and out of the bathroom; heading to the door to go back to the hotel.
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
As soon as they got back to the hotel, Ryan went to the bedroom and shut the door before Brendon could follow. He stripped his clothes and got into the bed, the silk sheets cold against his skin and the mattress incredibly comfortable. It wasn’t that he was terribly mad at Brendon for punching Pete, he deserved it, but it was more he didn’t want Brendon to stand up for him. Ryan had dealt with Pete enough to continue on how things were with his ex, but Brendon punching Pete made things strained.
He curled on his side, hugging one of the many pillows, pondering what Pete had told him. He had never intended to dump Ryan after all. He was getting clean to try and be a good husband. Part of Ryan wanted to forgive him entirely, to try and make him leave Patrick to be with Ryan again.
But then Ryan thought about what Brendon had said. It was true; for years Pete put Ryan through hell, physically and emotionally, and never showed any signs of trying to change. Pete didn’t even tell Ryan when he did decide to get help, expecting Ryan to know or wait for him or whatever else while he secretly got himself help.
“Ryan?” Brendon knocked hesitantly on the door. “Am I…am I sleeping on the couch?” he asked, Ryan’s chest clenching at the way his boyfriend sounded. He had been with Brendon for a year, and not once had Brendon treated him remotely close to how Pete had. Not once has Brendon gotten drunk or high or ditched Ryan for friends. Not once had he yelled at Ryan or hit him or keep things behind his back.
Ryan didn’t answer though, because he really didn’t feel like talking. “Well…goodnight…” he heard Brendon sigh. “I’m sorry I upset you…I’ll see you in the morning…” Ryan could hear Brendon’s footsteps growing soft as he walked away.
Ryan realized in that moment that maybe that whatever was out to get him, really didn’t hate him after all. That maybe it was really helping Ryan. Because if Ryan had never thought that Pete actually had dumped him, he never would have been miserable enough to make Spencer and Jon show up and force him to Hawaii. If he was still with Pete, he would have never met Brendon, nor any of the great people that he calls close friends today.
Truth be told, getting left the night before his wedding was probably the best thing to ever happen to Ryan. Because even if Pete got help, there was no guarantee he wouldn't relapse or be dependent or be even worse than he was before. Now Ryan had Brendon; and he’d never been happier before in his life.
What took years to develop with Pete, took days with Brendon. Love.
Silently sighing, Ryan released the pillow and folded the blanket back, sliding from the bed and padding quietly to the door. The lights were off in the rest of the hotel so he flipped the bedroom light off as well, sliding his feet along the floor towards the living room where he knew he’d find Brendon too.
He could make out Brendon’s curled form on the couch from the lights outside pouring in the window, and used his hands to guide his way towards him. Ryan went to the couch then climbed into the space between the back and Brendon, Brendon moving back a little to give him room. “I’m sorry too,” Ryan whispered, folding one arm beneath his head for a pillow and putting the other over Brendon’s waist.
“I shouldn’t have punched him,” Brendon said, putting his arm over Ryan.
“He deserved it,” Ryan mumbled, Brendon giving a tiny snort as he pulled Ryan a little closer. “I got my facts wrong about what happened that night, but either way, I’m glad this was the outcome.”
“Me too,” Brendon replied with a kiss to Ryan’s forehead. “I love you.”
Ryan smiled, snuggling up to Brendon and shutting his eyes. “I love you too.”
Finale
A/N --- So...that came out longer than I intended...oops? It's like 9,ooo words...
but Pete! And Gabe! And Mikeyway and Geeway and Frankie! :]
Yay me.
Last part soon.
xoxo Tabi
Author: ipanicdaily
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Jon/Spencer, tons more
POV: 3rd; Ryan-centric.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If I owned anyone in this story [beside Mia and Kade], do you honestly think I'd be writing it? No, I'd be out making it happen. :]
Summary: Someone, Ryan decided, was out to make his life hell. Some divine power that he couldn’t see or hear or touch, but certainly managed to get himself at the end of a blunt stick with. Right when he thought he escaped the turmoil of his past, it popped up and smacked him in the face, harder than ever.
Warning: Man/man, language, sex, angst;
Beta: ashxisxrad
Author Notes: Here's part two! Sorry it took so long D:
Past Parts: Two Weeks In Hawaii
Saturday
“I swear to God, Brendon!” Ryan groaned with frustration, tugging at the man’s ankles. “Get your ass up!”
Brendon whined, fingers gripping incredibly tight at the headboard for having woken up only minutes before. Ryan held his breath and pulled at the dead-weight man until his lungs felt ready to collapse, letting go and exhaling. He honestly didn’t expect Brendon to come easily, that’s why he set the alarm for earlier than they actually needed to get up, but Ryan didn’t expect it to be this difficult either.
It was like dealing with a stubborn child, adamant on getting their way.
But Ryan wasn’t about to give in. No way.
Trying a different approach, Ryan climbed back onto the mattress and walked on his knees towards the top, Brendon immediately turning his face the other way. Ryan ignored him and grabbed his pillow, straddling himself over Brendon’s thighs, wailing him as hard as possible with the piece of bedding.
“Get.” smack. “Your ass.” smack. “Up.” smack.
Brendon whined more into his pillow, releasing the headboard to lazily swing his arms back in attempt to stop Ryan. He wasn’t close in actually getting Ryan who continued attacking him, so Brendon shuffled his body around until Ryan fell to the side from Brendon knocking his knee out from under him. Once Ryan was down, Brendon bit back a satisfied smirk and curled tightly into a ball.
“Fine.” Ryan huffed, sliding off the mattress. “I’m going to take a shower. If you don’t get up and ready, I’ll go without you,” he said, heading towards the bathroom. “And if I go alone, I might not come back.” Ryan closed the bathroom door behind him with a loud thud for emphasis.
Ryan, however, had no intention of getting on that plane without Brendon. Or of taking a shower - at least, not yet. Instead, Ryan fished around in the cupboard for one of the large squirt guns they had to hide from Amelia while back when she decided to be a sniper on their balcony, squirting anyone who came over.
He turned on the shower, keeping the water as cold as possible, then opened the chamber to fill it with water; testing the gun on the tile. It shot water in a straight line, a long distance, and actually hurt pretty bad if in a close enough range. Ryan had no idea where Brendon even got it from, it was like a military weapon for water play, but it seemed useful for something at last.
