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exsequarTitle: Flying Gorilla
Author: Anne (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
exsequar )
Fandom: Panic(!) at the Disco
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: R
Wordcount: 3,878
Summary: Brendon takes Ryan out for a special belated birthday dinner.
Author’s Notes: Fluffity fluff fluff! You might want to brush your teeth after this one, guys. Inspired entirely by this picture, which was accompanied by a story in which the fan said she saw them coming out of a restaurant alone, and when asked where Jon and Spencer was, they merely shrugged. I just had to write about what was clearly Brendon and Ryan’s special birthday date!neverneverfic, who lives in Seattle, helped me out with the identity of the hotel and probable restaurants in the area – thanks hon! Thanks also to glamorous_nymph for a speedy beta! This is my very first real bandom fic, so I hope you all enjoy :)
The plane touches down at 6:47. Thirteen minutes late. Brendon can't seem to see that as unlucky, because the plane has a Ryan on board, a freshly minted, adult Ryan, and in Brendon's book that pretty much cancels out any bad luck. His hand comes up to his face for the tenth time in as many minutes, fingers tapping out a rhythm against newly smooth skin that beats in counterpoint to the bouncing of his heels against hard utilitarian carpet. Brendon can't stay still at the best of times, music and thoughts and images ricocheting through his mind as constant as breathing, and this is not the best of times. Well, it is, but not in terms of calming Brendon Urie. There's a Ryan on that plane! Now why won't it give him up?
People begin trickling out of the arrivals door, first just one or two, developing into a steady stream of humanity. Brendon shoves his hands into his pockets, bouncing up on his toes as he cranes his neck, peering through the crowd.
Suddenly Brendon spots him. Unruly mop, hippy headband, paisley button-down - the now-familiar sight lights Brendon's face with a grin that feels like it might actually split his cheeks.
"Ross! Hey, birthday boy!" Brendon calls out. Ryan turns his head, and his face breaks into a pleased smile that has become an amazingly common occurrence. Brendon never stops being thankful for it.
Ryan starts extracting himself from the crowd, and Brendon runs forward to meet him halfway, flinging his arms around narrow shoulders. Ryan's arms come up to squeeze him back, a low chuckle vibrating through Brendon's cheek and chest where they're pressed together.
Brendon pulls back, goofy grin still plastered across his face. "Happy birthday, Ryan Ross! How does it feel to be twenty-one?" He imbues the number with what he feels is the appropriate gravitas.
Ryan laughs easily. "You asked me that last night, Brendon." His eyes are warmly amused, crinkled at the corners. "And thanks. Again."
Brendon puts on his best wide-eyed serious face. "But that was almost a whole day ago! You've had hours to become comfortable with your twenty-one-ness, to understand what it means. Do you feel manly?"
Ryan just scrunches his nose and shrugs. "Not particularly. Still same old me."
"Well, good. I would have been very sad if you had gone and changed on me, left behind a Ryan Ross too mature for me to play with." He pulls Ryan into a one-armed hug, turning to beam at the hovering Zack, who is watching them with a small smile. "See, Zack? He's still our Ryan! And you were all worried, silly."
Zack laughs, a warm, deep sound that makes Brendon feel almost as safe as Zack's sheer bulk does. "Well I'm glad my concerns were baseless, Brendon. Lucky I had you to make me see reason."
"Damn straight!" Brendon declares, squeezing Ryan.
"Happy birthday, Ryan," Zack says sincerely, proudly.
"Thanks, Zack," Ryan replies, extracting himself from Brendon's side to be engulfed in a Zack hug. Zack hugs are awesome, Brendon can attest, and Ryan gets a specially long one, his tiny torso all but engulfed by Zack's arms. Ryan finally pulls away, practically glowing with happiness, and Brendon snags him around the neck, brushing a feather-soft kiss to his temple.
"What say we blow this popsicle stand? Got some folks eager to see the birthday boy."
Ryan grins, leaning easily into Brendon's grasp. "Sounds like a plan."
+++
Brendon piles into the back seat of their rental SUV after Ryan. Zack glances up at them in the rear view mirror as he starts the engine. "Makin' me feel like a chauffeur here, Brendon."
Brendon just grins unrepentantly. "Another skill to add to your formidable list!"
When he reaches over to play gently with the curls brushing the nape of Ryan's neck, Ryan tries and fails to hide the smile tugging at his lips.
+++
Jon and Spencer are waiting for them at the Paramount Hotel in what's nominally Brendon and Ryan's room, lounging on one of the beds with Jon's head on Spencer's shoulder. The sight brings a huge grin to Ryan's face, and they respond with matching ones. Before Brendon can blink, the three of them have met at the edge of the bed, Ryan becoming the middle of a bassist-drummer sandwich. A soft "oof" escapes from his lungs, then he laughs and buries his face in Jon's shoulder.
