Fic: Kill the headlights and put it in neutral
Title: Kill the headlights and put it in neutral.
Pairing: Tom Conrad/Ryan Ross
Rating: PG13
Summary: Um. Tom and Ryan are fail!boyfriends. The Young Veins and Empires go on tour together! Stuff happens!
Warnings: none. Unless ridiculousness needs to be warned for. In which case...
Disclaimer: not real.
Notes: For siryn99 because she’s awesome and I promised I'd write Ryan/Tom for her. Thanks to cmonkatiekatie for the beta. <333333
Tom doesn’t expect to find Ryan Ross sitting on the steps outside his apartment when he opens his door.
To be honest, Tom wasn’t really expecting to find anything on his doorstep at all because it isn’t like he’d come down to answer the buzzer or anything, he was just on his way to the store to buy some milk. Yeah, sometimes trash from the street ends up on the steps, and there was that one time he found a single shoe just sitting in the middle of the second step like it was waiting for its pair to show up, but on a scale of one to unexpected Ryan is pretty much at the top.
Tom blinks and opens and closes his mouth a few times. It’s early, his brain isn’t really functioning all that well yet. He’s kind of stuck on a loop that in his head sounds something like "need milk, coffee, Ryan?, coffee, coffee, milk".
Ryan blinks back. He’s got a suitcase sitting beside him and a guitar sitting beside that.
Tom does a quick count of the days in his head, just to make sure he hasn't slept through a week. Again.
When he's as sure as he can be that he knows what day it is he says, "You know the tour doesn’t start till next week, right?"
A little crease appears in the middle of Ryan's forehead as he pulls a face and says, "It's not really a tour."
"Huh?"
"What?"
"Tour." Tom sits down on the step next to Ryan. He has a feeling this conversation might go on for a while. "You said it isn't really a tour."
Ryan shrugs. "Well yeah, it's more like four shows and a festival."
And okay, Tom gets that four shows in fairly small venues and a festival appearance are not the same as a worldwide tour, but, "We're leaving the state and there are hotels involved. It's a tour."
"Hmmmm." The crease in Ryan's forehead deepens a little. Tom kind of wants to reach over and smooth it out.
"Anyway, the thing that may or may not be a tour doesn't start till next week, so..." Tom waves his hand at Ryan and his suitcase in a vague kind of a way.
Ryan nods. “Yeah. L.A. was getting…” Ryan trails off into a vague wavy hand motion of his own.
Tom tries to fill in the blanks and comes up with...nothing, because he really is not awake and he really needs coffee.
"Oh hey," Ryan says, picking up a plastic bag from the step beside him and shaking it a little in Tom's direction. "Jon said to bring milk."
"Is Jon stopping by as well?" Tom does not remember making plans with Jon. But he may have forgotten. It's been known to happen.
"What?" The crease is back in Ryan's forehead, it's making Tom's fingers twitch. "No. He just said you never have milk so I should bring some with me, or it might have been Cassie who said it, I can't really remember. I tuned out pretty early on. Jon has a tendency to ramble when he's stoned."
Tom grins at that, because, "Yeah, he does."
"Yeah." Ryan grins back.
They sit side by side on the steps grinning at each other for a moment until Tom remembers that he still does not know why Ryan is here. "So, um..." Tom does the hand waving thing again. He thinks he should probably move on to using actual words at some point, but that's unlikely to happen pre-caffeine.
"Oh." Ryan looks down at his shoes for a beat then picks a bit of fluff from the leg of his pants. "Jon says you have a really comfortable couch that you'd probably let me sleep on for a few days."
Tom's couch is not comfortable. Jon Walker is a lying liar who lies. Tom considers telling Ryan this but then Ryan might go away and Tom kind of doesn't want him to, so he settles for saying, "I do have a couch, yes."
Ryan looks up again, smiling hopefully. "I brought cookies as well. And cake, and there's some ice cream but it might be a little melted, I've been sitting out here a while now."
All of a sudden Tom can hear his mom's voice in his head telling him he's being a bad host and tutting at how he's left Ryan sitting outside and not even offered him a drink. Tom thinks his mom is probably right.
He pushes himself up from the step and grabs the handle of Ryan's suitcase. "Coffee?"
"I didn't buy any coffee." Ryan opens his grocery bag and looks inside, his face falling. "I can go back and get some?"
"No. I have coffee." Tom lets go of the suitcase and offers a hand to Ryan to help him up. "You can have some if you come inside. I mean, if you want."
"Yes. Yes, please." Ryan smiles again and takes Tom's hand, wobbling a little as he turns to pick up his guitar. Tom tells himself the reason he grips Ryan's hand a little tighter is just to help him balance.
***
Once, way back when Tom was alternating between being angry at the world and being depressed and Ryan still thought that painting birds on his face was the ultimate expression of his inner turmoil, Tom and Ryan had some, as it turned out, surprisingly good sex. Together. At the same time. With each other.
Actually now that Tom thinks about it, it happened more than once. Two or three times maybe, possibly even as many as five, Tom can't quite remember to be honest. It was a couple of years ago and he's spent a lot of the time in between then and now drunk off his ass.
But what Tom does remember is that the sex was good enough that he'd like to do it again. Only this time without the sneaking around and secrecy and the not really having enough time to totally savor the experience. Mainly, Tom thinks, he'd like to have sex with Ryan in a bed, instead of an out of the way room backstage at a venue, or a not especially hygienic truckstop bathroom. Tom has a pretty comfortable bed in his room just down the hall from where he's sitting that he thinks would be ideal.