Finger on the trigger, Ryan carefully opened the bathroom door again, leaving the water running and analyzed the situation. As he guessed, Brendon didn’t move, he figured the other man knew there wasn’t a real threat in his words, and slipped out. Being incredibly thin and tiny came in handy when being stealthy, allowing Ryan to sneak across the wooden floor easily.
When he was close enough to deliver a considerable sting to Brendon’s skin with the spray, Ryan aimed for the spot right between Brendon’s shoulder blades and tugged the plastic trigger back as far as it would go. Instantly, a perfect, thin line of water shot out, nailing Brendon right was Ryan had intended.
“Fuck!” Brendon yelled out, startled, jumping and arching his back. Ryan smirked, finger at the ready and raising an eyebrow at Brendon when the shocked brown eyes found his. “What the fuck, Ryan?” he asked, reaching back to try and touch the no doubt reddened skin.
“I told you to get up,” Ryan said, aiming at Brendon’s stomach now. “So you have five seconds,” he warned.
Brendon half frowned, half glared, challenging Ryan.
“Five…” Ryan started to count down. “Four…three…” He moved his arms so the gun was aimed at Brendon’s pelvis instead. “Two…”
“Seriously, Ryan,” Brendon said, flexing his shoulders and wincing. “Don’t-“
“One.” Ryan pulled the trigger again, this time nailing Brendon right in the balls. He didn’t hold the trigger long, releasing it as soon as Brendon cried out in pain. “How about now? Gonna get up?”
“How about I shove that down your throat?” Brendon snapped back, face twisted in agony.
“I’ve got plenty of water left.” Ryan stated, brushing the threat aside and giving the gun a little shake to cause the water inside to slosh around inside for emphasis. “Where would you like it next?”
Releasing himself, Brendon glared at Ryan then slowly moved himself into a somewhat sitting position. “Gonna kill you,” he mumbled, eyes narrowing. Ryan sprayed him quickly in the stomach, just for a moment, then threw the gun at the bed and started for the door.
“You’re going to be sorry!” Brendon called, grabbing the gun and flinching briefly as he stood, running after Ryan. The sad thing was Brendon was a lot quicker than Ryan, so he caught him relatively fast, hosing Ryan down with icy water until Ryan’s brown hair was dripping; the man laughing despite his stinging body.
Now downstairs, Brendon straddled Ryan who had fallen to the ground, holding the empty gun like a solider and smiling. “You’re my prisoner now,” he said to Ryan.
Ryan calmed himself and pushed his upper body forward, supporting himself with his hands, and kissed Brendon who, after a moment, tossed the toy aside to hold Ryan. They stayed like that for a few moments before Brendon pulled away, standing up and reaching down to Ryan to help him.
“You’re wasting water,” he said as he pulled Ryan up. “You’re a danger to our earth.”
“I think we’ve got enough water to spare a little,” Ryan said, brushing his wet bangs aside.
“Hmm,” Brendon hummed, suddenly hauling Ryan over his shoulder. “You’re still my prisoner,” he told Ryan, heading for the stairs. “And your crime is certainly punishable.” His voice was incredibly hinting.
“We need to leave soon!” Ryan protested, all-too-used to getting carried over Brendon’s shoulder now.
“Soon is plenty of time,” Brendon said, smacking Ryan’s thigh and heading up the stairs.
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
Somehow, despite a rather interesting morning, they managed to make their plane. Even if Brendon decided to drive rather slow and take forever to find somewhere in the proper lot to park. Ryan made him carry all their bags, the three or four they had, as his own punishment; Ryan was kind of sore anyway.
Between getting doused in icy cold water by an overly powerful water gun, and Brendon’s punishment, Ryan was amazed he could even move.
“I haven’t been on plane in years…” Brendon mused, stretching out and making himself comfortable in the seat. Since he bought the tickets, he decided they were going to travel first class, even if doing so cost a bunch of extra money that essentially amounted to one big waste. Sure, there was a bit more room, and there were a few small luxuries, but Ryan would have been just fine in coach.
He hated when Brendon used his wealth for unnecessary things. Even if Brendon made it so Ryan had access to his money as well; along with setting up a private account for Ryan as Brendon had done for Amelia and even for William.
“I could have said, ‘I haven’t in six months’, if someone didn’t feel like celebrating Christmas for a week straight,” Ryan said, buckling himself in after assuring Spencer that, yes, we’re on the goddamn plane so we’ll see you in a few hours, you annoying bitch, and turning his phone off.
“What can I say?” Brendon shrugged. “I’m a very festive guy.” He grinned that adorably cheesy grin that Ryan could never be mat, no matter how hard he tried.
“I think you have multiple personalities,” Ryan teased, watching the others board and pass by them for their own seats.
“You love them all,” Brendon said. “Especially good cop with a bad coc-“ Ryan quickly clamped his hand over Brendon’s mouth.
“Shut up,” he hissed, “Or you won’t have good or bad, you’ll have nothing,” he warned.
Removing his hand, Ryan wiped his palm on his jeans and pretended not to notice Brendon’s pout by looking out the small window, waiting for the plane to leave.
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
“No!” Ryan said louder than the other times, the flight attendant looking suspiciously at him. “For the hundredth time,” he lowered his voice, looking at the book in his lap, “we are not joining the mile high club.”
“But I’ve always wanted to!” Brendon whined, unable to stay still in his seat. Not having to wear your seatbelt once the plane was at a proper altitude, Ryan learned, was not an ideal thing in their situation. “It’s a very fun club…”He put a hand on Ryan’s upper thigh again. “Everyone becomes a member at some point…”
“I will bite your hand off,” Ryan said flatly without moving his eyes from the paper.
“Please?” Brendon begged, moving his hand farther up regardless.
“No,” Ryan repeated with little patience. “If you want to join so bad, you have two hands.” He shoved Brendon’s hand back towards his own body. “Go crazy.”
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
They couldn’t have reached Vegas any slower, Ryan miserably thought. Brendon didn’t give up the entire however many hours they were in the air with his pursuit in the pair having some kind of sex and officially becoming part of what everyone knows as the ‘mile high club’. He kept suggesting various things, fidgeting in his seat, touching Ryan wherever he could until Ryan would get irritated enough to slap his hands away; he really pushed his limits with Ryan’s patience. But they landed without Ryan’s hands wrapped around Brendon’s throat, and that was a good thing.