"Hey, group hug!" Brendon exclaims happily, running forward to fling his arms around his whole band, ending up plastered to Ryan's back with his arms around Jon and Spencer's shoulders. He leans forward to nuzzle at the back of Ryan's neck and inhales deeply, squeezing everyone tighter. He kind of loves these guys.
Spencer is the first to move, extracting his arms with some difficulty, and everyone steps back reluctantly. Brendon latches his arm around Jon's waist, turning to whisper, "Hi Jon Walker!" Jon grins at him, and Brendon rests his head on Jon's shoulder, turning to regard the birthday boys.
Ryan's flushed from his enthusiastic welcome, eyes sparkling a little. Spencer is regarding him with vivid fondness, fingers laced around the back of Ryan's neck, thumbs brushing the sharp cut of his jaw. Once upon a time, Brendon felt uncomfortable witnessing these moments of intimacy, moments when the weight of their history seems to flood the room, defying outside comprehension. Not so anymore; now he just feels warmth pooling in his stomach, a deep abiding happiness.
Spencer tugs at Ryan's neck gently and Ryan obligingly ducks his head. Spencer presses a soft, tender kiss to the strip of skin between Ryan's hairline and headband, then dips his mouth to Ryan's ear, murmuring softly, something only theirs. A smile spreads across Ryan's face, breathtaking in its honesty and depth, and Brendon lets out a quiet sigh, wrapping his other arm around Jon's waist and burrowing close. They'd only been Ryan-less for a day or so, but that was a day too long in Brendon's opinion. Now they're whole again.
Spencer finally pulls away from Ryan, giving his neck one last squeeze and flashing the smile that could light up the Eastern seaboard. "Happy birthday, Ryan," he says softly, sincerely.
Jon gently disengages Brendon's arms. "My turn!" he declares and bounds forward to literally sweep Ryan off his feet, twirling him in a circle before depositing him back on the ground, blinking and laughing in surprise. "Happy day of your birth, Mr. Ross! Welcome to the Legal Club!"
"Do we get membership cards?" Ryan asks, still laughing.
"Umm, later! When I've made them!" Jon grins boyishly, eager. "It's pretty lame to have a club with one person, don't you think? But now it's you and me, we'll be unstoppable, there will be... um... a secret handshake, and passwords, and slumber parties, and-"
"Hey, hey!" Brendon interjects. "Even us unexciting illegal types get to have some Ryan time, right? No fair monopolizing him!"
"Yeah, I mean, I saw him first," Spencer puts in matter-of-factly.
"Plus, sleepovers without me and Spencer would pretty much be totally boring," Brendon adds, moving forward to link his arm in Ryan's. "I veto the Legal Club idea. It wouldn't be good for band unity," he concludes with a decisive nod. The band always comes first. Brendon isn't jealous at all, that's just a ridiculous idea.
Jon just laughs at him, shaking his head. "Okay, Brendon. No secret passwords or slumber parties without you." He may or may not wink at Ryan conspiratorially, but Brendon decides to let it slide. He turns and buries his nose in Ryan's neck.
"Can it be Brendon time now?" he asks plaintively. Brendon feels the stretch and flex of Ryan's throat as he smiles, and Ryan's fingers card gently through his hair.
"Of course. Got something in mind?"
Brendon presses a kiss to the fragile skin just over Ryan's pulse point. "Always do!" He grabs Ryan's hand and tugs him towards the door. He throws a grin over his shoulder at a fondly amused Jon and Spencer. "Don't worry, Mom and Pop, I'll have her home by midnight!"
The punch Ryan lands on his upper arm is surprisingly solid, and Brendon pouts extravagantly as Jon yells after them, "I'm Pop, right?" The subsequent yelp tells Brendon that Spencer, too, was unnecessarily violent in retaliation.
+++
"The Cheesecake Factory, Brendon? Really?" Ryan's deep voice is tinged with laughter as Brendon tugs him through the door of the brightly lit building.
"Yep! I think it's the perfect setting for a romantic birthday dinner, don't you?" Brendon asks teasingly. "Plus, cheesecake! In, like, a million flavors! Try to tell me that isn't awesome."
Ryan just laughs, and Brendon knows without looking that he's shaking his head fondly. Brendon always does his best to keep Ryan smiling, and he's especially glad it's working tonight.
The restaurant is bustling, packed to the brim with chattering patrons, families and couples and friends. The decor is cheerful and pleasant, abundant lighting and rich red tones giving the place a warm, welcoming ambiance. Brendon gives his last name to the maitre'd, and they're led to a small table along one wall.
Ryan still looks vaguely amused as he flips open his menu.
"What's so funny, Ross?" Brendon asks flippantly.
"Oh, nothing. I just can't quite believe you're taking me out to dinner. This place is pretty public." There's no real reprimand in his tone, just a sort of wry amusement and resignation to all things Urie. Brendon can live with that.
"What, can't two old buddies share a meal? It's not like I'm making googly eyes at you or anything." He stretches out his leg and gently brushes Ryan's calf with his foot, waggling his eyebrows and laughing as Ryan jerks his leg away.