The problem is, though, that Tom is not exactly sure of how to suggest it happen. He thinks there is probably some kind of etiquette involved. Tom's never really been all that good at etiquette.
They've had a nice day: they had some coffee, swapped stories about Jon doing stupid things, they reminisced about people they know and places they've been and right now they're sitting on the couch eating pizza and Ryan is smiling and he keeps laughing at Tom's jokes, no matter how lame they are. Tom doesn't really want to ruin it by blurting out "oh hey, wanna fuck?".
Which is a shame, because that right there is a question that Tom would really like to know the answer to.
***
Tom wakes up in the middle of the night to find Ryan sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed. In the light shining into the room from the streetlights outside Ryan kind of looks like a gargoyle. A gargoyle in paisley pajamas, but a gargoyle all the same. It's sort of creepy, Tom thinks, waking up to find someone watching you sleep. He makes a mental note to apologize to Nick next time he sees him. And also to buy some curtains.
Tom sits up a little and tries to get his brain in gear enough to speak. It doesn't really work. He means to ask Ryan what's up but it comes out more like "nnrgh?"
Luckily Ryan seems to get what he means.
"Your couch is really uncomfortable." Ryan pulls a face to emphasize his point. "Jon lied."
Tom nods in agreement and tries the speaking thing again. "Yeah. He did."
"So," Ryan says, "can I sleep in here with you?"
Tom really hopes that the speed with which he slides over to make room for Ryan does not make him seem too eager. Because he kind of is.
If Ryan notices he doesn't say anything, he just climbs in, then spends five minutes fussing with the pillow and arranging the blankets just so. Tom thinks he shouldn't really find it endearing, but he kind of does.
When Ryan is finally settled he rolls on his side and presses a quick kiss to Tom's cheek, murmuring, "Thanks," before rolling back the other way.
Tom goes back to sleep with a smile on his face.
***
Ryan is made almost entirely of elbows. Tom is sure that Ryan must have grown extra arms in the night, that would explain all the elbows. Tom isn't really complaining, though, because the reason he knows about Ryan's extra elbows is from the way they keep jabbing him as Ryan squirms around until he's settled above Tom, smiling as he leans in for a kiss. Tom has absolutely no problem with elbows if there's kissing involved. No problem at all.
They've been kissing for a while and Tom is working on undoing the buttons on Ryan's pajama top - and seriously, Tom wants to know, who in the world wears actual pajamas - when Ryan pulls back, tilting his head and screwing up his face like he's thinking really deep thoughts.
"Morning sex isn’t really that sexy. It’s all bad breath and weird hair and pillow creases and, like, sweaty but not necessarily in a good way."
"Oh." Tom stops what he's doing and lies down again. If he pouts a little too he doesn't think anyone can blame him.
Ryan rolls his eyes and undoes the remaining buttons on his pajama top, peeling it off when he's done and throwing it onto the floor beside the bed. "I wasn’t saying we shouldn’t. Just, you know, sorry about the morning breath."
Another thing Tom has absolutely no problem with right now is morning breath.
***
When Al wanders into the room Tom is sitting on the not-at-all-comfortable-to-sleep-on couch watching a game show. Ryan's stretched out beside him, his head resting in Tom's lap as he takes a nap.
Al looks at the TV for a moment, calling out the answer to a question. Once he's been proved right he turns in Tom's direction and says, "Hey man, I'll catch you later, I’m going out to grab a few beers with Ryan."
Tom looks at Al then down at Ryan. He's pretty sure Ryan is asleep so he guesses he should wake him up if he's going out for drinks with Al. On one hand Tom is glad his friends get along. On the other hand, he's kind of disappointed because if Al is going out then he and Ryan could have had the apartment to themselves for the night, but if Ryan is going with Al then it will just be Tom in on his own. And that's kind of sad.
Tom's just about to shake Ryan's shoulder to wake him up when Al stops him. "No, no, my Ryan." Tom raises an eyebrow. Al flails his hands a little. "I mean our Ryan." Al pauses again and makes a noise that's halfway between frustration and embarrassment before saying, "I’m going out with Luciani."
Ryan chooses that moment to roll on his side and fling an arm over Tom's legs like he's holding him down. Ryan mutters something unintelligible and then snuggles in closer until his forehead is resting against Tom's hip and Tom can feel the warmth of Ryan's breath starting to seep through the crotch of his jeans.
Tom absentmindedly pats at Ryan's head, smoothing the hair away from his face until Ryan hums contentedly and presses forward. Tom is pretty sure he can feel the pressure of Ryan's mouth right against his dick. His dick that is busy interpreting Ryan's position in a fairly interested way. Tom tries squirming a little but it doesn't really help so he gives up and tries to pretend like it isn't happening, because Al's eyebrows are raised so high Tom thinks he might need to get them surgically removed from his hairline just to get them back to where they're supposed to be.
"Um, so," Al pauses for a moment, "you and Ross..."
Tom shrugs.
Al's eyebrows climb even higher. Tom did not think that was possible.
"Right. Okay." Al says. "Well, um, I'll leave you to it then."
Tom doesn't get a chance to reply because Al turns and walks out the door quicker than quick. Tom thinks he hears him saying 'dude, you'll never guess who Tom's fucking' in a disbelieving voice as the door of the apartment creaks open.
Tom's trying to work out how long it will take for the whole Chicago scene to hear the gossip when Ryan rolls over again and opens his eyes.
"Is he gone?"
Tom nods his head and grins. "Yeah."
Ryan grins back, just the right side of wicked. "Good."