“What do you think would have happened if there were like…snakes on the plane, or something?” Brendon thought out loud as they walked the tunnel from the plane to the airport; being pretty much the first ones off.
“I think that if you don’t shut up, very bad things are going to happen,” Ryan said, letting Brendon take his hand and leading him, for once.
As soon as they rounded the corner, able to see the always crowded airport, Ryan spotted Spencer; the other man leaning against a window looking out to the flight strips with his arms crossed. For a moment Ryan was frozen, only moving when people behind them got irritated and when Spencer’s bitchface managed to get fiercer.
Letting go of Brendon, Ryan made his way to his friend and hugged him tight, nearly forgetting Brendon was even there. It had been a year since Ryan had seen Spencer - his best friend since he could walk and who, at the moment, took priority over everything else. The longest they had ever gone without seeing each other was a few days, usually over some stupid, petty fight, so this was important. And for a moment, the world seemed to stop, and it was as though nothing at all had changed over the past twelve months.
That was until Ryan realized, “God, Spence!” and pulled back to look his friend over. “You’re so thin now!” Spencer hand never been fat, but there had been a lot more of him a year ago. Now Ryan kind of felt like he was hugging a pole. Or like he was hugging himself.
“Yeah.” Spencer smiled, blue eyes sparkling brighter than ever. “I met this guy named Zack who’s really awesome. He works at this music place down the street from the studio. But anyway, we got talking one day and now we go to the gym and on runs and shit.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “And his boyfriend, also oddly named Rian, only spelled R-I-A-N, is a drummer!” Spencer pretty much fangirled.
Ryan laughed, trying not to start crying for multiple reasons. “Sounds like true love,” he teased, Spencer playfully shoving him. “As long as I haven’t been replaced…” his voice got scared and quiet, Spencer’s smile dropping quickly.
“Never, Ry.” Spencer shook his head, looking right into Ryan’s eyes. Ryan still felt off, though.
“You look really good,” Brendon said from off to the side, Spencer’s eyes telling Ryan that they’d talk later before he let Ryan go to grab Brendon and hug him.
“You too,” Spencer replied, patting his back. “Though I could kill you for ditching at Christmas.”
“There was so much to celebrate that we accidentally missed the plane.” Brendon simply grinned.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m sure.”
“Where’s Jon?” Ryan asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Studio.” Spencer frowned, lips pursed. “You probably won’t see him until tomorrow. The only reason I see him every day anymore is because we live together and he ends up home eventually.”
Brendon glanced at his watch. “We should get a move on; we’re supposed to check into the hotel by five and we should get situated before doing anything else.”
“I still don’t get why you couldn’t stay with us,” Spencer said with disappointment.
“Sorry, but knowing you’re a room or so over would make sex very awkward.” Brendon answered, patting Spencer’s shoulder then heading off in the direction the signs stated was luggage claim.
“He’s been like this all morning,” Ryan mumbled, watching his boyfriend leave.
“And you’ve been denying him, haven’t you?”
“Spencer Smith,” Ryan looped his arm with Spencer’s, grinning, “You know me all too well.”
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
“This place is nicer than my apartment!” Spencer complained as the three walked into the penthouse suite that Brendon rented for the weekend. Ryan couldn’t even think about the price per night that it cost. And he had given up a while ago in fighting Brendon over the whole financial everything. They settled on Ryan paying for minor things with his own money, such as dinners and clothes and even a few bills, while Brendon could occasionally splurge on pleasantries such as the hotel.
“Reminds me of The Hangover,” he added as he set one of their bags down.
“Well we are in the heart of Vegas,” Ryan said emotionlessly. “And that movie was stupid.”
“You’re stupid.” Spencer scowled and playfully stuck his tongue out at his friend. “Don’t ask me for help when you wake up to a lion and a baby in the morning, then.” Ryan scowled back with a small, unthreatening glare.
“I’m going to call Bill and tell him we’re here,” Brendon said after taking a quick look around, pulling out his phone. Ryan nodded and started to survey their surroundings as well while Brendon slipped out onto the balcony. There was a lot of space; a living room set up in the middle with long couches and a flat-screen television, a kitchen with barstools and wineglasses overhead, a hot tub in the corner; Ryan had to bite back a grin because, though he’d never admit it, he felt a bit like he was on the top of the world.
This was one of those moments where Ryan kind of wanted to brag about dating someone with money. But that was wrong, and really, most days Ryan was able to forget about that little detail anyway, because he loved Brendon for so much more.
“I know you hate the whole money thing, Ry,” Spencer followed his friend towards the kitchen, “But you know he just wants to make you happy.”
Ryan turned to face Spencer, soft smile on his mouth. “He does.” He looked out the open glass door to the balcony where Brendon was leaning on the railing and happily chatting away. “But not because he spends money on me all the time.”
“Still,” Spencer sighed and leaned on the counter, “It’s nice.” Ryan studied his friend for a moment before frowning, moving to be opposite him at the counter.
“Spence, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Spencer forced a smile, avoiding eye contact by looking down at his folded hands.
Ryan’s face was less than amused, knowing that his friend was lying. “Spencer.” His tone was hard and demanding; the same tone he would use when they were younger and Spencer would find it fun to hide Ryan’s toys on him when he was bored.
“It’s just…” Spencer took a deep breath, exhaling harshly. “Ever since Jon got that studio, I see less and less of him. He leaves early in the morning and doesn’t come home until it’s completely dark out.” He frowned, biting his lip. “I know the studio is a big deal for him, but I miss him too, you know? And if I call his cell I get his voicemail. If I show up, he ushers me out…”
“Jon loves you, Spence,” Ryan said softly, reaching out to rub Spencer’s shoulder.
“I know.” Spencer gave a small smile. “But sometimes I wonder what’s more important to him; me or his work.”
“After tomorrow,” Ryan assured Spencer, “The studio will be at the back of his mind again. He’s just working really hard to make a good opening because it’s his big break.” Ryan hadn’t gotten any better at the inspirational speaking, but when it came to Spencer, his best friend and practical brother, he would do anything to make him feel better. Just like Spencer would him.
“His studio is his shiny new toy;” Dealing with literature on a near daily basis made Ryan think of comparisons and similes on a near constant basis. “Sure, it’s getting all his attention right now, but in a few days it’ll lose that appeal and he’ll go back to devoting all his time to what he’s always had and loved; you.” Spencer’s smile grew a little, but Ryan could still tell he was upset; doubting.