"Brendon!" Ryan hisses, trying for repressive and landing somewhere between giggling and exasperated. Brendon just laughs again and flips open his own menu, heading straight for the drinks section.
"So, mister birthday boy, what'll it be? A Caribbean Cooler? A Flying Gorilla? Or, ooh ooh, a Strawberry Creamsicle!" He beams at Ryan excitedly. There's no way Ryan can think that's not cool. It's like ice cream - with alcohol!
Ryan just raises an eyebrow.
"Oh, come onnn." Brendon wheedles good-naturedly. "I'm taking you out for your twenty-first birthday; tradition demands that you buy a drink! You don't need to even get tipsy or anything, it's just the principle of the thing. You can, so you do!" He nods firmly. Ryan can't possibly argue with his impeccable logic.
Ryan rolls his eyes, but he's smiling again. Sometimes Ryan's about as unyielding as a wet paper towel, mostly when it's Brendon he's trying to resist. Brendon shamelessly takes advantage of this fact at every opportunity. Satisfied, he returns to listing out exciting-sounding drinks.
"Hmm, how about a Bikini Martini? That one's fun to say! Bikini Martini Bikini Martini..."
Ryan jabs him in the arm with a long finger. Brendon grins at him, unfazed. "What? It is! Oh, you could get a Well-Mannered Dirty Martini! Or you could be a girl and get a Cosmopolitan..."
"Are you even looking at what's in these, Brendon?"
"Nope! I just like the names," Brendon replies cheerfully. "So, what'll it be, Ross?"
Lips twisted thoughtfully, Ryan skims his eyes down the list. "I think I'll just get a Long Island Iced Tea."
"Bo-ring!" Brendon proclaims, flinging his hands in the air. "Where's your sense of adventure, Ross? Your sense of fun?"
"I think I left it in Europe," Ryan says dryly, smirking. "Whoops!"
When the waitress comes by, Brendon orders himself a Coke, and then adds quickly, "And my friend here will have a Flying Gorilla."
The glare Ryan shoots him is half-hearted at best. Brendon just grins, innocent as the newly driven snow. "It's got ice cream in it!" he says happily. Ryan gives up any attempt at protest, laughing.
Their waitress, a middle-aged woman with a dirty blonde ponytail and laugh lines, smiles at them with the amused tolerance of the wise elder for the capricious youth. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for ID," she says to Ryan, winking at Brendon.
Ryan digs his wallet out and produces his driver's license. The woman grins knowledgeably and says, "Happy birthday!" as she hands it back. "Don't worry, your friend has made a fine choice. You'll love the Gorilla."
Pleased with this validation of his total shot in the dark (Flying Gorilla is an awesome name), Brendon grins at their fabulous waitress. Oh yeah, this was the best idea ever.
+++
"So, how was New York?" Brendon asks. He could probably have seen stuff online ("Guitarist of Emo-punk-dance-cabaret Phenom Panic! at the Disco Finally Grows Up!") but that's just stupid. He's got the best primary source there is.
A genuine smile breaks over Ryan's face. "It was great," he says happily. "Keltie popped out of a fucking box. And there was a cake with some dumbass picture of me when I was, like, twelve that she found online." He laughs down at the table, running a hand through his mess of curls. "I ate my face as soon as I could, because seriously, it made for one fugly cake."
Brendon laughs, thinking about the scrawny, subdued kid he'd met three years ago. That kid bears almost no resemblance to the flushed, happy young man sitting across from him right now. Becoming one year older might mean that Ryan can order all the ridiculous drinks he wants, but the transformation Ryan has undergone between 20 and 21 warrants parades in the streets, as far as Brendon's concerned.
"That sounds awesome," he says, grinning at the mental images. "Out of a box? Really? You lucky man, you."
Ryan ducks his head, smiling as he plays with the corner of his napkin. He glances up at Brendon and says quietly, "Yeah, I am."
Struck by Ryan's sudden subdued sincerity, Brendon lets his grin soften, leaning forward and trying to think of something to say that isn't completely inane.
That's when Ryan's Flying Gorilla arrives.
+++
The Flying Gorilla is as awesome as Brendon predicted. Sweet and creamy, with just a warm hint of alcohol laced throughout. Brendon may or may not end up "borrowing" more than half of it, but Ryan doesn't seem to mind. The dinner is yummy too, and they chat easily about this and that, months of endless sharing small spaces never seeming to rob them of their easy companionship. Quite the contrary, to be honest. Brendon feels closer to his bandmates after their whirlwind year and a half than he ever has to anyone else in his whole life.
