How Did I Fall In Love With You? [1/2]
Title: How Did I Fall In Love With You? [1/2]
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: R
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 3rd, Ryan-centric
Summary: Bad things happen when Ryan reads fanfiction.
Word Count: 2,189 [this part]; 4,415 [total]
Disclaimer: Not my boys, never happened. Don't Google yourselves, kids, this is exactly what will result from that.
Beta: phoenix_vixen
Author Notes: I don't even know WHERE this came from. My ass maybe? Maybe too much pornfic reading? Who knows. More after the cut.
Second part.
Ryan Ross was definitely, totally, absolutely not reading fanfiction. Why? Because fanfiction was complete bullshit, most of it didn't make any sense, most of it was terribly written, and rarely did the writers of such dribble ever get any of the facts right. Honestly? Ryan was not a whiny little bitch. He definitely was not suicidal, or a cutter, or anorexic.
And fuck, he really was not gay. He was not with Brendon, Spencer, Jon, Pete, William... christ, these kids were just fucking insane.
But of all things he was not reading pornographic fanfiction. No sir, not Ryan Ross.
"God, is that even possible?" he muttered under his breath, staring at a jumble of words on someone's LiveJournal page on his laptop screen.
Okay, so maybe he was a little curious. Kids and their rumors, he figured it'd give him a good laugh at least.
"Ew. Ew, no. What?" He had just read something about Brendon licking his ass. Seriously? It was so disgusting, but he couldn't stop reading it. It was like a train wreck; a particularly gory train wreck.
When he got to the part where Brendon shoved his cock up his ass, he clapped a hand over his mouth, unsure if he should laugh, cry, or vomit. And fic-Ryan was moaning, loving every second of it, coming without even having his dick touched.
"Hey, Ry, whatcha doing?"
Ryan practically jumped a foot in the air, nearly flinging his laptop across the room. He managed to keep it in his lap, however, fumbling to snap it shut with a sharp click. Only when it was safely closed did he look up at the voice that had spoken to him.
It was Brendon. A very smug looking Brendon.
"Ryan, you weren't looking at something you shouldn't have been looking at... were you?" he asked slowly, condescendingly, like he was his mother or something, that crooked smirk still plastered to his face.
Ryan composed himself quickly, running a bony hand through what little hair he had left after getting it cut again. "I'm old enough to look at whatever I want, Brendon." Actually, if he took the time to think about that, he did sound pretty bitchy. He didn't think about it. "You're not my mom."
"Yeah, you're right; you'd look a lot better if I was your mom."
Ryan huffed angrily and glared daggers into the back of Brendon's head as he skipped off towards the front of the bus. He waited until he could hear Spencer squawk irritably and Jon laugh before flipping his laptop back open.
God, if these kids thought he was in a relationship, sexual or not, with that, they had another thing coming.
***
Somehow, someway, Ryan had gotten sucked into this fanfiction thing. He didn't tell anyone, not even Spencer, because reading porn stories about yourself and your best friends? Not cool. It wasn't like he got off on it or anything, definitely not. It was just interesting to read what people thought happened behind the scenes. Even if it was kind of gross.
He burst into a fit of giggles when he read the one about his rose vest getting ruined by Jon coming all over it. Now that WOULD have been an interesting turn of events, but yeah, it never happened. He simply lost the damn thing.
Interesting, he kept telling himself. It was just interesting, that's all.
***
Ryan began noticing things about Brendon; namely, his ass and his lips because pretty much every story mentioned one or both in obscenely graphic detail. Then there was the fact that Brendon almost always had a childish personality in these things. Why did these kids get Brendon's character right, but not his? It was kind of unfair.
Okay, so maybe these stories put a new light on Brendon's assets, no pun intended. Because, Brendon's ass was pretty nice and his lips were big and full, but not ridiculously so. Kissable, was the only single word to describe them that sounded right, but he would never admit to thinking that. Or thinking that Brendon's ass was nice. Because, hell, then people would have a reason to think he was gay.