“You remember that movie?” Ryan asked, giving it one last try. “Toy Story, I think it’s called?” Ryan leaned on his elbows on the counter. “Well anyway, you’re like that cowboy toy and the studio is like that space character and Jon is the boy you rarely see. For a while, the studio is going to get all the attention because it’s new and exciting. But in the end, you’re what he’s loves the most, and if anything ever happened to you you know he would be devastated. Like the kid in the movie was when he couldn’t find the cowboy dude.”
Spencer started laughing, head dropping down to his hands for a moment before he stood up and shook his head. “Just how much Disney are you forced to watch?” he asked through his laughter, Ryan trying to frown but smiling because at least Spencer seemed to feel better.
“Too much,” he answered with a slow nod of his own head. “I don’t know who’s worse with it, either; Brendon or Amelia.” Ryan stood up straight and looked seriously at Spencer who wiped briefly at his eyes, lips pulled back in a grin as he came off his laughing high. “But the concept is the same, Spence; you’re what Jon cares the most about. You just have to be patient and wait for his temporary obsession to pass.”
Spencer’s laughter died down gradually, blue eyes shining and giving a small nod. He knew the truth, he was just having doubts. Ryan had been there many times, Spencer always reminding him that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. “I really miss you, Ry,” Spencer said quietly; just above a whisper.
“I miss you too, Spence,” Ryan replied. It was the little things that Ryan missed most. Stupid reassurances like this that didn’t have the same effect over the phone and therefore could only work in person. For a moment Ryan wondered where along the way Spencer had started having these doubts, when he started to break, because Ryan never picked up on it when they had talked over the phone. But Spencer was good at hiding his feelings when he tried hard enough - his eyes being his biggest giveaway.
And over the phone, obviously, Ryan couldn’t see his eyes.
“Well,” Brendon walked back inside, pocketing his phone, “Apparently Mia is over the fact that she couldn’t come with us.” He smiled, joining them and putting his arms around Ryan’s waist; leaning his chin on Ryan’s shoulder and facing Spencer. “Told me to bring her back presents,” Ryan rolled his eyes, “And to make sure Spencer is nice to you or else.”
Spencer scoffed. “I’m a sweetheart!”
“Yeah,” Ryan snorted, “A real saint.” He and Spencer shared a final moment with their eyes, both smiling.
“Did I miss something?” Brendon asked, looking between them as he released Ryan to stand more beside him than behind him.
“Nope,” Spencer said, leaning sideways on the counter now with his left arm folded slightly beneath him. “Just a little catching up between friends.” Ryan hummed in agreement, nodding. “You know,” Spencer gave a mock-angered look to Brendon, “Since you stole him from me.”
“Yep.” Brendon proudly grinned, putting his arms around Ryan’s shoulders protectively. “And I’m not giving him back, either.” He was only half joking, pressing his face into Ryan’s shoulder.
“That’s okay.” Spencer stood up and as his phone started to go off. “It’s nicer without him,” he teased, flipping it open and reading what Ryan knew was a text message by the tone.
“I think that counts as being mean to me,” Ryan said, fake pouting and leaning his head on Brendon’s. “Go kick his ass.” Brendon laughed into his shoulder, squeezing him a little tighter.
“I gotta go,” Spencer said, shutting his phone but smiling with both his eyes and mouth. Ryan knew that the message had to be from Jon. “I’ll leave you two to your palace, and I’ll see you for breakfast in the morning?” he asked, walking backwards towards the door and working his keys from his pocket.
“If we’re up,” Brendon replied with a sly grin.
“Have fun,” Ryan said, taking his head off Brendon as the younger man released him.
“You too.” Spencer nodded. “Don’t let Brendon wander too far or you may never see him again,” he joked as he opened the door.
“I’ll keep a leash on him,” Ryan promised while leaving the kitchen and heading towards one of the couches; pulling Brendon along with him as emphasis since Brendon had laced their fingers together anyway.
Spencer waved and left, pulling the door behind him, leaving the two alone in the large penthouse.
“So…” Brendon pushed Ryan back so he was pressed against the couch. “There are lots of fun things in here to play with,” he said, sliding his fingers into the loop holes of Ryan’s jeans and tugging his hips forward. “And you promised that if I was a good boy we could play.”
“I don’t think trying to get into my pants the entire flight counts as ‘good’,” Ryan said with a raised eyebrow, putting his arms around Brendon’s neck for support since Brendon was leaning him back over the couch some. “And you were a bitch to get up this morning.”
“But we made the plane,” Brendon pointed out, pressing his lips to Ryan’s. “S’farther than last time,” he muttered against Ryan’s mouth. Ryan smiled, kissing his boyfriend back for a moment, almost deciding to give in but stuck to his original plan and let his head fall back out of Brendon’s reach.
“I’m going to have to go with you were bad, and therefore undeserving of play time,” he said. Brendon pouted, giving a small whine. “But,” Ryan grinned, “You can redeem yourself before the night’s over.”
“Oh yeah?” Brendon kissed Ryan’s collarbone since it’s all he could reach. “How so?” he asked, warm breath tickling Ryan some.
“I know this great club about five or ten minutes from here that I haven’t been to in years.” Ryan made Brendon stand up so he could straighten his back as it began to ache from the angle it was at. “Survive a couple of hours there, with minimal complaints, and we’ll let Spencer kill us for missing breakfast.”
Brendon looked him in the eye, contemplating the offer, slowly kissing Ryan and making a very light humming noise. “And if I refuse?”
Ryan released Brendon’s neck and pushed his hands off his hips, stepping to the side then heading backwards towards the door. “One of these suitcases,” he gestured at the bags on the floor as he passed, “Will stay closed the entire weekend.”
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
Someone, Ryan decided, was out to make his life hell. Some divine power that he couldn’t see or hear or touch, but certainly managed to get himself at the end of a blunt stick with. Right when he thought he escaped the turmoil of his past, it popped up and smacked him in the face, harder than ever.
See, at the time, going to the club seemed like a good idea and nice way to expose Brendon to an entirely different world. The thumping music was loud enough to feel in your chest, the flashing lights quick enough to cause a series of seizures, and the sweaty bodies packed tight enough to remind you of those times you went to see your favorite band and got lost somewhere in the moshpit because fuck, it was worth it.
