With a Little Help From My Friends (Panic! GSF)
For afterxbirth, whose Christmas wish was fluffy polyamory panic boys. don't care what plot you decide on (or even if there is no plot ;) ) just as long as there's ryan/brendon/spencer/jon in love.
Merry Christmas!
With a Little Help From My Friends
The best thing about it is waking up and not be alone. Waking up and not be cold. He used to have trouble sleeping, always too close to fear to be comfortable, his body never completely relaxed even in rest, some part of it always watching for signs of imminent danger and possible means of escape. He always kept his window open, even during the winter, since he wasn’t allowed to lock the door. Vegas wasn’t New York or Chicago or Minneapolis, but the desert nights in December could still be pretty damn cold. He was so used to curl up into a ball and shiver in his sleep that it didn’t even register with him anymore. Not until Jon commented on how many clothes he was wearing as he climbed into his bunk one night on the bus.
The nightmares are easier to deal with as well, waking up in a warm cocoon of tangled limbs instead of a suffocating twist of cold, damp sheets. He still wakes up screaming sometimes, but usually, someone shakes him awake before then, pulling him from the monsters’ clutches with hands and lips and the soft rush of his name being whispered into his ear. And when he does wake up shaking and terrified, too close to sleep to keep his eyes open but unable to close them or the nightmare will come rushing back (ready to pick up right where it left off), they are there to help him through it, to talk to him until the terror fades, to hold him and kiss his neck until his muscles begin to relax. It’s usually Spencer who notices first, even though Brendon is normally closest to him when they sleep. Jon calls it the sixth sense of best friends, and Ryan thinks that he’s probably right. For just like Ryan’s body learned to always stay on the alert for imminent attack during far too many years, Spencer’s learned to stay on the alert for Ryan, for signs of pain or fear, for signs that Ryan needed him. This is why they don’t need to talk most of the time, not with their mouths at least. Spencer will shift his weight to the right as they stand together in the limelight, not quite close enough to bump into Ryan, but close enough to let him feel the question of What’s wrong? Ryan will answer with a shrug of his shoulders (Not sure, hurts.), and Spencer will follow up with a warm hand at the small of his back (I’m right here. Focus on me, okay?).
If Spencer is his rock, then Brendon is water: always free, always dramatic, crashing into Ryan’s senses, relentless like the tide. He will be serene like the surface of a pond in a flowering garden, and then the undercurrents will start to pull, dragging Ryan out into a Caribbean riptide, submerging him in glittering swirls of bright turquoise and dancing fish. Ryan is so in love with him, he can barely breathe at times. But then, he guesses that’s normal when you choose to live your life under water.
Jon kind of floats around the three of them, a smiling summer breeze, soothing and wonderful. Out of the four of them, he’s the one who seems most comfortable in his own skin, content to live and love, to drift around the leaves of green umbrella trees in the middle of summer. And he makes Ryan soar, high as a kite, free and light-hearted through a whirlwind of creativity, his heart a hot-air balloon in the summer sun.
If he’s to complete the analogy, Ryan often fears that he burns too bright, too hot and too consuming, like he’s a match just waiting to go out. Somehow, he doesn’t though. Somehow, Spencer’s constant attention doesn’t suffocate him, but pushes new things out of the ground for him to explore. Somehow, Brendon’s never-ending enthusiasm doesn’t douse his flame, but turns him into an underwater light, swaying happily in the currents. And somehow, Jon always knows exactly how much space to give, caressingly providing just enough air to make the flame burn high and bright, never blowing out the lantern.
Really, it’s no wonder they wrote a whole album about nature when you think about it.
Explaining it in interviews. That’s the tricky part.
THE END
Liked it? Check out my other fanficion.
Merry Christmas!
With a Little Help From My Friends
The best thing about it is waking up and not be alone. Waking up and not be cold. He used to have trouble sleeping, always too close to fear to be comfortable, his body never completely relaxed even in rest, some part of it always watching for signs of imminent danger and possible means of escape. He always kept his window open, even during the winter, since he wasn’t allowed to lock the door. Vegas wasn’t New York or Chicago or Minneapolis, but the desert nights in December could still be pretty damn cold. He was so used to curl up into a ball and shiver in his sleep that it didn’t even register with him anymore. Not until Jon commented on how many clothes he was wearing as he climbed into his bunk one night on the bus.
The nightmares are easier to deal with as well, waking up in a warm cocoon of tangled limbs instead of a suffocating twist of cold, damp sheets. He still wakes up screaming sometimes, but usually, someone shakes him awake before then, pulling him from the monsters’ clutches with hands and lips and the soft rush of his name being whispered into his ear. And when he does wake up shaking and terrified, too close to sleep to keep his eyes open but unable to close them or the nightmare will come rushing back (ready to pick up right where it left off), they are there to help him through it, to talk to him until the terror fades, to hold him and kiss his neck until his muscles begin to relax. It’s usually Spencer who notices first, even though Brendon is normally closest to him when they sleep. Jon calls it the sixth sense of best friends, and Ryan thinks that he’s probably right. For just like Ryan’s body learned to always stay on the alert for imminent attack during far too many years, Spencer’s learned to stay on the alert for Ryan, for signs of pain or fear, for signs that Ryan needed him. This is why they don’t need to talk most of the time, not with their mouths at least. Spencer will shift his weight to the right as they stand together in the limelight, not quite close enough to bump into Ryan, but close enough to let him feel the question of What’s wrong? Ryan will answer with a shrug of his shoulders (Not sure, hurts.), and Spencer will follow up with a warm hand at the small of his back (I’m right here. Focus on me, okay?).
If Spencer is his rock, then Brendon is water: always free, always dramatic, crashing into Ryan’s senses, relentless like the tide. He will be serene like the surface of a pond in a flowering garden, and then the undercurrents will start to pull, dragging Ryan out into a Caribbean riptide, submerging him in glittering swirls of bright turquoise and dancing fish. Ryan is so in love with him, he can barely breathe at times. But then, he guesses that’s normal when you choose to live your life under water.
Jon kind of floats around the three of them, a smiling summer breeze, soothing and wonderful. Out of the four of them, he’s the one who seems most comfortable in his own skin, content to live and love, to drift around the leaves of green umbrella trees in the middle of summer. And he makes Ryan soar, high as a kite, free and light-hearted through a whirlwind of creativity, his heart a hot-air balloon in the summer sun.
If he’s to complete the analogy, Ryan often fears that he burns too bright, too hot and too consuming, like he’s a match just waiting to go out. Somehow, he doesn’t though. Somehow, Spencer’s constant attention doesn’t suffocate him, but pushes new things out of the ground for him to explore. Somehow, Brendon’s never-ending enthusiasm doesn’t douse his flame, but turns him into an underwater light, swaying happily in the currents. And somehow, Jon always knows exactly how much space to give, caressingly providing just enough air to make the flame burn high and bright, never blowing out the lantern.
Really, it’s no wonder they wrote a whole album about nature when you think about it.
Explaining it in interviews. That’s the tricky part.
THE END
Liked it? Check out my other fanficion.