Somehow, that goes double for Ryan. They'd always had a distinct chemistry, a textbook case of opposites attracting as surely as magnets, but over the past few months Ryan has loosened, warmed, opened up like a flower responding to the coaxing kiss of spring sunshine. The analogy is obviously apt, Brendon muses, reflecting fondly on the quirky, sweet lyrics of one of the songs they'd decided to share with audiences on the festival circuit. He knows he has Keltie largely to thank for this beautiful new Ryan, and he is thankful, genuinely and effusively so. But the ever-evolving close-knit relationship of their band has played its own central role in the Rebirth of Ryan Ross, as Brendon likes to call it in his head. Brendon's glad Ryan got to spend his birthday with Keltie, glad that he obviously had a blast, but he's also glad that their Ryan has been returned to his rightful place.
He thinks of Ryan's quiet admission, before the Gorilla interruption, and suddenly very much wants to be someplace that isn't here, where they're surrounded by eyes and camera phones and the all-too-familiar "Hey, isn't that-?" He slumps back in his chair, patting his stomach with an extravagant sigh. "I'm stuffed!"
"That could be because you just ate a serving the size of Switzerland," Ryan comments, wiping his mouth neatly with his napkin.
Brendon snorts. "Fine thing for you to say, Mr. I-Just-Ate-A-Whole-Cow." He never fails to be amazed at the sheer quantity of food that Ryan can manage to put away. He has nowhere to fit it all!
Ryan just rolls his eyes fondly, smiling across the table with lazy contentedness. Brendon grins back from his position of food-induced torpor, then flags down the waitress, asking for the check. She grins, "Sure thing, honey," and drops a wink at Ryan. Brendon laughs as she walks away.
"Dude, she's totally in your age bracket now. You should totally hit that."
Ryan just thwacks him under the table with his foot, but there's no force to it. More of a love tap, really.
"Oh, now you wanna play footsie, huh? Can't even wait 'til we get back to the hotel?" He grins suggestively, making full use of his expressive eyebrows, but his stomach does a little hop-skip.
It turns out that the wink hadn't been a slightly skeevy come-on after all, because the waitress returns with three handsome young men in tow, placing a piece of cheesecake in front of Ryan with a flourish. It's got a lit sparkler in it, and Ryan laughs as the men burst into a rousing rendition of "It's Your Birthday, Hurrah!" The singing men are quite handsome indeed, but Brendon doesn't take his eyes off Ryan, who's vivid and flushed with the unexpected attention. Brendon can't help but join in on the last line of the simple little ditty, and Ryan's smile gets turned on him for a glowing moment, affection tugging the corners of his lips even wider.
Ryan graciously thanks their minstrels and the waitress, who chucks him under the chin and wishes him happy birthday again. "Now make a wish!"
Ryan's eyes meet Brendon's past the riotous light of the sparkler before he closes them, pausing for a second before extinguishing the tiny flame. There's a smattering of applause, then the waitress places the check on the table and smiles at them warmly. "You boys have a good night, now."
They thank her, and the mini-chorus moves away with murmured well-wishes.
Despite their professed fullness, they manage to make quick work of the cheesecake (traditional graham-cracker crust, delicious) and Brendon gets the sense that Ryan wants out of there as badly as he does.
"All set?" he asks.
Ryan slides the last bite off his fork with a satisfied noise and nods, smiling his newly trademarked, goofy little smile. Brendon mentally marks the venture off as a success.
+++
Outside, Brendon tugs up the hood of his awesome new hoodie-peacoat-thing, purchased in Paris and pretty much the most comfortable thing he's ever worn. It's not quite September, but there's a bite in the air already this far north. The walk back to the hotel is nearly uneventful, but they're stopped by a fan across the street from the Paramount. She's polite and friendly; they readily sign a scrap of paper and pose for a photo, but Brendon can tell Ryan's a bit put out. He understands why; for a moment there, it had almost felt like they were just anybody, celebrating Ryan's birthday like normal people do, without anyone taking notice. But they can't ever seem to fly completely under the radar anymore. Ryan is perfectly nice to the girl, though, and they continue on their way after only a minute or so.
Inside the elevator, Brendon slips his hand inside Ryan's, eliciting a surprised glance, complete with questioning eyebrow. Brendon just smiles and bounces on his toes a little, staring up at the floor numbers and willing the elevator to move faster. After a moment, Ryan's fingers squeeze his gently, and Brendon smiles to himself.
A pleasant ding announces their arrival at the appropriate floor, and Brendon tugs Ryan out of the elevator, down the hall to their door. Brendon knows Jon and Spencer will have cleared out by now, probably taking advantage of room service and pay per view in their own room. Proper hotels still feel like a luxury after all their time on the road in a rather suffocating bus. Brendon is particularly grateful right now for the blissful guarantee of privacy. He slips the keycard in the door and pushes it open, pulling a pliant Ryan after him.
The door clicks shut quietly. Ryan starts a question, "Brendon, are you-?" but Brendon doesn't let him finish, swallowing and silencing the words with his own lips on Ryan's. Ryan stiffens a little in surprise, but soon relaxes, lips parting and his whole body seeming to melt against Brendon. Brendon disentangles their fingers and slips his arms around narrow hips, kissing Ryan slow and sweet for a moment before pulling back and smiling brightly.