Ryan wasn’t much of a clubber, but it’d been well over a year since he’d gone and he had this craving to go once again; even if only to regret it later when his head felt ready to explode.
The pair was at the club for maybe ten minutes, enjoying some drink that Ryan forgot the name of, but was colorful (or was that the lights around them?) and rather alcoholic, when that higher power against Ryan thrust a very happy Gabe at them from fucking nowhere. One minute Ryan was sipping on his drink and enjoying the loud music, and the next he was choking and jumping as a pair of long arms circled him.
“Oh my god, Ryan and Brendon!” was practically shouted into his ear as his spine was nearly cracked in half. “I thought you stayed down south!” Gabe lingered a moment before releasing Ryan and doing the same to Brendon - completely against his will. “What’re ya doin’ in Vegas?!”
Brendon, frowning, shoved Gabe off, mouthing ‘you okay?’ to Ryan as he tried to breathe in air and not his drink. Ryan nodded, finally stopping, running the back of his hand along his mouth then blinking his eyes a few times since tears had gathered. Gabe leaned on the small circular table between them, patiently waiting an answer.
“Jon,” Ryan said, breathing carefully. “He’s got a gallery opening tomorrow.”
“Sweet!” Gabe flashed a toothy grin. Ryan took a moment to look him over because, well, he was almost a completely different person than a year ago, it seemed. At least with looks. Gabe wore a baseball cap turned somewhat sideways, the design unreadable, and white framed glasses. His jeans were tight, and his shirt was some plaid design. On his left wrist, Ryan was quick to notice after, right under Gabe’s folded hands, was the bracelet that William had handed back to him the night before Ryan was supposed to return to Vegas.
“It’s weird runnin’ into you!” Gabe continued grinning madly. “Like, what’re the chances, ya know?”
“Not really,” Brendon replied over the music. “We’re not far from where you live, Gabe.”
Gabe laughed, shaking his head, making Brendon and Ryan share a confused look. “I don’t live in Vegas no more,” he said, resting his chin in his palms as he supported his head up. “I’ve been in New York since the new year.” His laughter died down as he noticed the confusion. “They never told you?” Gabe cocked his head.
“Who?” Ryan had no idea what Gabe was talking about.
“Oh shit.” Gabe frowned now, dropping his hands and standing almost straight. “I thought you knew…”
“Knew what?” Brendon’s tone was a mixture of confusion, frustration, and anger.
“Alex ‘n Nate - I’ve been stayin’ with them the past few months,” Gabe said, seemingly shocked that neither knew. “I mean, I asked them not to tell you why, ‘cause I didn’t want him to know;” The emphasis on ‘him’ was clearly a reference to William. “But I thought they at least told you I was there…”
“Nope.” Brendon was mostly angry now. “They never so much as even mentioned you.”
“Why’d you move out to New York?” Ryan asked before he could stop himself. The alcohol probably had a good part in that.
Gabe looked down at the table, rubbing the back of his neck; hesitant to reply. “I got myself into a lot of trouble and lost just about everything.” Ryan could barely hear him over the ambient noise. “After a few nights in jail, Alex came and told me to come stay with him and Nate. It was too painful here anyway, you know?”
“So now you get trashed in New York?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Ryan kicked Brendon under the table to tell him to stop being an ass.
“No.” Gabe’s smile returned as he shook his head briefly. “Realized that he was right and that I needed help so I found some in New York. Haven’t touched a drink in months.” He grinned.
“Good for you.” Ryan smiled. One less alcoholic in the world was a very good thing.
“If New York is so great for you, why are you back here?” Apparently Brendon didn’t get the hint, and Ryan was tempted to kick him again.
“Wedding!”
“For who?” Ryan and Brendon asked almost at the same time.
“A good friend of my boy’s,” Gabe answered; a sudden dawning expression taking over his face. “Oh, fuck! You gotta meet my boy!” And before Ryan or Brendon could even so much as process the words, they were being dragged through the crowds towards the private booths in back.
The bouncer or whatever he was granted Gabe entrance; that alone surprising Ryan as he stumbled behind Gabe who not only gripped tightly at their arms, but also forgot that he had considerably longer legs and that when he moved, especially quickly, people had difficulties keeping up. Gabe took them to a booth in the corner where three men sat talking; all of which looked a bit off-putting.
Gabe released both of them and slid into the booth beside the man with his own white frame glasses and choppy brown hair; pulling him into a more-than-friendly kiss. Not that people really go around kissing their friends. Ryan was surprised by the sight, but he was also a little relieved, because it looked like Gabe had moved on and found someone new after all.
“Ry, Bren,” he looked up at them as he looped an arm around the other man’s shoulders, “This is Mikey; my boo and the savior of my life.” The man - Mikey - looked up at them with a thoughtful expression. “Mikes, these are Ryan and Brendon; two of the guys I told you about from when I was in Hawaii last summer.”
“Yeah.” Mikey nodded, staring at them. “I remember. Brendon…you’re the guy with a lot of inherited money and who’s best friends with Gabey’s ex.” He looked Brendon up and down.
“His name is William.” Brendon bit out. Ryan saw Gabe flinch a little at the name, reaching for Brendon’s hand and giving it a single squeeze.
“And that makes you Ryan.” Mikey’s eyes moved to him next. “The one originally from around here, but gave it all up to stay in Hawaii with Brendon.” His voice was emotionless. Ryan just nodded.
“Join us!” Gabe said, gesturing with his free hand to the seat across from him. “Sit and chat for a while!” Ryan could tell Brendon didn’t want to, and actually, neither did he, but they were being stared at, and Gabe looked so happy - last time Ryan saw the man, Gabe was broken and in tears - so he took the initiative and slowly sat; Brendon reluctantly sat as well.
“That’s Gerard, Mikey’s older brother.” Gabe introduced the man with semi-long black hair and incredibly pale skin who gave them an awkward smile. “And that’s Frank;” Gabe gestured towards the tattooed man next to Gerard who was chewing on his lip ring, “Gerard’s best-friend-boyfriend-sponsor or whatever the fuck they decide to call themselves this week.”
“Sponsor?” Ryan questioned.