He began to notice each of Brendon's familiar facial expressions. He filed away mental pictures of the trademark pouty face, that eyebrow thing he did, his cheesy grin, even that special look on stage when he was in the zone, all sweaty and half out of breath.
Brendon Urie was a sexy motherfucker, and he knew it. Ryan could see why people liked him, could see why the fans adored him. He could understand why teenage girls fawned over him.
But for the life of him, he could not figure out why these kids put the two of them together.
***
"Why do you think the fans think we're together?"
Brendon looked over at Ryan from the opposite side of the couch where he was watching Aladdin for the billionth time. A knowing grin grew on his lips as he noticed the laptop resting on Ryan's thighs.
"You've been reading fanfics again, haven't you?" Brendon sighed, turning back to the movie.
Ryan blinked stupidly, glad that the younger male wasn't watching him. How in the fuck did he know about that?
"What are you talking about?" he finally retorted, forcing his face to look confused instead of utterly horrified.
"Dude, you know I use your computer. If you didn't want me to find out, you should have cleared the history. You know I'm terribly curious. Did you actually read that one about you, Spence, and Jon practically raping me?"
Ryan gaped at him. He could barely form coherent thoughts in his head. "Did you?" was all he could think of.
"Yeah," he answered with a shrug. "It was pretty well written, actually."
"Didn't it freak you out?"
"So you did read it."
"You didn't answer my question," Ryan deadpanned.
"Nope. Didn't freak me out. It isn't real, never happened. Why should I freak out?"
"Because... nevermind."
There was silence for a moment, Brendon watching his movie intently, Ryan glaring at his computer screen.
"You won't tell anyone, will you?"
Brendon glanced back up at Ryan. "I haven't told anyone yet. Don't worry, Ross, your secret's safe with me."
Something warm and heavy settled on Ryan's chest with Brendon's sincerity, not exactly a bad feeling, but new and unexpected nonetheless. He quickly looked away from Brendon and back at his laptop.
***
Ryan found himself spending time with Brendon a lot more than usual. It wasn't his doing, he told himself, because Jon and Spencer were always off by themselves, leaving him alone with Brendon. He wasn't exactly a willing participant in this arrangement, even though he could still hole himself up alone in his bunk if he really didn't want to be around Brendon.
But the truth was, he kind of liked being around his younger singer.
"Dude! You so just lost."
"I hate this game."
"You only say that when you lose, you baby."
"I'm not a baby, you're the one who cheated."
"Cheated? Me? No sir, Brendon Urie does not cheat."
"Uh huh, sure, tell that to my big white ass."
"Pff, you don't even have an ass. Much less a big one."
"You would know, oh king of big asses."
"You're just jealous because I get all the girls grabbing my ass."
"Yeah, and you're usually the bottom in all the fics because of it too."
The two froze. A slow blush crept across Ryan's face and Brendon had the decency to look mortified.
"Sorry, that was low." Ryan's pulse throbbed painfully in his neck, guilt making the weight on his chest heavier. He had been doing well to avoid thinking about it.
"You know as well as I do that there are just as many fics where you're the bottom cause the fans think you're a little bitch."
A smile found it's way to Ryan's lips, Brendon's curling up as well.
"Okay, okay, you got me. You up for a rematch, cheater?"
"Oh, you're in for it, Ross."
And just like that, everything was back to normal. Well, except for that weird tightening in Ryan's chest that he felt every time he was around Brendon. But he was quickly getting used to that.
***
Ryan was rooming with Brendon on hotel night, and for once it didn't bother him when he practically stole first shower and then proceeded to lounge around the room naked. Of course, naked Brendon had never really bothered him in the first place; he had this clothing optional kind of mentality from the get-go. He actually scared the shit out of Spencer when he had to go wake him up for the first time and found out that he slept in only bed sheets.