"Hey there, birthday boy," he says, enjoying the way Ryan's eyes have gone a little wide and confused, but a little turned on too, almost despite himself.
"Brendon, this- it's- it's been a while," Ryan says slowly, cautiously, feeling out the waters.
Brendon nods, dimming his full-watt grin to a reassuring smile. "I know. But it's your birthday, and I thought I'd give you a little something special, for old time's sake. Don't worry, I cleared it with Keltie."
Ryan lets out a surprised bark of laughter. "You what? Are you actually telling me that you called my girlfriend and asked if you could take advantage of me?"
"Exactly!" Brendon replies cheerfully. "Well, I asked her if I could give you a celebratory blowjob, because I give really good head, and she seemed a little affronted that perhaps she wasn't satisfying your blowjob needs, but I reassured her that you are more than happy with her, as evidenced by the constant hippy-esque contentment, but that guys just naturally know some of the best tricks and that I wouldn't be so much replacing her as supplementing her efforts to make you the most relaxed dude in the history of ever." Brendon bounces a little at the end of his speech, squeezing Ryan around the waist. "Come on, no guy says no to a blowjob."
The amused disbelief on Ryan's face fades to fondness and something a little darker, sending a pleased shiver up Brendon's spine. "I'm going to have to send Keltie the biggest bouquet ever," he states, before leaning in and recapturing Brendon's lips. Brendon makes a happy noise and opens his mouth for Ryan immediately, their tongues sliding together with the ease of familiarity. Brendon hooks his fingers into Ryan's waistband and starts tugging him towards the bed closest to the door, their progress slowed by the enthusiastic making out going on. When Brendon feels the edge of the mattress against the back of his legs, he tugs on Ryan to get him to turn, then pushes gently, disengaging their lips and sending Ryan to the mattress with a thump. Ryan laughs, a little breathless, a little mussed, a lot beautiful. Brendon sends up a little prayer of thanks to generous, awesome, hippy girlfriends, before sinking to his knees and reaching for the buttons of Ryan's vest.
Author: Anne (
exsequar )Fandom: Panic(!) at the Disco
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: R
Wordcount: 3,878
Summary: Brendon takes Ryan out for a special belated birthday dinner.
Author’s Notes: Fluffity fluff fluff! You might want to brush your teeth after this one, guys. Inspired entirely by this picture, which was accompanied by a story in which the fan said she saw them coming out of a restaurant alone, and when asked where Jon and Spencer was, they merely shrugged. I just had to write about what was clearly Brendon and Ryan’s special birthday date!
neverneverfic, who lives in Seattle, helped me out with the identity of the hotel and probable restaurants in the area – thanks hon! Thanks also to glamorous_nymph for a speedy beta! This is my very first real bandom fic, so I hope you all enjoy :)The plane touches down at 6:47. Thirteen minutes late. Brendon can't seem to see that as unlucky, because the plane has a Ryan on board, a freshly minted, adult Ryan, and in Brendon's book that pretty much cancels out any bad luck. His hand comes up to his face for the tenth time in as many minutes, fingers tapping out a rhythm against newly smooth skin that beats in counterpoint to the bouncing of his heels against hard utilitarian carpet. Brendon can't stay still at the best of times, music and thoughts and images ricocheting through his mind as constant as breathing, and this is not the best of times. Well, it is, but not in terms of calming Brendon Urie. There's a Ryan on that plane! Now why won't it give him up?
People begin trickling out of the arrivals door, first just one or two, developing into a steady stream of humanity. Brendon shoves his hands into his pockets, bouncing up on his toes as he cranes his neck, peering through the crowd.
Suddenly Brendon spots him. Unruly mop, hippy headband, paisley button-down - the now-familiar sight lights Brendon's face with a grin that feels like it might actually split his cheeks.
"Ross! Hey, birthday boy!" Brendon calls out. Ryan turns his head, and his face breaks into a pleased smile that has become an amazingly common occurrence. Brendon never stops being thankful for it.
Ryan starts extracting himself from the crowd, and Brendon runs forward to meet him halfway, flinging his arms around narrow shoulders. Ryan's arms come up to squeeze him back, a low chuckle vibrating through Brendon's cheek and chest where they're pressed together.
Brendon pulls back, goofy grin still plastered across his face. "Happy birthday, Ryan Ross! How does it feel to be twenty-one?" He imbues the number with what he feels is the appropriate gravitas.
Ryan laughs easily. "You asked me that last night, Brendon." His eyes are warmly amused, crinkled at the corners. "And thanks. Again."
Brendon puts on his best wide-eyed serious face. "But that was almost a whole day ago! You've had hours to become comfortable with your twenty-one-ness, to understand what it means. Do you feel manly?"
Ryan just scrunches his nose and shrugs. "Not particularly. Still same old me."