“Fuck; forgot to mention that too!” Gabe shifted some in his seat. “Remember how I told you I moved to New York?” They nodded. “So, in rehab, or group, whatever the fuck you wanna call it, you get a sponsor - someone who understands what you’re going through and helps you work through the rough times and helps you get back on the right track.” Gabe explained. “Frank is Gerard’s sponsor.”
“And I’m Gabey’s,” Mikey said after with a proud smirk, leaning against Gabe comfortably.
“So what brings you back here?” Frank asked, using one arm to prop his head up.
“A, um, friend’s gallery opening,” Ryan said. “Tomorrow.”
“What kind of gallery?” Gerard asked, his voice startling Ryan because he wasn’t even aware the man was listening. Gerard seemed to be pulled into himself, hiding behind his hair and dark clothing.
“Photography,” he responded. Gerard nodded, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward, engaging Ryan in eye contact.
“What kind of photography does your friend do?”
“Gee’s an artist,” Frank said with a small, but proud smile. “Creates comics and cartoons and shit.”
“That’s cool.” Ryan slowly nodded a few times. “And he does a lot of portraiture; kind of. He hasn’t really done it in a professional setting yet, ‘cause until now he hasn’t had the space to do so, but he’s always taking pictures of people.” Ryan could tell that Gerard was focused and interested in what he was saying. “The uh, opening, is open to anyone,” he offered.
“We’ve got a wedding to be at tomorrow so maybe next time.” Mikey commented from his seat. “Right Gee?”
“This is his second wedding.” Gerard snorted, falling back against the seat again. “And you know we don’t even get along. Why do I have to be there?”
“Because you’re my brother and he’s my best friend.” Mikey scowled.
“Your best friend.” Gerard crossed his arms again. Brendon squeezed at Ryan’s hand, telling Ryan he wanted to leave, but Ryan felt like they should stay a few more minutes so he rubbed his thumb over his boyfriend’s knuckles as their hands remained joined beneath the table.
Really, Ryan should have listened to Brendon’s uncomfortable body language and returned to the overcrowded dance floor and bar, because that damn higher power out to get Ryan really made his life hell all over again in a matter of the five minutes following Brendon’s silent plea to leave. Maybe something else had told Brendon to get Ryan to leave, and Ryan chose to ignore it, but either way, Ryan never would have guessed what came next.
“Sorry I was gone so long.” Six words, nonthreatening and rather meaningless on their own, stopped Ryan’s breathing and upped the pace of his heart, forcing him to grab tighter at Brendon’s hand as he looked to the new addition to the table.
Standing there, grinning widely and looking exactly as Ryan remembered, was none other than Pete-fucking-Wentz. His ex-fiancé.
“Did you guys miss me?” he asked, not yet noticing Ryan’s presence.
“Of course,” Gabe said with a smirk, right as Ryan heard Gerard mutter, ‘no’. “We got some company.” He gestured towards Brendon and Ryan, Pete following with his eyes; face paling when he and Ryan made eye contact. For a second, Ryan thought he saw Pete’s eyes flash, maybe with regret or hurt or even anger, Ryan wanting to look away but unable to so much as blink, let alone actually do so. “They’re old friends,” Gabe told him.
“Ghosts of the past.” It was almost like a subconscious response, Pete keeping contact a moment longer before pulling on a smile again, fake at best, acting as though there was nothing unusual about it at all. “That’s cool,” he said, looking to Brendon then to everyone else. “The more the merrier, right?”
“Exactly!” Gabe didn’t pick up on anything, and as Ryan briefly glanced at the other men, no one else did either. “That’s Brendon,” Gabe pointed to Ryan’s left, “And that’s his boyfriend, Ryan.” He pointed at Ryan next. “They’re from Hawaii, here for a friend’s gallery opening.”
“Nice to meet you,” Pete said, offering his hand to Brendon and forcing Brendon to release Ryan’s hand to shake it. Pete acted like Ryan was too far away to shake Ryan’s hand, as though he didn’t want to be rude and reach over the table, and Ryan didn’t know which he felt more; shock, or anger.
Pete was acting as though they didn’t even know each other; that they were never dating, and that they were never once engaged. That he never left Ryan the night before their wedding for some guy named Patrick.
“Pete’s the one getting married tomorrow,” Gabe informed the two, moving over a bit to give Pete a spot to sit.
“Really.” It wasn’t a question, it was hardly even spoken, and Brendon’s hand found Ryan’s again with a little squeeze as though to ask if he was okay. Ryan wasn’t okay. He was looking at the man that he once loved, that he once cleaned up after and lied for and nearly lost his best friend over. The man that promised Ryan a life together, then left him for someone else on what was supposed to be the best day in Ryan’s life.
No, Ryan was absolutely not okay.
But what could he do? Pete clearly wanted to play stranger, act like they never knew each other, and the last thing Ryan wanted was a scene by calling Pete out on it, so he just had to sit there and play stupid as well. Even if it was eating away at him.
“Congratulations,” Brendon offered, and Ryan kind of wanted to smack him. It wasn’t Brendon’s thought though. How would he know this was that Pete? All he knew of Ryan’s past boyfriend was his name. Not what he looked like, and certainly not who his friends were.
And that’s when Ryan realized that he knew Mikey already too. Kind of. He had never actually met the guy, but he had heard plenty about him, and had talked to him before over the phone. Even then Mikey seemed to hate him. Though it didn’t seem Mikey realized it was him. Ryan is a very common name, after all, and since Pete was playing stupid…
“Thanks.” Pete smiled, eyes flicking momentarily to Ryan, but going back to Brendon when he realized Ryan was staring at him. Angrily. “Feels great, too. Like I finally found the one person I know I’ll be happy with the rest of my life, you know?”
“Yeah;” Ryan was too quick to reply. “I know how that feels.”
“Me too,” Brendon said, lifting their joined hands up to kiss Ryan’s hand; Ryan hardly noticing as he watched Pete’s expression harden instead. Good, he thought. He hoped maybe Pete was feeling what Ryan felt for the past year. The pain, the regret; the jealousy.
“So how long you two been together?” Pete asked, waving his finger between the two.
“A year,” Ryan replied as Brendon lowered their hands again. “I went to Hawaii on vacation, intent on forgetting a conceded asshole, and ended up falling for Brenny during my two weeks there.” Pete’s expression hardened a little more, and Ryan fought to keep himself from smirking. “And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”
“Sounds like true love.” Pete’s words were practically sarcastic. Though it was hard to tell with all the background noise of the club.
