'Panic! Meet The Press' [Brendon Urie/Ryan Ross]
Title: 'Panic! Meet The Press'
Author: that_1_incident
Fandom: Panic! at the Disco
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Profanity, sexual innuendo
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan (with Spencer/Jon if you squint)
Word Count: ~1,200
Summary: Ryan and Brendon managed to keep their relationship secret for almost a year, but a particularly intrusive paparazzo put an end to all that by snapping a photograph that ended up outing them to the world. We join them in the immediate aftermath, just as Panic! are preparing to meet the press...
Disclaimer: Ohhh, this isn't REAL. Why do you make me say it? Every time. Why? ...More specifically, the title, of course, belongs to one Mr Ryan Ross.
Author Notes: Hi =D
---<---<---@
“Ryan. Hey. Ross. Wake up, it’s time.”
Ryan reluctantly pried his eyelids apart and peered blearily at Brendon. “Huh? Time for what?” The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. His stomach felt like lead. “Oh. Shit.”
Brendon squeezed his hand and snuggled closer to him in the bed the two shared. “Yeah.” He let out a short bark of a laugh. “Time to face the music.”
“How can you joke at a time like this?” Ryan demanded more sharply than he’d intended.
Brendon looked hurt. “What, would you rather I’d said it was time to face the cameras?”
Ryan thought of the photograph that had got them into all this trouble in the first place. He sighed. “No. No, you’re right. I’m sorry, Bren - I love you, I’m just… I’m scared.”
“I love you too,” Brendon whispered into his boyfriend’s soft hair. “We’ll get through this morning, I promise. Jon and Spencer have our backs, we’ve already told our friends, I’ve told my parents, 90% of our fanbase knew anyway, Ryan, let’s be honest, and for all I care, the morons - sorry, Mormons - at my parents’ church can go fu-”
Ryan cut him off with a kiss. “This is why I’m with you, Brendon Urie. You can always make me feel better.”
Brendon’s eyes grew huge. “You mean it’s not because of my pouty lips or my bubble butt or my big brown puppy dog eyes or that thing I do with my tongue?”
Ryan laughed, gave the aforementioned bubble butt a firm squeeze, and rolled out of bed. “It’s all of the above. Now, come on, my love,” he told his boyfriend with far more confidence than he actually felt, “we’ve got a press conference to attend.”
--
An hour later, the four members of Panic! At The Disco were sitting stiffly suited at one end of a hastily appointed hotel conference room. As the members of the press began to file in, Brendon murmured into Ryan’s ear, “I love you.” Ryan stared straight ahead, nodded almost imperceptibly, and clasped his hands together on the table in front of him so hard that his knuckles turned white.
When everyone was settled, the press officer stepped forward and addressed the room at large. “I’d like to begin by thanking you all for coming out at such an early hour…”
‘Bullshit,’ Ryan thought, tuning out until she’d finished speaking. He knew how much the reporters wanted this - hell, if the press conference had been scheduled at 5 a.m., they all probably would’ve shown up. They’d been clamoring for it to be held yesterday, but Ryan and Brendon needed time to figure out what to do. Finally, late the previous night, Brendon’s “Let’s just ‘fess up and leave them to deal with it” approach had won out, the main point of reasoning being “Denial is all well and good when it’s just innuendo, Ryan, but it doesn’t work so well when there’s a picture of us in glorious Technicolor, tongues down each other’s throats, literally just three steps to your apartment and a couple of layers of clothing away from doing the dirty nasty.”
…When Brendon put it like that, Ryan had to agree with him. Jon, who had come in to deliver more caffeinated beverages to his frazzled friends in anticipation of a long and sleepless night, caught the end of Brendon’s statement and concurred - or at least, he did after he’d finished laughing hysterically at the phrasing. Ryan smiled slightly at the memory, but was brought back to earth with a bump when he heard the words, “The question and answer session may begin… now.”
Ryan swallowed hard, and the room exploded with three hundred different questions and a million flashes of light.
--
“How long have you two been dating?”
Brendon took that one. “About a year now.” He lay a hand on top of Ryan’s, quietly defiant and refusing to be intimidated. “We’re very committed to each other.” The flashbulbs went off again in sudden bursts, and Ryan tried not to squint.
“How would you describe your relationship with your boyfriend, Mr Ross?”
Ryan gulped. He wasn’t nearly as comfortable talking about this as Brendon seemed to be. “It’s, um… it’s nice,” he said lamely. “Brendon and I are very happy together.” He risked a glance at Brendon but regretted it as soon as the photographers went crazy again.