"Well, good. I would have been very sad if you had gone and changed on me, left behind a Ryan Ross too mature for me to play with." He pulls Ryan into a one-armed hug, turning to beam at the hovering Zack, who is watching them with a small smile. "See, Zack? He's still our Ryan! And you were all worried, silly."
Zack laughs, a warm, deep sound that makes Brendon feel almost as safe as Zack's sheer bulk does. "Well I'm glad my concerns were baseless, Brendon. Lucky I had you to make me see reason."
"Damn straight!" Brendon declares, squeezing Ryan.
"Happy birthday, Ryan," Zack says sincerely, proudly.
"Thanks, Zack," Ryan replies, extracting himself from Brendon's side to be engulfed in a Zack hug. Zack hugs are awesome, Brendon can attest, and Ryan gets a specially long one, his tiny torso all but engulfed by Zack's arms. Ryan finally pulls away, practically glowing with happiness, and Brendon snags him around the neck, brushing a feather-soft kiss to his temple.
"What say we blow this popsicle stand? Got some folks eager to see the birthday boy."
Ryan grins, leaning easily into Brendon's grasp. "Sounds like a plan."
+++
Brendon piles into the back seat of their rental SUV after Ryan. Zack glances up at them in the rear view mirror as he starts the engine. "Makin' me feel like a chauffeur here, Brendon."
Brendon just grins unrepentantly. "Another skill to add to your formidable list!"
When he reaches over to play gently with the curls brushing the nape of Ryan's neck, Ryan tries and fails to hide the smile tugging at his lips.
+++
Jon and Spencer are waiting for them at the Paramount Hotel in what's nominally Brendon and Ryan's room, lounging on one of the beds with Jon's head on Spencer's shoulder. The sight brings a huge grin to Ryan's face, and they respond with matching ones. Before Brendon can blink, the three of them have met at the edge of the bed, Ryan becoming the middle of a bassist-drummer sandwich. A soft "oof" escapes from his lungs, then he laughs and buries his face in Jon's shoulder.
"Hey, group hug!" Brendon exclaims happily, running forward to fling his arms around his whole band, ending up plastered to Ryan's back with his arms around Jon and Spencer's shoulders. He leans forward to nuzzle at the back of Ryan's neck and inhales deeply, squeezing everyone tighter. He kind of loves these guys.
Spencer is the first to move, extracting his arms with some difficulty, and everyone steps back reluctantly. Brendon latches his arm around Jon's waist, turning to whisper, "Hi Jon Walker!" Jon grins at him, and Brendon rests his head on Jon's shoulder, turning to regard the birthday boys.
Ryan's flushed from his enthusiastic welcome, eyes sparkling a little. Spencer is regarding him with vivid fondness, fingers laced around the back of Ryan's neck, thumbs brushing the sharp cut of his jaw. Once upon a time, Brendon felt uncomfortable witnessing these moments of intimacy, moments when the weight of their history seems to flood the room, defying outside comprehension. Not so anymore; now he just feels warmth pooling in his stomach, a deep abiding happiness.
Spencer tugs at Ryan's neck gently and Ryan obligingly ducks his head. Spencer presses a soft, tender kiss to the strip of skin between Ryan's hairline and headband, then dips his mouth to Ryan's ear, murmuring softly, something only theirs. A smile spreads across Ryan's face, breathtaking in its honesty and depth, and Brendon lets out a quiet sigh, wrapping his other arm around Jon's waist and burrowing close. They'd only been Ryan-less for a day or so, but that was a day too long in Brendon's opinion. Now they're whole again.
Spencer finally pulls away from Ryan, giving his neck one last squeeze and flashing the smile that could light up the Eastern seaboard. "Happy birthday, Ryan," he says softly, sincerely.
Jon gently disengages Brendon's arms. "My turn!" he declares and bounds forward to literally sweep Ryan off his feet, twirling him in a circle before depositing him back on the ground, blinking and laughing in surprise. "Happy day of your birth, Mr. Ross! Welcome to the Legal Club!"
"Do we get membership cards?" Ryan asks, still laughing.
"Umm, later! When I've made them!" Jon grins boyishly, eager. "It's pretty lame to have a club with one person, don't you think? But now it's you and me, we'll be unstoppable, there will be... um... a secret handshake, and passwords, and slumber parties, and-"
"Hey, hey!" Brendon interjects. "Even us unexciting illegal types get to have some Ryan time, right? No fair monopolizing him!"
"Yeah, I mean, I saw him first," Spencer puts in matter-of-factly.
"Plus, sleepovers without me and Spencer would pretty much be totally boring," Brendon adds, moving forward to link his arm in Ryan's. "I veto the Legal Club idea. It wouldn't be good for band unity," he concludes with a decisive nod. The band always comes first. Brendon isn't jealous at all, that's just a ridiculous idea.
Jon just laughs at him, shaking his head. "Okay, Brendon. No secret passwords or slumber parties without you." He may or may not wink at Ryan conspiratorially, but Brendon decides to let it slide. He turns and buries his nose in Ryan's neck.