Ryan rolls off the couch and shuffles forward until he's settled between Tom's legs. Tom let's his head fall back and grins at the ceiling as Ryan reaches for his zip.
***
Sean is convinced they need one final practice before the first show.
Tom wants to argue that they don't, because, well, it has nothing to do with how ready they are and a whole lot to do with a conversation he'd had with Ryan earlier about scarves and ties and the interesting ways they can be used. But then Al shouts something about Max picking them up in half an hour and Tom's argument dies before it begins. If Sean already has Max and Al on his side then Tom knows from experience there is no point trying to change anyone's mind.
Ryan takes the news that Tom has to go out pretty well. He looks a little disappointed for a moment but then nods and looks thoughtful.
"We should probably practice too."
Tom doesn’t know how that's going to happen seeing as Jon is busy communing with nature out in Crystal Lake, Eric is in L.A., Than is in New York and, according to Ryan, Alex is vibing in the cosmos. Whatever that means. Tom is not entirely sure he wants to know. But Ryan mutters something about webcams and ichat so Tom reminds him to put on some pants and leaves him to it.
Practice goes well. Like really well. Sean's voice soars round the practice space, Al and Max are on fire and Ryan doesn't fall off his stool once. It's days like this that make Tom feel energised and giddy, like he can take on the world. Tom really, really fucking loves his band.
When Tom gets home Ryan is sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him. There’s pizza from his favourite place on plates instead of in the box and a candle sitting in the middle of the table. It’s shaped like a pumpkin, but still...
"You cooked."
"I ordered in." Ryan shrugs and looks down at the floor. "I'm banned from cooking. Eric made me sign something to say I wouldn't do it anymore. There was an incident."
Tom totally understands. He's only recently mastered the complexities of the toaster oven. Kitchens can be dangerous places.
And anyway, "It’s the thought that counts."
Ryan looks up again and smiles. It's the big, happy smile that makes Tom want to kiss Ryan when he sees it, so he pulls Ryan up from his chair just so he can push him up against the counter and does.
"Oh wait," Ryan breaks the kiss and points to a chocolate cheesecake that's sitting on a plate on the counter. "I made dessert. Well I defrosted it. Um, we might need to wait like an hour or two because I only remembered it half an hour ago and the instructions say three hours."
"I’m sure we can think of a way to pass the time." Tom grins and waggles his eyebrows.
Ryan grins back. "I’ve heard that cheesecake tastes better naked."
"What about pizza?"
"I dunno. Wanna find out?"
Tom grabs the plates and follows Ryan down the hall.
(As it turns out, naked pizza eating is not such a good idea. Tom makes a mental note to remember that hot food and nudity do not go together. Partially defrosted cheesecake on the other hand is definitely improved by nakedness. Tom does not even mind that he'll have to buy a whole new set of bed sheets.)
***
They're the first ones to arrive at the venue. Which is surprising and a little unsettling. Tom is a kinda worried that maybe they are in the wrong place, or that maybe it's the wrong day. It's happened before.
He's about to suggest they find someone to check with when Ryan crowds him up against the wall, muttering something about "alone time" and dressing rooms bringing back memories, and kisses him. Tom is totally okay with them maybe being in the wrong place on the wrong day just as long as there's kissing.
They've just gotten to the point where Tom is wondering if Ryan remembered to lock the door to the dressing room, and whether or not he really cares, when he hears the door open and a voice that sounds a lot like Jon's say, "Oh, hey."
Tom peers over Ryan's shoulder. He has to stand on tiptoe to do it. The reason the voice sounded a lot like Jon's is because Jon is standing in the doorway looking confused. On the plus side that means they got the day and venue right. Tom counts that as a win.
Tom smiles at Jon. Ryan on the other hand does not smile at Jon, he's too busy sucking a bruise onto Tom's neck. Tom notes that this does not stop Jon from looking confused, so Tom asks, "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm..." Jon pauses and half scowls, half pouts. "I'm trying to work out which one of you I should be threatening to beat up."
Ryan stops what he's doing and turns round to face Jon saying, "Why?"
Tom tries not to hate Jon just a little bit.
Jon says, "The best friend thing. You know the thing where I threaten violence if anything goes wrong. It's like...I can't decide who to say it to."
"Does anyone really ever do that?" Ryan tilts his head to the side like he's considering Jon's quandary.
"Do what?"
"Make threats."
"I dunno, maybe?" Jon shrugs. "Cassie's been making me watch a lot of romantic comedies, it happens in them a lot."
It takes Tom a minute or two but then he has an idea. "Um, how about you threaten us both. You know, if it will make you feel better."
"Sure yeah I can do that." Jon looks relieved, Tom feels kind of proud of himself. "So, um, consider yourselves warned."
Tom gives Jon a big smile and a thumbs up. "Thanks, man."
Ryan nods in agreement and smiles at Jon as well. "You're the best."
"I'm gonna go see if Alex has shown up yet. You two can... " Jon waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the couch in the corner of the room that Tom had not even noticed then backs out of the door, shutting it behind himself.
Tom remembers to lock it before he joins Ryan on the couch.
***
Tom is half watching the local band that's opening for them soundcheck and half working on tuning his guitar when Al taps him on the shoulder.
"Dude, band meeting."
Al has his serious face on. The one he reserves for when things are fucked up, or when he's trying to convince a girl he's interested in what she's saying. As Tom is not a girl, he figures Al is trying to tell him bad things are afoot.