Ryan, however, was modest and at least pulled on a pair of boxers before going to sit on the couch next to Brendon. The younger man had turned on a random channel with a show Ryan didn't recognize on it. Ryan watched it anyway.
"You ever think the fans put us together because of something that we can't see for ourselves? Something you'd only be able to see if you were an outsider looking in?"
Ryan glanced over at Brendon, splayed out across his side of the couch, a pensive look on his face as he watched the TV screen.
"I can't imagine what it would be. I think they were just reading a little too far into our stage show on the Circus tour or something." Ryan shrugged. When did Brendon suddenly become all philosophical anyway?
"You know you can't just blame it on the Circus tour."
Brendon was looking back at Ryan now, not even a hint of humor in his expression. That weird tightweightheat feeling burned Ryan's chest at Brendon's gaze, and he forced himself to look away.
"Maybe they know something we don't," Brendon continued, putting a finger to Ryan's jaw, making him look at him again.
Ryan was suddenly highly aware of his breathing, his heartbeat, and even with the TV on it was too quiet, too still. It felt like time had been momentarily paused, and the finger that rested against his jaw felt too warm, too close. He hoped that Brendon didn't notice the way his breath hitched as the weight in his chest tightened even more, twisting madly around his heart and lungs.
"Maybe... maybe we're just too blind to see what's right in front of our faces," Brendon whispered, and Ryan swore he saw Brendon's eyes flash knowingly.
They stared at each other for what seemed like a lifetime before Brendon blinked and pulled his hand away from Ryan's face.
"I'm going to bed. You coming?" Brendon asked, standing and stretching gracefully.
The spell had been broken. This... thing in Ryan's chest subsided to a dull ache, allowing him to finally breathe properly. "Yeah. Sure."
***
The feeling in Ryan's chest whenever he was around Brendon was beginning to get harder and harder to ignore. The less graphic fics, riddled with cuteness and cuddling, made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside and that... okay, that was kind of scary. He felt an uncharacteristically jealous pang whenever Brendon draped himself over Spencer or Jon. To say the least, things inside Ryan's head were just getting ridiculous.
It was only when he read a fic that described the exact same feeling he had and labeled it as love that he clapped one hand over his mouth and the other over his chest and cried.
He had unknowingly fallen in love with Brendon. He was so so so fucking stupid.
***
"Ryan, are you okay?"
No, I'm fucking in love with my best friend, was what he wanted to yell at Spencer, but he knew better. "Dumb question," he replied instead.
Spencer pulled him into a tight hug. "You know you don't have to tell me, but if you want to talk..."
"I know."
They stood there for a while, Ryan clutching desperately at Spencer's chest, vainly hoping that it would make everything better. He knew better, though.
"Ry, you're shaking."
He hadn't even realized it until Spencer pointed it out. He was just trying to push the tears back, deal with this frustration like a man. Sort of.
It didn't work. A sob forced it's way out, the shoulder of Spencer's shirt already getting wet. Ryan simply held on tighter, and Spencer let him, trailing a hand up to softly brush his fingers through Ryan's auburn hair.
"Shh, Ryan..."
Ryan calmed down after a minute, feeling better for getting it out, relaxing into Spencer's touch.
"I just... I don't know what's going on, Spence," he whispered when he thought he could trust his voice again.
"You're smart, you'll figure it out eventually."
"I mean, what if... what if it doesn't work?"
Spencer pulled him away, just enough to duck his head down to look him in the face. "You can make it work. I know you can."
Ryan wiped his face with the back of one long, bony hand. "Yeah?"
Spencer gave him a reassuring smile. "Yeah."
---
A/N: Thanks so much for reading, guys! Second chapter will be up when I have the time. While you're waiting, here's some actual fics I mentioned within this piece. I highly recommend them, they're pretty good.
"...the one about [Ryan's] rose vest getting ruined by Jon coming all over it." Here.
"...that one about [Ryan], Spence, and Jon practically raping [Brendon]..." Here. (SELF-PIMPING, OHNOES.)