"Can it be Brendon time now?" he asks plaintively. Brendon feels the stretch and flex of Ryan's throat as he smiles, and Ryan's fingers card gently through his hair.
"Of course. Got something in mind?"
Brendon presses a kiss to the fragile skin just over Ryan's pulse point. "Always do!" He grabs Ryan's hand and tugs him towards the door. He throws a grin over his shoulder at a fondly amused Jon and Spencer. "Don't worry, Mom and Pop, I'll have her home by midnight!"
The punch Ryan lands on his upper arm is surprisingly solid, and Brendon pouts extravagantly as Jon yells after them, "I'm Pop, right?" The subsequent yelp tells Brendon that Spencer, too, was unnecessarily violent in retaliation.
+++
"The Cheesecake Factory, Brendon? Really?" Ryan's deep voice is tinged with laughter as Brendon tugs him through the door of the brightly lit building.
"Yep! I think it's the perfect setting for a romantic birthday dinner, don't you?" Brendon asks teasingly. "Plus, cheesecake! In, like, a million flavors! Try to tell me that isn't awesome."
Ryan just laughs, and Brendon knows without looking that he's shaking his head fondly. Brendon always does his best to keep Ryan smiling, and he's especially glad it's working tonight.
The restaurant is bustling, packed to the brim with chattering patrons, families and couples and friends. The decor is cheerful and pleasant, abundant lighting and rich red tones giving the place a warm, welcoming ambiance. Brendon gives his last name to the maitre'd, and they're led to a small table along one wall.
Ryan still looks vaguely amused as he flips open his menu.
"What's so funny, Ross?" Brendon asks flippantly.
"Oh, nothing. I just can't quite believe you're taking me out to dinner. This place is pretty public." There's no real reprimand in his tone, just a sort of wry amusement and resignation to all things Urie. Brendon can live with that.
"What, can't two old buddies share a meal? It's not like I'm making googly eyes at you or anything." He stretches out his leg and gently brushes Ryan's calf with his foot, waggling his eyebrows and laughing as Ryan jerks his leg away.
"Brendon!" Ryan hisses, trying for repressive and landing somewhere between giggling and exasperated. Brendon just laughs again and flips open his own menu, heading straight for the drinks section.
"So, mister birthday boy, what'll it be? A Caribbean Cooler? A Flying Gorilla? Or, ooh ooh, a Strawberry Creamsicle!" He beams at Ryan excitedly. There's no way Ryan can think that's not cool. It's like ice cream - with alcohol!
Ryan just raises an eyebrow.
"Oh, come onnn." Brendon wheedles good-naturedly. "I'm taking you out for your twenty-first birthday; tradition demands that you buy a drink! You don't need to even get tipsy or anything, it's just the principle of the thing. You can, so you do!" He nods firmly. Ryan can't possibly argue with his impeccable logic.
Ryan rolls his eyes, but he's smiling again. Sometimes Ryan's about as unyielding as a wet paper towel, mostly when it's Brendon he's trying to resist. Brendon shamelessly takes advantage of this fact at every opportunity. Satisfied, he returns to listing out exciting-sounding drinks.
"Hmm, how about a Bikini Martini? That one's fun to say! Bikini Martini Bikini Martini..."
Ryan jabs him in the arm with a long finger. Brendon grins at him, unfazed. "What? It is! Oh, you could get a Well-Mannered Dirty Martini! Or you could be a girl and get a Cosmopolitan..."
"Are you even looking at what's in these, Brendon?"
"Nope! I just like the names," Brendon replies cheerfully. "So, what'll it be, Ross?"
Lips twisted thoughtfully, Ryan skims his eyes down the list. "I think I'll just get a Long Island Iced Tea."
"Bo-ring!" Brendon proclaims, flinging his hands in the air. "Where's your sense of adventure, Ross? Your sense of fun?"
"I think I left it in Europe," Ryan says dryly, smirking. "Whoops!"
When the waitress comes by, Brendon orders himself a Coke, and then adds quickly, "And my friend here will have a Flying Gorilla."
The glare Ryan shoots him is half-hearted at best. Brendon just grins, innocent as the newly driven snow. "It's got ice cream in it!" he says happily. Ryan gives up any attempt at protest, laughing.
Their waitress, a middle-aged woman with a dirty blonde ponytail and laugh lines, smiles at them with the amused tolerance of the wise elder for the capricious youth. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for ID," she says to Ryan, winking at Brendon.
Ryan digs his wallet out and produces his driver's license. The woman grins knowledgeably and says, "Happy birthday!" as she hands it back. "Don't worry, your friend has made a fine choice. You'll love the Gorilla."
Pleased with this validation of his total shot in the dark (Flying Gorilla is an awesome name), Brendon grins at their fabulous waitress. Oh yeah, this was the best idea ever.