“Maybe you two will be next.” Gabe used that suggestive tone; eyes twinkling for a moment. Ryan paid him no attention though.
“Maybe,” Brendon said, tone all-too-hopeful.
Pete suddenly stood again, moving some of his growing hair out of his face. “I’ll be right back,” he said, fixing the strings of his hoodie after. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” With the final word, he looked directly at Ryan, eyes beckoning him, then turned and disappeared.
“Are we almost done here?” Gerard asked with a bit of a whining tone.
“We’re staying until Pete wants to leave.” Mikey frowned at his brother. “We’re here for him, Gee.”
“He doesn’t care about us, though.” Frank spoke up, looking bored and tired. “Can’t we go back to the hotel and you two stay?”
“You just want to go have sex.” Gabe scoffed, smirking still. “Admit it.”
“As if you don’t.” Frank commented back, rolling his eyes. “You’re not as discreet as you think you are.”
“I gotta pee,” Ryan announced rather loudly, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation, and wanting to get to the bottom of this shit with Pete. He got some odd looks, because did he honestly have to announce it? But Ryan didn’t care because he just needed to get to that bathroom where Pete was waiting for him.
Brendon looked apprehensive to be left alone, sliding from the booth to let Ryan out, sharing a look with him to tell him to please hurry. Ryan nodded, giving Brendon a quick kiss as though to reassure him, then nearly ran towards his bathroom; weaving between the people effortlessly due to his thin stature.
When he reached the door labeled ‘mens’, Ryan opened it enough to slip inside, finding Pete leaning back against the wall opposite the door with his arms crossed over his chest and expression hard. “What the fuck was that about?” Ryan demanded as soon as he was inside, the door not even completely shut.
“Good to see you too.” Pete huffed, mouth in a straight line.
“Why did you act like you didn’t even know me? Like it’s the first fucking time we’ve ever met?”
“For the same reason you played along.” Pete stared him down; Ryan matching the glare. “There were people present that don’t need to know.”
“Brendon already knows about you.” Ryan scoffed, crossing his own arms tight over his chest.
“Apparently not enough,” Pete muttered, though Ryan could still hear him just fine. The music could be heard inside the bathroom, but it was no louder to Ryan at that moment than a mosquito buzzing a few feet away. All that mattered at this particular moment, all he could hear, was Pete.
“Well it’s nice to hear that you’re getting married tomorrow.” Ryan became bitter and sarcastic. “Glad to know you found that special someone at long last, since I apparently wasn’t good enough.”
At that, Pete pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward, Ryan struggling to keep his ground. “I have tried, more than once, to explain what happened that night, Ryan.” Pete’s voice was low and cold. “But every time I tried, I got hung up on, yelled at, or threatened.”
“What’s to explain?!” Ryan humorously laughed. “You left me the night before what was supposed to be our fucking wedding, for some whore that I later found out you’ve been seeing behind my back for months!”
Pete was quick to close the distance between them, grabbing Ryan’s collar and twisting it around his fisted hand; slamming Ryan back against the wall facing the mirror. “Don’t you say a fucking word about Patrick.” Pete hissed, face inches from Ryan. “And don’t start accusing me of shit when you don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about.”
Ryan tried to push Pete back, but Pete used his free hand to force Ryan’s skinny wrists together, rendering them motionless. “I tried for you, Ryan. Yes, I’d been seeing Patrick for months, and yes, it was behind your back, but not for the reasons that you think.” Ryan continued to struggle, but that only managed to make Pete twist his collar tighter; threatening to choke him.
“I fucking loved you enough to tell you I’d marry you. But I realized that you were fucking miserable with the way I was.” Pete jerked Ryan’s collar to force eye contact. There was definite pain in his eyes, along with anger, but Ryan figured he deserved it. He’d felt plenty of pain and anger for the past year. “So I tried to get help - to clean myself up. Patrick, for your information, was my counselor!” His voice got a bit louder.
That made Ryan freeze, looking for signs of lying in Pete’s face, but couldn’t find any. And he was very good at telling when Pete was lying, after having years of practice. “W-what?” His voice shocked him with how quiet and pathetic sounding it was.
“That’s right, Ross. I wasn’t sleeping with Patrick, I was going to him to talk and get off my fucking addictions to be the kind of husband that you deserved.” If it wasn’t an automatic motion, Ryan probably would have stopped breathing; unable to think of anything at all. “The night before our wedding, I was freaking out, and wanted nothing more than to get wasted enough to be out for days. So when I told you I couldn’t do it, that I was going to Patrick, I didn’t mean I didn’t want to marry you. I meant that I couldn’t do it at that moment because I didn’t have control yet.”
Ryan was frozen a few seconds, processing it, then managed to find his voice again to say, “Well you could have just fucking told me that to begin with!” He was angry again. With good reason. Pete shouldn’t have hid from him. “You could have told me that you wanted to wait because you were trying to get clean, instead of just being gone for hours on end then telling me you were going to some guy named Patrick who I had no fucking idea the identity of!”
“When I tried you wouldn’t listen!”
“Because you tried after you left me clueless and alone that night.” Ryan found the strength to get his wrists free. “After I spent night upon night crying and blaming myself and regretting wasting my time on you to begin with.” He felt like he was going to cry, knowing that it was all a big misunderstanding to begin with, and that maybe right now he would be married to Pete had he listened.
But at the same time, Ryan lost almost all feeling for Pete at that moment because he may not have been lying, but he wasn’t telling Ryan what he was doing anyway. That he didn’t trust Ryan to know he was getting help. “And apparently there was something between you and Patrick since you’re getting married tomorrow.”
Pete’s grip loosened on Ryan, but he still kept him pinned tight against the wall, face inches away. “He knows what I am, and he accepts it, and he helps me get through each day.” Pete’s volume dropped to a low level, though his tone remained hard. “I love him, and he loves me, and we’re going to be happy together.”
“Good for you.”
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t ever stop loving you, Ryan.” There was something about the way the words suddenly became heavy with pain, being whispered with passion and truthful eyes. “That deep down, I won’t ever regret having said yes to you.” Ryan had to look away to stop himself from crying.
At that moment, the bathroom door opened and Brendon came in, starting to say, “Ryan, you’ve been gone-“ but stopping when he saw the two. Pete instantly released Ryan who straightened his shirt and looked down at his feet; squeezing his eyes tightly shut until he was sure the tears wouldn’t come out.