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: R
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 3rd, Ryan-centric
Summary: Bad things happen when Ryan reads fanfiction.
Word Count: 2,189 [this part]; 4,415 [total]
Disclaimer: Not my boys, never happened. Don't Google yourselves, kids, this is exactly what will result from that.
Beta: phoenix_vixen
Author Notes: I don't even know WHERE this came from. My ass maybe? Maybe too much pornfic reading? Who knows. More after the cut.
Second part.
Ryan Ross was definitely, totally, absolutely not reading fanfiction. Why? Because fanfiction was complete bullshit, most of it didn't make any sense, most of it was terribly written, and rarely did the writers of such dribble ever get any of the facts right. Honestly? Ryan was not a whiny little bitch. He definitely was not suicidal, or a cutter, or anorexic.
And fuck, he really was not gay. He was not with Brendon, Spencer, Jon, Pete, William... christ, these kids were just fucking insane.
But of all things he was not reading pornographic fanfiction. No sir, not Ryan Ross.
"God, is that even possible?" he muttered under his breath, staring at a jumble of words on someone's LiveJournal page on his laptop screen.
Okay, so maybe he was a little curious. Kids and their rumors, he figured it'd give him a good laugh at least.
"Ew. Ew, no. What?" He had just read something about Brendon licking his ass. Seriously? It was so disgusting, but he couldn't stop reading it. It was like a train wreck; a particularly gory train wreck.
When he got to the part where Brendon shoved his cock up his ass, he clapped a hand over his mouth, unsure if he should laugh, cry, or vomit. And fic-Ryan was moaning, loving every second of it, coming without even having his dick touched.
"Hey, Ry, whatcha doing?"
Ryan practically jumped a foot in the air, nearly flinging his laptop across the room. He managed to keep it in his lap, however, fumbling to snap it shut with a sharp click. Only when it was safely closed did he look up at the voice that had spoken to him.
It was Brendon. A very smug looking Brendon.
"Ryan, you weren't looking at something you shouldn't have been looking at... were you?" he asked slowly, condescendingly, like he was his mother or something, that crooked smirk still plastered to his face.
Ryan composed himself quickly, running a bony hand through what little hair he had left after getting it cut again. "I'm old enough to look at whatever I want, Brendon." Actually, if he took the time to think about that, he did sound pretty bitchy. He didn't think about it. "You're not my mom."
"Yeah, you're right; you'd look a lot better if I was your mom."
Ryan huffed angrily and glared daggers into the back of Brendon's head as he skipped off towards the front of the bus. He waited until he could hear Spencer squawk irritably and Jon laugh before flipping his laptop back open.
God, if these kids thought he was in a relationship, sexual or not, with that, they had another thing coming.
***
Somehow, someway, Ryan had gotten sucked into this fanfiction thing. He didn't tell anyone, not even Spencer, because reading porn stories about yourself and your best friends? Not cool. It wasn't like he got off on it or anything, definitely not. It was just interesting to read what people thought happened behind the scenes. Even if it was kind of gross.
He burst into a fit of giggles when he read the one about his rose vest getting ruined by Jon coming all over it. Now that WOULD have been an interesting turn of events, but yeah, it never happened. He simply lost the damn thing.
Interesting, he kept telling himself. It was just interesting, that's all.
***
Ryan began noticing things about Brendon; namely, his ass and his lips because pretty much every story mentioned one or both in obscenely graphic detail. Then there was the fact that Brendon almost always had a childish personality in these things. Why did these kids get Brendon's character right, but not his? It was kind of unfair.
Okay, so maybe these stories put a new light on Brendon's assets, no pun intended. Because, Brendon's ass was pretty nice and his lips were big and full, but not ridiculously so. Kissable, was the only single word to describe them that sounded right, but he would never admit to thinking that. Or thinking that Brendon's ass was nice. Because, hell, then people would have a reason to think he was gay.