Tom follows Al back to the dressing room. Ryan is huddled in a corner with the rest of his band, Tom's band is in an equally huddle-like formation in an opposite corner so Tom joins them. One of the sound guys from the venue is standing in the middle of the room looking a little exasperated. Tom thinks his name might be Mike but he cannot in all honesty be sure.
Maybe-Mike sighs, heavily, like this is not the first time he has had reason to sigh today, and says, "So, you guys never actually decided who's headlining. You know that's kind of important, right?"
There's a murmur of agreement from both corners, Tom nods along with it because, yeah, maybe-Mike does have a point.
Tom sneaks a look at Ryan who just happens to be sneaking a look back at Tom. Tom smiles and shrugs. Ryan grins back, until Alex glares at him and tells him not to fraternize with the enemy. Tom hums a couple of bars of Romeo and Juliet to himself and tries to focus on what Sean is saying.
Across the room Tom hears Jon ask maybe-Mike if they have a Wii in the building. Jon Walker, Tom thinks, is a sneaky fucker.
"Dude, we are not playing Beatles Rock Band to decide who headlines." Tom knows for a fact that Jon is a dirty cheater. There's no way he completed the entire game in three days without cheating in some way.
Jon looks sad. Tom will probably have to buy him many, many drinks to make up for foiling his cunning plan.
"We could have a drinking contest," Ryan J suggests, like he read Tom's mind and got the wrong idea. "Last band to pass out headlines the tour."
Sean does not look impressed. "Yeah, that is so not a good idea."
Alex says, "We could build a sweat lodge."
"How will that help?" Ryan looks confused. Tom thinks it's kind of a good look for him.
"I dunno," Alex replies, "I just really want to build one."
"Oh for fuck's sake." Max throws his hands up in the air in what Tom feels is a slightly over-dramatic fashion. "Who has a quarter? We can flip for it, whoever wins headlines tonight then tomorrow we switch. There's four shows, we headline two each."
There's a new murmur of agreement followed by the sound of people patting their pockets for change. Maybe-Mike rolls his eyes and walks to the door muttering to himself about needing a drink. He comes back a minute later with a handful of coins and a beer.
Empires wins the toss. Tom would celebrate but he is too busy listening to Ryan telling him about all the ways Tom can make him feel better about losing. Tom thinks it may be the very definition of a win-win situation.
***
It occurs to Tom, not for the first time, that Econo Lodge does not provide quite the same level of comfort that Ryan is used to in a hotel. Or motel, as the case may be. Tom's latest clue is in the look of disdain on Ryan's face as he waves his hands at the, it has to be said, not especially large piece of vaguely off-white material he's attempted to tie around his waist, saying, "This is not what I would call a bath towel."
While Tom can see Ryan's point re: the size of the offending towel, he can also see that it has its good side. It really does not leave a whole lot to the imagination. Not that Tom actually needs to imagine Ryan naked, he's seen him that way enough times now to know exactly how he looks. But sometimes a little mystery is nice.
Tom pats the space on the bed beside him. Ryan fiddles with the towel some more then gives up, throwing it on the bathroom floor before he crosses the room.
Ryan ignores the space Tom has so carefully left for him. Instead he climbs on the bed and shuffles around until he is straddling Tom's lap. Tom is perfectly okay with this.
"You," Ryan says between kisses, "are wearing too many clothes."
Tom thinks Ryan is probably right. "I am. I should do something about that."
"Yes." Ryan nods vigorously. "Yes you should."
Ryan pulls back the comforter and the sheets and arranges the pillows while Tom is getting undressed. It feels weirdly domestic, Tom thinks, but he kind of likes that it does.
"Orgies are really hard to organize." Ryan says. "You need a really big bed or else someone always ends up falling off the side."
Tom is getting used to Ryan's way of saying things like he forgets that other people can't hear the thoughts in his head. But he still raises an eyebrow in question, because, what?
Ryan waves his hand at the bed. "It's like taking part in an orgy but not being able to see the other people in the room."
Tom is still a little confused. "Huh?"
Ryan shrugs. "Do you know how many people have had sex in an average motel bed?"
Tom does not. "No."
"Hundreds. Maybe as many as a thousand."
Tom thinks about it for a moment then says, "How about we make it a thousand and two."
Ryan grins. "Okay."
***
Tom has a little bowl on the table right beside his front door where he keeps his keys. It's a very nice bowl: nothing fancy, just made of wood, but it's just the right size and feels comfortably heavy when it's picked up. Tom really likes it and he tells Ryan all about it while they're sitting on his front steps with their bags and their guitars waiting for Al to come home.
It seems very likely that Tom's keys are sitting in his nice wooden bowl right this very second. He may or may not have forgotten to pick them up when they left for tour.
"I think," Ryan says, "I'm suffering from deja vu."
Tom nods. The situation does seem very familiar. Except for how the door was open last time they were here.
Ryan pulls his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture of their feet. "At least it's a nice day."
Tom nods again, because it is. The sun is shining, the sky is blue and Tom could quite happily sit on his steps for at least a couple of hours before he gets really bored.
"So, um when are you heading back to L.A.?" Tom knows what he wants Ryan's answer to be.
"I don't know." Ryan pauses, then his words come out in a rush. "I thought I'd stick around here for a while, if that's okay."
"Yeah," Tom says, because, "yeah, that's okay."
Ryan smiles and finishes sending his text. When he's done he shuffles a little closer and rests his head on Tom's shoulder. Tom puts his arm round Ryan's waist. Yep. Tom could sit here for hours, days even maybe.
Tom's phone buzzes in his pocket. It's an update from Ryan's twitter - a picture of their feet side by side on the steps in matching flipflops with the caption "all the time in the world". Tom can't help but grin.