“Mr Urie, Mr Urie - how did you feel when you found out somebody had taken a picture of you and Mr Ross in such a compromising position?”
Brendon permitted himself a small smile. “Not pleased,” he said wryly, and a few of the reporters chuckled. Ryan was amazed - three questions in, and Brendon already had some of them on his side. That was another reason Ryan loved Brendon; he had the ability to endear himself to almost everybody he met.
“Mr Walker.” Jon looked up questioningly with a “Who, me?” expression on his face. “How did you react when you found out about your bandmates’ clandestine affair?”
Jon rolled his eyes. “It was never an affair, nor was it particularly clandestine, and I was cool with it. They’re my friends.”
Ryan wanted to flash Jon a grateful smile but the many cameras poised and ready in front of him made him quickly reconsider the action.
“Mr Smith, you and Mr Ross have been close friends since childhood - how did you feel when he told you he was gay?”
Spencer bit his lip. The truth was, Ryan hadn’t actually told him at all. Rather, when they were in their early teens, Spencer had walked in on Ryan with a picture of the Backstreet Boys in one hand and his dick in the other, and from then on his best friend’s sexuality had been pretty fucking apparent. He was not, however, about to divulge this little vignette to the press.
Jon squeezed Spencer’s hand under the table. “I really don’t see what that has to do with Ryan and Brendon being a couple,” he addressed the reporter sensibly. He was trying to act casual, but Ryan could see the strain in his face.
A beat, then, “Mr Urie, how old were you when you realized you were gay?”
Brendon grinned. “Who said I was gay?”
His questioner blanched. “Er… the photograph?” he said hesitantly, sounding very confused.
Brendon shook his head tantalizingly. ‘He’s actually having fun with this,’ Ryan thought in disbelief. He hadn’t realized his boyfriend was this much of an attention whore. “Nope,” Brendon told the reporter with a triumphant look on his face. “All that picture proves is that I’m Rysexual.”
The room burst into laughter. Ryan breathed a sign of relief, and he and Brendon linked hands across the tabletop. It was at that moment Ryan knew that they’d be alright, that the band would get past this, the fans would get past this (except the ones who’d been fixated on it long before their beloved pairing ever went public - Ryan doubted there was any hope at all for them), and as for him… well, Ryan Ross could face anything with Brendon Urie at his side.
---<---<---@
Author: that_1_incident
Fandom: Panic! at the Disco
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Profanity, sexual innuendo
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan (with Spencer/Jon if you squint)
Word Count: ~1,200
Summary: Ryan and Brendon managed to keep their relationship secret for almost a year, but a particularly intrusive paparazzo put an end to all that by snapping a photograph that ended up outing them to the world. We join them in the immediate aftermath, just as Panic! are preparing to meet the press...
Disclaimer: Ohhh, this isn't REAL. Why do you make me say it? Every time. Why? ...More specifically, the title, of course, belongs to one Mr Ryan Ross.
Author Notes: Hi =D
---<---<---@
“Ryan. Hey. Ross. Wake up, it’s time.”
Ryan reluctantly pried his eyelids apart and peered blearily at Brendon. “Huh? Time for what?” The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. His stomach felt like lead. “Oh. Shit.”
Brendon squeezed his hand and snuggled closer to him in the bed the two shared. “Yeah.” He let out a short bark of a laugh. “Time to face the music.”
“How can you joke at a time like this?” Ryan demanded more sharply than he’d intended.
Brendon looked hurt. “What, would you rather I’d said it was time to face the cameras?”
Ryan thought of the photograph that had got them into all this trouble in the first place. He sighed. “No. No, you’re right. I’m sorry, Bren - I love you, I’m just… I’m scared.”
“I love you too,” Brendon whispered into his boyfriend’s soft hair. “We’ll get through this morning, I promise. Jon and Spencer have our backs, we’ve already told our friends, I’ve told my parents, 90% of our fanbase knew anyway, Ryan, let’s be honest, and for all I care, the morons - sorry, Mormons - at my parents’ church can go fu-”
Ryan cut him off with a kiss. “This is why I’m with you, Brendon Urie. You can always make me feel better.”
Brendon’s eyes grew huge. “You mean it’s not because of my pouty lips or my bubble butt or my big brown puppy dog eyes or that thing I do with my tongue?”
Ryan laughed, gave the aforementioned bubble butt a firm squeeze, and rolled out of bed. “It’s all of the above. Now, come on, my love,” he told his boyfriend with far more confidence than he actually felt, “we’ve got a press conference to attend.”