He began to notice each of Brendon's familiar facial expressions. He filed away mental pictures of the trademark pouty face, that eyebrow thing he did, his cheesy grin, even that special look on stage when he was in the zone, all sweaty and half out of breath.
Brendon Urie was a sexy motherfucker, and he knew it. Ryan could see why people liked him, could see why the fans adored him. He could understand why teenage girls fawned over him.
But for the life of him, he could not figure out why these kids put the two of them together.
***
"Why do you think the fans think we're together?"
Brendon looked over at Ryan from the opposite side of the couch where he was watching Aladdin for the billionth time. A knowing grin grew on his lips as he noticed the laptop resting on Ryan's thighs.
"You've been reading fanfics again, haven't you?" Brendon sighed, turning back to the movie.
Ryan blinked stupidly, glad that the younger male wasn't watching him. How in the fuck did he know about that?
"What are you talking about?" he finally retorted, forcing his face to look confused instead of utterly horrified.
"Dude, you know I use your computer. If you didn't want me to find out, you should have cleared the history. You know I'm terribly curious. Did you actually read that one about you, Spence, and Jon practically raping me?"
Ryan gaped at him. He could barely form coherent thoughts in his head. "Did you?" was all he could think of.
"Yeah," he answered with a shrug. "It was pretty well written, actually."
"Didn't it freak you out?"
"So you did read it."
"You didn't answer my question," Ryan deadpanned.
"Nope. Didn't freak me out. It isn't real, never happened. Why should I freak out?"
"Because... nevermind."
There was silence for a moment, Brendon watching his movie intently, Ryan glaring at his computer screen.
"You won't tell anyone, will you?"
Brendon glanced back up at Ryan. "I haven't told anyone yet. Don't worry, Ross, your secret's safe with me."
Something warm and heavy settled on Ryan's chest with Brendon's sincerity, not exactly a bad feeling, but new and unexpected nonetheless. He quickly looked away from Brendon and back at his laptop.
***
Ryan found himself spending time with Brendon a lot more than usual. It wasn't his doing, he told himself, because Jon and Spencer were always off by themselves, leaving him alone with Brendon. He wasn't exactly a willing participant in this arrangement, even though he could still hole himself up alone in his bunk if he really didn't want to be around Brendon.
But the truth was, he kind of liked being around his younger singer.
"Dude! You so just lost."
"I hate this game."
"You only say that when you lose, you baby."
"I'm not a baby, you're the one who cheated."
"Cheated? Me? No sir, Brendon Urie does not cheat."
"Uh huh, sure, tell that to my big white ass."
"Pff, you don't even have an ass. Much less a big one."
"You would know, oh king of big asses."
"You're just jealous because I get all the girls grabbing my ass."
"Yeah, and you're usually the bottom in all the fics because of it too."
The two froze. A slow blush crept across Ryan's face and Brendon had the decency to look mortified.
"Sorry, that was low." Ryan's pulse throbbed painfully in his neck, guilt making the weight on his chest heavier. He had been doing well to avoid thinking about it.
"You know as well as I do that there are just as many fics where you're the bottom cause the fans think you're a little bitch."
A smile found it's way to Ryan's lips, Brendon's curling up as well.
"Okay, okay, you got me. You up for a rematch, cheater?"
"Oh, you're in for it, Ross."
And just like that, everything was back to normal. Well, except for that weird tightening in Ryan's chest that he felt every time he was around Brendon. But he was quickly getting used to that.
***
Ryan was rooming with Brendon on hotel night, and for once it didn't bother him when he practically stole first shower and then proceeded to lounge around the room naked. Of course, naked Brendon had never really bothered him in the first place; he had this clothing optional kind of mentality from the get-go. He actually scared the shit out of Spencer when he had to go wake him up for the first time and found out that he slept in only bed sheets.