“It’s not what it looked like,” Pete said, almost afraid. Ryan looked up and saw Brendon glaring at Pete with a very angered expression, like he was ready to kill him.
“Bren;” Again Ryan’s voice was timid and quiet. “Let’s just-“
“Did he hurt you?” Brendon demanded, going to Ryan and lifting his chin to look into his eyes, concerned and demanding. Ryan shook his head, moving his head from Brendon’s grip and looking away.
“We were just talking,” Pete said from somewhere behind Ryan.
Brendon looked at Pete, then at Ryan, then back at Pete; eyes widening with a realization that Ryan hoped he wouldn’t find. “Wait; you’re the Pete, aren’t you?” He turned to Ryan for conformation; Ryan’s inability to look him in the eyes being a dead giveaway. “The fucking asshole that put Ryan through hell for years, even before you broke him a year ago!”
“Brendon, just leave it alone,” Ryan said, taking Brendon’s hand to pull him away. Brendon yanked his hand from Ryan’s grip, visibly pissed off, and balled it into a fist.
“And now you have the audacity to ruin his life all over again when he was just starting to get it all back?!” Brendon pretty much shouted, stepping closer to Pete who didn’t so much as flinch, though he could tell how upset the other man was. “Do you know how broken he was when you left him? How untrusting he was? How fucking hard I had to push to break his walls to get him to so much as talk to me?!”
“Brendon-“
“I’m sorry,” Pete said quietly, staying still as Brendon got closer. “I was selfish for doing that to him.” His eyes flicked to Ryan, then back to Brendon. “But I’m glad he has someone like you to give him the love and attention he deserves.”
“Me too.” And the next thing Ryan knew, Pete was on his back on the tile of the bathroom floor, blood running down his nose and chin in a constant stream.
“Brendon!” Ryan’s eyes widened, shocked that Brendon just punched him down.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the fuck out of Ryan’s life for good.” Brendon warned, shaking his hand a bit.
“He didn’t expect to run into me tonight!” Ryan’s anger was directed towards Brendon now. Pete rolled to his side and cupped a hand under his jaw as blood pooled inside it, using his other hand to struggle his way to a standing position. Ryan got some paper towels and went to Pete, handing them to him for the mess. He muttered a weak ‘thanks’, holding them to his nose to try and stop it.
Ryan helped Pete to lean against the wall, keeping a hand on the man’s shoulder just in case the amount of blood loss made him dizzy. When it seemed to slow down, Pete shrugged Ryan off and disappeared into a bathroom stall, Ryan knowing that he could leave now. Brendon had waited by the door, silent, expression not the least bit sorry for what he did.
“Don’t talk to me,” Ryan said a bit harshly, pushing past Brendon and out of the bathroom; heading to the door to go back to the hotel.
☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼♥☼
As soon as they got back to the hotel, Ryan went to the bedroom and shut the door before Brendon could follow. He stripped his clothes and got into the bed, the silk sheets cold against his skin and the mattress incredibly comfortable. It wasn’t that he was terribly mad at Brendon for punching Pete, he deserved it, but it was more he didn’t want Brendon to stand up for him. Ryan had dealt with Pete enough to continue on how things were with his ex, but Brendon punching Pete made things strained.
He curled on his side, hugging one of the many pillows, pondering what Pete had told him. He had never intended to dump Ryan after all. He was getting clean to try and be a good husband. Part of Ryan wanted to forgive him entirely, to try and make him leave Patrick to be with Ryan again.
But then Ryan thought about what Brendon had said. It was true; for years Pete put Ryan through hell, physically and emotionally, and never showed any signs of trying to change. Pete didn’t even tell Ryan when he did decide to get help, expecting Ryan to know or wait for him or whatever else while he secretly got himself help.
“Ryan?” Brendon knocked hesitantly on the door. “Am I…am I sleeping on the couch?” he asked, Ryan’s chest clenching at the way his boyfriend sounded. He had been with Brendon for a year, and not once had Brendon treated him remotely close to how Pete had. Not once has Brendon gotten drunk or high or ditched Ryan for friends. Not once had he yelled at Ryan or hit him or keep things behind his back.
Ryan didn’t answer though, because he really didn’t feel like talking. “Well…goodnight…” he heard Brendon sigh. “I’m sorry I upset you…I’ll see you in the morning…” Ryan could hear Brendon’s footsteps growing soft as he walked away.
Ryan realized in that moment that maybe that whatever was out to get him, really didn’t hate him after all. That maybe it was really helping Ryan. Because if Ryan had never thought that Pete actually had dumped him, he never would have been miserable enough to make Spencer and Jon show up and force him to Hawaii. If he was still with Pete, he would have never met Brendon, nor any of the great people that he calls close friends today.
Truth be told, getting left the night before his wedding was probably the best thing to ever happen to Ryan. Because even if Pete got help, there was no guarantee he wouldn't relapse or be dependent or be even worse than he was before. Now Ryan had Brendon; and he’d never been happier before in his life.
What took years to develop with Pete, took days with Brendon. Love.
Silently sighing, Ryan released the pillow and folded the blanket back, sliding from the bed and padding quietly to the door. The lights were off in the rest of the hotel so he flipped the bedroom light off as well, sliding his feet along the floor towards the living room where he knew he’d find Brendon too.
He could make out Brendon’s curled form on the couch from the lights outside pouring in the window, and used his hands to guide his way towards him. Ryan went to the couch then climbed into the space between the back and Brendon, Brendon moving back a little to give him room. “I’m sorry too,” Ryan whispered, folding one arm beneath his head for a pillow and putting the other over Brendon’s waist.
“I shouldn’t have punched him,” Brendon said, putting his arm over Ryan.
“He deserved it,” Ryan mumbled, Brendon giving a tiny snort as he pulled Ryan a little closer. “I got my facts wrong about what happened that night, but either way, I’m glad this was the outcome.”
“Me too,” Brendon replied with a kiss to Ryan’s forehead. “I love you.”
Ryan smiled, snuggling up to Brendon and shutting his eyes. “I love you too.”
Finale
A/N --- So...that came out longer than I intended...oops? It's like 9,ooo words...
but Pete! And Gabe! And Mikeyway and Geeway and Frankie! :]
Yay me.
Last part soon.
xoxo Tabi