--
An hour later, the four members of Panic! At The Disco were sitting stiffly suited at one end of a hastily appointed hotel conference room. As the members of the press began to file in, Brendon murmured into Ryan’s ear, “I love you.” Ryan stared straight ahead, nodded almost imperceptibly, and clasped his hands together on the table in front of him so hard that his knuckles turned white.
When everyone was settled, the press officer stepped forward and addressed the room at large. “I’d like to begin by thanking you all for coming out at such an early hour…”
‘Bullshit,’ Ryan thought, tuning out until she’d finished speaking. He knew how much the reporters wanted this - hell, if the press conference had been scheduled at 5 a.m., they all probably would’ve shown up. They’d been clamoring for it to be held yesterday, but Ryan and Brendon needed time to figure out what to do. Finally, late the previous night, Brendon’s “Let’s just ‘fess up and leave them to deal with it” approach had won out, the main point of reasoning being “Denial is all well and good when it’s just innuendo, Ryan, but it doesn’t work so well when there’s a picture of us in glorious Technicolor, tongues down each other’s throats, literally just three steps to your apartment and a couple of layers of clothing away from doing the dirty nasty.”
…When Brendon put it like that, Ryan had to agree with him. Jon, who had come in to deliver more caffeinated beverages to his frazzled friends in anticipation of a long and sleepless night, caught the end of Brendon’s statement and concurred - or at least, he did after he’d finished laughing hysterically at the phrasing. Ryan smiled slightly at the memory, but was brought back to earth with a bump when he heard the words, “The question and answer session may begin… now.”
Ryan swallowed hard, and the room exploded with three hundred different questions and a million flashes of light.
--
“How long have you two been dating?”
Brendon took that one. “About a year now.” He lay a hand on top of Ryan’s, quietly defiant and refusing to be intimidated. “We’re very committed to each other.” The flashbulbs went off again in sudden bursts, and Ryan tried not to squint.
“How would you describe your relationship with your boyfriend, Mr Ross?”
Ryan gulped. He wasn’t nearly as comfortable talking about this as Brendon seemed to be. “It’s, um… it’s nice,” he said lamely. “Brendon and I are very happy together.” He risked a glance at Brendon but regretted it as soon as the photographers went crazy again.
“Mr Urie, Mr Urie - how did you feel when you found out somebody had taken a picture of you and Mr Ross in such a compromising position?”
Brendon permitted himself a small smile. “Not pleased,” he said wryly, and a few of the reporters chuckled. Ryan was amazed - three questions in, and Brendon already had some of them on his side. That was another reason Ryan loved Brendon; he had the ability to endear himself to almost everybody he met.
“Mr Walker.” Jon looked up questioningly with a “Who, me?” expression on his face. “How did you react when you found out about your bandmates’ clandestine affair?”
Jon rolled his eyes. “It was never an affair, nor was it particularly clandestine, and I was cool with it. They’re my friends.”
Ryan wanted to flash Jon a grateful smile but the many cameras poised and ready in front of him made him quickly reconsider the action.
“Mr Smith, you and Mr Ross have been close friends since childhood - how did you feel when he told you he was gay?”
Spencer bit his lip. The truth was, Ryan hadn’t actually told him at all. Rather, when they were in their early teens, Spencer had walked in on Ryan with a picture of the Backstreet Boys in one hand and his dick in the other, and from then on his best friend’s sexuality had been pretty fucking apparent. He was not, however, about to divulge this little vignette to the press.
Jon squeezed Spencer’s hand under the table. “I really don’t see what that has to do with Ryan and Brendon being a couple,” he addressed the reporter sensibly. He was trying to act casual, but Ryan could see the strain in his face.
A beat, then, “Mr Urie, how old were you when you realized you were gay?”
Brendon grinned. “Who said I was gay?”
His questioner blanched. “Er… the photograph?” he said hesitantly, sounding very confused.
Brendon shook his head tantalizingly. ‘He’s actually having fun with this,’ Ryan thought in disbelief. He hadn’t realized his boyfriend was this much of an attention whore. “Nope,” Brendon told the reporter with a triumphant look on his face. “All that picture proves is that I’m Rysexual.”
The room burst into laughter. Ryan breathed a sign of relief, and he and Brendon linked hands across the tabletop. It was at that moment Ryan knew that they’d be alright, that the band would get past this, the fans would get past this (except the ones who’d been fixated on it long before their beloved pairing ever went public - Ryan doubted there was any hope at all for them), and as for him… well, Ryan Ross could face anything with Brendon Urie at his side.
---<---<---@