Pairing: Tom Conrad/Ryan Ross
Rating: PG13
Summary: Um. Tom and Ryan are fail!boyfriends. The Young Veins and Empires go on tour together! Stuff happens!
Warnings: none. Unless ridiculousness needs to be warned for. In which case...
Disclaimer: not real.
Notes: For siryn99 because she’s awesome and I promised I'd write Ryan/Tom for her. Thanks to cmonkatiekatie for the beta. <333333
Tom doesn’t expect to find Ryan Ross sitting on the steps outside his apartment when he opens his door.
To be honest, Tom wasn’t really expecting to find anything on his doorstep at all because it isn’t like he’d come down to answer the buzzer or anything, he was just on his way to the store to buy some milk. Yeah, sometimes trash from the street ends up on the steps, and there was that one time he found a single shoe just sitting in the middle of the second step like it was waiting for its pair to show up, but on a scale of one to unexpected Ryan is pretty much at the top.
Tom blinks and opens and closes his mouth a few times. It’s early, his brain isn’t really functioning all that well yet. He’s kind of stuck on a loop that in his head sounds something like "need milk, coffee, Ryan?, coffee, coffee, milk".
Ryan blinks back. He’s got a suitcase sitting beside him and a guitar sitting beside that.
Tom does a quick count of the days in his head, just to make sure he hasn't slept through a week. Again.
When he's as sure as he can be that he knows what day it is he says, "You know the tour doesn’t start till next week, right?"
A little crease appears in the middle of Ryan's forehead as he pulls a face and says, "It's not really a tour."
"Huh?"
"What?"
"Tour." Tom sits down on the step next to Ryan. He has a feeling this conversation might go on for a while. "You said it isn't really a tour."
Ryan shrugs. "Well yeah, it's more like four shows and a festival."
And okay, Tom gets that four shows in fairly small venues and a festival appearance are not the same as a worldwide tour, but, "We're leaving the state and there are hotels involved. It's a tour."
"Hmmmm." The crease in Ryan's forehead deepens a little. Tom kind of wants to reach over and smooth it out.
"Anyway, the thing that may or may not be a tour doesn't start till next week, so..." Tom waves his hand at Ryan and his suitcase in a vague kind of a way.
Ryan nods. “Yeah. L.A. was getting…” Ryan trails off into a vague wavy hand motion of his own.
Tom tries to fill in the blanks and comes up with...nothing, because he really is not awake and he really needs coffee.
"Oh hey," Ryan says, picking up a plastic bag from the step beside him and shaking it a little in Tom's direction. "Jon said to bring milk."
"Is Jon stopping by as well?" Tom does not remember making plans with Jon. But he may have forgotten. It's been known to happen.
"What?" The crease is back in Ryan's forehead, it's making Tom's fingers twitch. "No. He just said you never have milk so I should bring some with me, or it might have been Cassie who said it, I can't really remember. I tuned out pretty early on. Jon has a tendency to ramble when he's stoned."
Tom grins at that, because, "Yeah, he does."
"Yeah." Ryan grins back.
They sit side by side on the steps grinning at each other for a moment until Tom remembers that he still does not know why Ryan is here. "So, um..." Tom does the hand waving thing again. He thinks he should probably move on to using actual words at some point, but that's unlikely to happen pre-caffeine.
"Oh." Ryan looks down at his shoes for a beat then picks a bit of fluff from the leg of his pants. "Jon says you have a really comfortable couch that you'd probably let me sleep on for a few days."
Tom's couch is not comfortable. Jon Walker is a lying liar who lies. Tom considers telling Ryan this but then Ryan might go away and Tom kind of doesn't want him to, so he settles for saying, "I do have a couch, yes."
Ryan looks up again, smiling hopefully. "I brought cookies as well. And cake, and there's some ice cream but it might be a little melted, I've been sitting out here a while now."
All of a sudden Tom can hear his mom's voice in his head telling him he's being a bad host and tutting at how he's left Ryan sitting outside and not even offered him a drink. Tom thinks his mom is probably right.
He pushes himself up from the step and grabs the handle of Ryan's suitcase. "Coffee?"
"I didn't buy any coffee." Ryan opens his grocery bag and looks inside, his face falling. "I can go back and get some?"
"No. I have coffee." Tom lets go of the suitcase and offers a hand to Ryan to help him up. "You can have some if you come inside. I mean, if you want."
"Yes. Yes, please." Ryan smiles again and takes Tom's hand, wobbling a little as he turns to pick up his guitar. Tom tells himself the reason he grips Ryan's hand a little tighter is just to help him balance.
***
Once, way back when Tom was alternating between being angry at the world and being depressed and Ryan still thought that painting birds on his face was the ultimate expression of his inner turmoil, Tom and Ryan had some, as it turned out, surprisingly good sex. Together. At the same time. With each other.
Actually now that Tom thinks about it, it happened more than once. Two or three times maybe, possibly even as many as five, Tom can't quite remember to be honest. It was a couple of years ago and he's spent a lot of the time in between then and now drunk off his ass.
But what Tom does remember is that the sex was good enough that he'd like to do it again. Only this time without the sneaking around and secrecy and the not really having enough time to totally savor the experience. Mainly, Tom thinks, he'd like to have sex with Ryan in a bed, instead of an out of the way room backstage at a venue, or a not especially hygienic truckstop bathroom. Tom has a pretty comfortable bed in his room just down the hall from where he's sitting that he thinks would be ideal.