Ryan, however, was modest and at least pulled on a pair of boxers before going to sit on the couch next to Brendon. The younger man had turned on a random channel with a show Ryan didn't recognize on it. Ryan watched it anyway.
"You ever think the fans put us together because of something that we can't see for ourselves? Something you'd only be able to see if you were an outsider looking in?"
Ryan glanced over at Brendon, splayed out across his side of the couch, a pensive look on his face as he watched the TV screen.
"I can't imagine what it would be. I think they were just reading a little too far into our stage show on the Circus tour or something." Ryan shrugged. When did Brendon suddenly become all philosophical anyway?
"You know you can't just blame it on the Circus tour."
Brendon was looking back at Ryan now, not even a hint of humor in his expression. That weird tightweightheat feeling burned Ryan's chest at Brendon's gaze, and he forced himself to look away.
"Maybe they know something we don't," Brendon continued, putting a finger to Ryan's jaw, making him look at him again.
Ryan was suddenly highly aware of his breathing, his heartbeat, and even with the TV on it was too quiet, too still. It felt like time had been momentarily paused, and the finger that rested against his jaw felt too warm, too close. He hoped that Brendon didn't notice the way his breath hitched as the weight in his chest tightened even more, twisting madly around his heart and lungs.
"Maybe... maybe we're just too blind to see what's right in front of our faces," Brendon whispered, and Ryan swore he saw Brendon's eyes flash knowingly.
They stared at each other for what seemed like a lifetime before Brendon blinked and pulled his hand away from Ryan's face.
"I'm going to bed. You coming?" Brendon asked, standing and stretching gracefully.
The spell had been broken. This... thing in Ryan's chest subsided to a dull ache, allowing him to finally breathe properly. "Yeah. Sure."
***
The feeling in Ryan's chest whenever he was around Brendon was beginning to get harder and harder to ignore. The less graphic fics, riddled with cuteness and cuddling, made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside and that... okay, that was kind of scary. He felt an uncharacteristically jealous pang whenever Brendon draped himself over Spencer or Jon. To say the least, things inside Ryan's head were just getting ridiculous.
It was only when he read a fic that described the exact same feeling he had and labeled it as love that he clapped one hand over his mouth and the other over his chest and cried.
He had unknowingly fallen in love with Brendon. He was so so so fucking stupid.
***
"Ryan, are you okay?"
No, I'm fucking in love with my best friend, was what he wanted to yell at Spencer, but he knew better. "Dumb question," he replied instead.
Spencer pulled him into a tight hug. "You know you don't have to tell me, but if you want to talk..."
"I know."
They stood there for a while, Ryan clutching desperately at Spencer's chest, vainly hoping that it would make everything better. He knew better, though.
"Ry, you're shaking."
He hadn't even realized it until Spencer pointed it out. He was just trying to push the tears back, deal with this frustration like a man. Sort of.
It didn't work. A sob forced it's way out, the shoulder of Spencer's shirt already getting wet. Ryan simply held on tighter, and Spencer let him, trailing a hand up to softly brush his fingers through Ryan's auburn hair.
"Shh, Ryan..."
Ryan calmed down after a minute, feeling better for getting it out, relaxing into Spencer's touch.
"I just... I don't know what's going on, Spence," he whispered when he thought he could trust his voice again.
"You're smart, you'll figure it out eventually."
"I mean, what if... what if it doesn't work?"
Spencer pulled him away, just enough to duck his head down to look him in the face. "You can make it work. I know you can."
Ryan wiped his face with the back of one long, bony hand. "Yeah?"
Spencer gave him a reassuring smile. "Yeah."
---
A/N: Thanks so much for reading, guys! Second chapter will be up when I have the time. While you're waiting, here's some actual fics I mentioned within this piece. I highly recommend them, they're pretty good.
"...the one about [Ryan's] rose vest getting ruined by Jon coming all over it." Here.
"...that one about [Ryan], Spence, and Jon practically raping [Brendon]..." Here. (SELF-PIMPING, OHNOES.)