The problem is, though, that Tom is not exactly sure of how to suggest it happen. He thinks there is probably some kind of etiquette involved. Tom's never really been all that good at etiquette.
They've had a nice day: they had some coffee, swapped stories about Jon doing stupid things, they reminisced about people they know and places they've been and right now they're sitting on the couch eating pizza and Ryan is smiling and he keeps laughing at Tom's jokes, no matter how lame they are. Tom doesn't really want to ruin it by blurting out "oh hey, wanna fuck?".
Which is a shame, because that right there is a question that Tom would really like to know the answer to.
***
Tom wakes up in the middle of the night to find Ryan sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed. In the light shining into the room from the streetlights outside Ryan kind of looks like a gargoyle. A gargoyle in paisley pajamas, but a gargoyle all the same. It's sort of creepy, Tom thinks, waking up to find someone watching you sleep. He makes a mental note to apologize to Nick next time he sees him. And also to buy some curtains.
Tom sits up a little and tries to get his brain in gear enough to speak. It doesn't really work. He means to ask Ryan what's up but it comes out more like "nnrgh?"
Luckily Ryan seems to get what he means.
"Your couch is really uncomfortable." Ryan pulls a face to emphasize his point. "Jon lied."
Tom nods in agreement and tries the speaking thing again. "Yeah. He did."
"So," Ryan says, "can I sleep in here with you?"
Tom really hopes that the speed with which he slides over to make room for Ryan does not make him seem too eager. Because he kind of is.
If Ryan notices he doesn't say anything, he just climbs in, then spends five minutes fussing with the pillow and arranging the blankets just so. Tom thinks he shouldn't really find it endearing, but he kind of does.
When Ryan is finally settled he rolls on his side and presses a quick kiss to Tom's cheek, murmuring, "Thanks," before rolling back the other way.
Tom goes back to sleep with a smile on his face.
***
Ryan is made almost entirely of elbows. Tom is sure that Ryan must have grown extra arms in the night, that would explain all the elbows. Tom isn't really complaining, though, because the reason he knows about Ryan's extra elbows is from the way they keep jabbing him as Ryan squirms around until he's settled above Tom, smiling as he leans in for a kiss. Tom has absolutely no problem with elbows if there's kissing involved. No problem at all.
They've been kissing for a while and Tom is working on undoing the buttons on Ryan's pajama top - and seriously, Tom wants to know, who in the world wears actual pajamas - when Ryan pulls back, tilting his head and screwing up his face like he's thinking really deep thoughts.
"Morning sex isn’t really that sexy. It’s all bad breath and weird hair and pillow creases and, like, sweaty but not necessarily in a good way."
"Oh." Tom stops what he's doing and lies down again. If he pouts a little too he doesn't think anyone can blame him.
Ryan rolls his eyes and undoes the remaining buttons on his pajama top, peeling it off when he's done and throwing it onto the floor beside the bed. "I wasn’t saying we shouldn’t. Just, you know, sorry about the morning breath."
Another thing Tom has absolutely no problem with right now is morning breath.
***
When Al wanders into the room Tom is sitting on the not-at-all-comfortable-to-sleep-on couch watching a game show. Ryan's stretched out beside him, his head resting in Tom's lap as he takes a nap.
Al looks at the TV for a moment, calling out the answer to a question. Once he's been proved right he turns in Tom's direction and says, "Hey man, I'll catch you later, I’m going out to grab a few beers with Ryan."
Tom looks at Al then down at Ryan. He's pretty sure Ryan is asleep so he guesses he should wake him up if he's going out for drinks with Al. On one hand Tom is glad his friends get along. On the other hand, he's kind of disappointed because if Al is going out then he and Ryan could have had the apartment to themselves for the night, but if Ryan is going with Al then it will just be Tom in on his own. And that's kind of sad.
Tom's just about to shake Ryan's shoulder to wake him up when Al stops him. "No, no, my Ryan." Tom raises an eyebrow. Al flails his hands a little. "I mean our Ryan." Al pauses again and makes a noise that's halfway between frustration and embarrassment before saying, "I’m going out with Luciani."
Ryan chooses that moment to roll on his side and fling an arm over Tom's legs like he's holding him down. Ryan mutters something unintelligible and then snuggles in closer until his forehead is resting against Tom's hip and Tom can feel the warmth of Ryan's breath starting to seep through the crotch of his jeans.
Tom absentmindedly pats at Ryan's head, smoothing the hair away from his face until Ryan hums contentedly and presses forward. Tom is pretty sure he can feel the pressure of Ryan's mouth right against his dick. His dick that is busy interpreting Ryan's position in a fairly interested way. Tom tries squirming a little but it doesn't really help so he gives up and tries to pretend like it isn't happening, because Al's eyebrows are raised so high Tom thinks he might need to get them surgically removed from his hairline just to get them back to where they're supposed to be.
"Um, so," Al pauses for a moment, "you and Ross..."
Tom shrugs.
Al's eyebrows climb even higher. Tom did not think that was possible.
"Right. Okay." Al says. "Well, um, I'll leave you to it then."
Tom doesn't get a chance to reply because Al turns and walks out the door quicker than quick. Tom thinks he hears him saying 'dude, you'll never guess who Tom's fucking' in a disbelieving voice as the door of the apartment creaks open.
Tom's trying to work out how long it will take for the whole Chicago scene to hear the gossip when Ryan rolls over again and opens his eyes.
"Is he gone?"
Tom nods his head and grins. "Yeah."
Ryan grins back, just the right side of wicked. "Good."
Ryan rolls off the couch and shuffles forward until he's settled between Tom's legs. Tom let's his head fall back and grins at the ceiling as Ryan reaches for his zip.
***
Sean is convinced they need one final practice before the first show.
Tom wants to argue that they don't, because, well, it has nothing to do with how ready they are and a whole lot to do with a conversation he'd had with Ryan earlier about scarves and ties and the interesting ways they can be used. But then Al shouts something about Max picking them up in half an hour and Tom's argument dies before it begins. If Sean already has Max and Al on his side then Tom knows from experience there is no point trying to change anyone's mind.
Ryan takes the news that Tom has to go out pretty well. He looks a little disappointed for a moment but then nods and looks thoughtful.
"We should probably practice too."
Tom doesn’t know how that's going to happen seeing as Jon is busy communing with nature out in Crystal Lake, Eric is in L.A., Than is in New York and, according to Ryan, Alex is vibing in the cosmos. Whatever that means. Tom is not entirely sure he wants to know. But Ryan mutters something about webcams and ichat so Tom reminds him to put on some pants and leaves him to it.
Practice goes well. Like really well. Sean's voice soars round the practice space, Al and Max are on fire and Ryan doesn't fall off his stool once. It's days like this that make Tom feel energised and giddy, like he can take on the world. Tom really, really fucking loves his band.
When Tom gets home Ryan is sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him. There’s pizza from his favourite place on plates instead of in the box and a candle sitting in the middle of the table. It’s shaped like a pumpkin, but still...
"You cooked."
"I ordered in." Ryan shrugs and looks down at the floor. "I'm banned from cooking. Eric made me sign something to say I wouldn't do it anymore. There was an incident."
Tom totally understands. He's only recently mastered the complexities of the toaster oven. Kitchens can be dangerous places.
And anyway, "It’s the thought that counts."
Ryan looks up again and smiles. It's the big, happy smile that makes Tom want to kiss Ryan when he sees it, so he pulls Ryan up from his chair just so he can push him up against the counter and does.
"Oh wait," Ryan breaks the kiss and points to a chocolate cheesecake that's sitting on a plate on the counter. "I made dessert. Well I defrosted it. Um, we might need to wait like an hour or two because I only remembered it half an hour ago and the instructions say three hours."
"I’m sure we can think of a way to pass the time." Tom grins and waggles his eyebrows.
Ryan grins back. "I’ve heard that cheesecake tastes better naked."
"What about pizza?"
"I dunno. Wanna find out?"
Tom grabs the plates and follows Ryan down the hall.
(As it turns out, naked pizza eating is not such a good idea. Tom makes a mental note to remember that hot food and nudity do not go together. Partially defrosted cheesecake on the other hand is definitely improved by nakedness. Tom does not even mind that he'll have to buy a whole new set of bed sheets.)
***
They're the first ones to arrive at the venue. Which is surprising and a little unsettling. Tom is a kinda worried that maybe they are in the wrong place, or that maybe it's the wrong day. It's happened before.
He's about to suggest they find someone to check with when Ryan crowds him up against the wall, muttering something about "alone time" and dressing rooms bringing back memories, and kisses him. Tom is totally okay with them maybe being in the wrong place on the wrong day just as long as there's kissing.
They've just gotten to the point where Tom is wondering if Ryan remembered to lock the door to the dressing room, and whether or not he really cares, when he hears the door open and a voice that sounds a lot like Jon's say, "Oh, hey."
Tom peers over Ryan's shoulder. He has to stand on tiptoe to do it. The reason the voice sounded a lot like Jon's is because Jon is standing in the doorway looking confused. On the plus side that means they got the day and venue right. Tom counts that as a win.
Tom smiles at Jon. Ryan on the other hand does not smile at Jon, he's too busy sucking a bruise onto Tom's neck. Tom notes that this does not stop Jon from looking confused, so Tom asks, "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm..." Jon pauses and half scowls, half pouts. "I'm trying to work out which one of you I should be threatening to beat up."
Ryan stops what he's doing and turns round to face Jon saying, "Why?"
Tom tries not to hate Jon just a little bit.
Jon says, "The best friend thing. You know the thing where I threaten violence if anything goes wrong. It's like...I can't decide who to say it to."
"Does anyone really ever do that?" Ryan tilts his head to the side like he's considering Jon's quandary.
"Do what?"
"Make threats."
"I dunno, maybe?" Jon shrugs. "Cassie's been making me watch a lot of romantic comedies, it happens in them a lot."
It takes Tom a minute or two but then he has an idea. "Um, how about you threaten us both. You know, if it will make you feel better."
"Sure yeah I can do that." Jon looks relieved, Tom feels kind of proud of himself. "So, um, consider yourselves warned."
Tom gives Jon a big smile and a thumbs up. "Thanks, man."
Ryan nods in agreement and smiles at Jon as well. "You're the best."
"I'm gonna go see if Alex has shown up yet. You two can... " Jon waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the couch in the corner of the room that Tom had not even noticed then backs out of the door, shutting it behind himself.
Tom remembers to lock it before he joins Ryan on the couch.
***
Tom is half watching the local band that's opening for them soundcheck and half working on tuning his guitar when Al taps him on the shoulder.
"Dude, band meeting."
Al has his serious face on. The one he reserves for when things are fucked up, or when he's trying to convince a girl he's interested in what she's saying. As Tom is not a girl, he figures Al is trying to tell him bad things are afoot.
Tom follows Al back to the dressing room. Ryan is huddled in a corner with the rest of his band, Tom's band is in an equally huddle-like formation in an opposite corner so Tom joins them. One of the sound guys from the venue is standing in the middle of the room looking a little exasperated. Tom thinks his name might be Mike but he cannot in all honesty be sure.
Maybe-Mike sighs, heavily, like this is not the first time he has had reason to sigh today, and says, "So, you guys never actually decided who's headlining. You know that's kind of important, right?"
There's a murmur of agreement from both corners, Tom nods along with it because, yeah, maybe-Mike does have a point.
Tom sneaks a look at Ryan who just happens to be sneaking a look back at Tom. Tom smiles and shrugs. Ryan grins back, until Alex glares at him and tells him not to fraternize with the enemy. Tom hums a couple of bars of Romeo and Juliet to himself and tries to focus on what Sean is saying.
Across the room Tom hears Jon ask maybe-Mike if they have a Wii in the building. Jon Walker, Tom thinks, is a sneaky fucker.
"Dude, we are not playing Beatles Rock Band to decide who headlines." Tom knows for a fact that Jon is a dirty cheater. There's no way he completed the entire game in three days without cheating in some way.
Jon looks sad. Tom will probably have to buy him many, many drinks to make up for foiling his cunning plan.
"We could have a drinking contest," Ryan J suggests, like he read Tom's mind and got the wrong idea. "Last band to pass out headlines the tour."
Sean does not look impressed. "Yeah, that is so not a good idea."
Alex says, "We could build a sweat lodge."
"How will that help?" Ryan looks confused. Tom thinks it's kind of a good look for him.
"I dunno," Alex replies, "I just really want to build one."
"Oh for fuck's sake." Max throws his hands up in the air in what Tom feels is a slightly over-dramatic fashion. "Who has a quarter? We can flip for it, whoever wins headlines tonight then tomorrow we switch. There's four shows, we headline two each."
There's a new murmur of agreement followed by the sound of people patting their pockets for change. Maybe-Mike rolls his eyes and walks to the door muttering to himself about needing a drink. He comes back a minute later with a handful of coins and a beer.
Empires wins the toss. Tom would celebrate but he is too busy listening to Ryan telling him about all the ways Tom can make him feel better about losing. Tom thinks it may be the very definition of a win-win situation.
***
It occurs to Tom, not for the first time, that Econo Lodge does not provide quite the same level of comfort that Ryan is used to in a hotel. Or motel, as the case may be. Tom's latest clue is in the look of disdain on Ryan's face as he waves his hands at the, it has to be said, not especially large piece of vaguely off-white material he's attempted to tie around his waist, saying, "This is not what I would call a bath towel."
While Tom can see Ryan's point re: the size of the offending towel, he can also see that it has its good side. It really does not leave a whole lot to the imagination. Not that Tom actually needs to imagine Ryan naked, he's seen him that way enough times now to know exactly how he looks. But sometimes a little mystery is nice.
Tom pats the space on the bed beside him. Ryan fiddles with the towel some more then gives up, throwing it on the bathroom floor before he crosses the room.
Ryan ignores the space Tom has so carefully left for him. Instead he climbs on the bed and shuffles around until he is straddling Tom's lap. Tom is perfectly okay with this.
"You," Ryan says between kisses, "are wearing too many clothes."
Tom thinks Ryan is probably right. "I am. I should do something about that."
"Yes." Ryan nods vigorously. "Yes you should."
Ryan pulls back the comforter and the sheets and arranges the pillows while Tom is getting undressed. It feels weirdly domestic, Tom thinks, but he kind of likes that it does.
"Orgies are really hard to organize." Ryan says. "You need a really big bed or else someone always ends up falling off the side."
Tom is getting used to Ryan's way of saying things like he forgets that other people can't hear the thoughts in his head. But he still raises an eyebrow in question, because, what?
Ryan waves his hand at the bed. "It's like taking part in an orgy but not being able to see the other people in the room."
Tom is still a little confused. "Huh?"
Ryan shrugs. "Do you know how many people have had sex in an average motel bed?"
Tom does not. "No."
"Hundreds. Maybe as many as a thousand."
Tom thinks about it for a moment then says, "How about we make it a thousand and two."
Ryan grins. "Okay."
***
Tom has a little bowl on the table right beside his front door where he keeps his keys. It's a very nice bowl: nothing fancy, just made of wood, but it's just the right size and feels comfortably heavy when it's picked up. Tom really likes it and he tells Ryan all about it while they're sitting on his front steps with their bags and their guitars waiting for Al to come home.
It seems very likely that Tom's keys are sitting in his nice wooden bowl right this very second. He may or may not have forgotten to pick them up when they left for tour.
"I think," Ryan says, "I'm suffering from deja vu."
Tom nods. The situation does seem very familiar. Except for how the door was open last time they were here.
Ryan pulls his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture of their feet. "At least it's a nice day."
Tom nods again, because it is. The sun is shining, the sky is blue and Tom could quite happily sit on his steps for at least a couple of hours before he gets really bored.
"So, um when are you heading back to L.A.?" Tom knows what he wants Ryan's answer to be.
"I don't know." Ryan pauses, then his words come out in a rush. "I thought I'd stick around here for a while, if that's okay."
"Yeah," Tom says, because, "yeah, that's okay."
Ryan smiles and finishes sending his text. When he's done he shuffles a little closer and rests his head on Tom's shoulder. Tom puts his arm round Ryan's waist. Yep. Tom could sit here for hours, days even maybe.
Tom's phone buzzes in his pocket. It's an update from Ryan's twitter - a picture of their feet side by side on the steps in matching flipflops with the caption "all the time in the world". Tom can't help but grin.