+++
"So, how was New York?" Brendon asks. He could probably have seen stuff online ("Guitarist of Emo-punk-dance-cabaret Phenom Panic! at the Disco Finally Grows Up!") but that's just stupid. He's got the best primary source there is.
A genuine smile breaks over Ryan's face. "It was great," he says happily. "Keltie popped out of a fucking box. And there was a cake with some dumbass picture of me when I was, like, twelve that she found online." He laughs down at the table, running a hand through his mess of curls. "I ate my face as soon as I could, because seriously, it made for one fugly cake."
Brendon laughs, thinking about the scrawny, subdued kid he'd met three years ago. That kid bears almost no resemblance to the flushed, happy young man sitting across from him right now. Becoming one year older might mean that Ryan can order all the ridiculous drinks he wants, but the transformation Ryan has undergone between 20 and 21 warrants parades in the streets, as far as Brendon's concerned.
"That sounds awesome," he says, grinning at the mental images. "Out of a box? Really? You lucky man, you."
Ryan ducks his head, smiling as he plays with the corner of his napkin. He glances up at Brendon and says quietly, "Yeah, I am."
Struck by Ryan's sudden subdued sincerity, Brendon lets his grin soften, leaning forward and trying to think of something to say that isn't completely inane.
That's when Ryan's Flying Gorilla arrives.
+++
The Flying Gorilla is as awesome as Brendon predicted. Sweet and creamy, with just a warm hint of alcohol laced throughout. Brendon may or may not end up "borrowing" more than half of it, but Ryan doesn't seem to mind. The dinner is yummy too, and they chat easily about this and that, months of endless sharing small spaces never seeming to rob them of their easy companionship. Quite the contrary, to be honest. Brendon feels closer to his bandmates after their whirlwind year and a half than he ever has to anyone else in his whole life.
Somehow, that goes double for Ryan. They'd always had a distinct chemistry, a textbook case of opposites attracting as surely as magnets, but over the past few months Ryan has loosened, warmed, opened up like a flower responding to the coaxing kiss of spring sunshine. The analogy is obviously apt, Brendon muses, reflecting fondly on the quirky, sweet lyrics of one of the songs they'd decided to share with audiences on the festival circuit. He knows he has Keltie largely to thank for this beautiful new Ryan, and he is thankful, genuinely and effusively so. But the ever-evolving close-knit relationship of their band has played its own central role in the Rebirth of Ryan Ross, as Brendon likes to call it in his head. Brendon's glad Ryan got to spend his birthday with Keltie, glad that he obviously had a blast, but he's also glad that their Ryan has been returned to his rightful place.
He thinks of Ryan's quiet admission, before the Gorilla interruption, and suddenly very much wants to be someplace that isn't here, where they're surrounded by eyes and camera phones and the all-too-familiar "Hey, isn't that-?" He slumps back in his chair, patting his stomach with an extravagant sigh. "I'm stuffed!"
"That could be because you just ate a serving the size of Switzerland," Ryan comments, wiping his mouth neatly with his napkin.
Brendon snorts. "Fine thing for you to say, Mr. I-Just-Ate-A-Whole-Cow." He never fails to be amazed at the sheer quantity of food that Ryan can manage to put away. He has nowhere to fit it all!
Ryan just rolls his eyes fondly, smiling across the table with lazy contentedness. Brendon grins back from his position of food-induced torpor, then flags down the waitress, asking for the check. She grins, "Sure thing, honey," and drops a wink at Ryan. Brendon laughs as she walks away.
"Dude, she's totally in your age bracket now. You should totally hit that."
Ryan just thwacks him under the table with his foot, but there's no force to it. More of a love tap, really.
"Oh, now you wanna play footsie, huh? Can't even wait 'til we get back to the hotel?" He grins suggestively, making full use of his expressive eyebrows, but his stomach does a little hop-skip.
It turns out that the wink hadn't been a slightly skeevy come-on after all, because the waitress returns with three handsome young men in tow, placing a piece of cheesecake in front of Ryan with a flourish. It's got a lit sparkler in it, and Ryan laughs as the men burst into a rousing rendition of "It's Your Birthday, Hurrah!" The singing men are quite handsome indeed, but Brendon doesn't take his eyes off Ryan, who's vivid and flushed with the unexpected attention. Brendon can't help but join in on the last line of the simple little ditty, and Ryan's smile gets turned on him for a glowing moment, affection tugging the corners of his lips even wider.
Ryan graciously thanks their minstrels and the waitress, who chucks him under the chin and wishes him happy birthday again. "Now make a wish!"
Ryan's eyes meet Brendon's past the riotous light of the sparkler before he closes them, pausing for a second before extinguishing the tiny flame. There's a smattering of applause, then the waitress places the check on the table and smiles at them warmly. "You boys have a good night, now."
They thank her, and the mini-chorus moves away with murmured well-wishes.
Despite their professed fullness, they manage to make quick work of the cheesecake (traditional graham-cracker crust, delicious) and Brendon gets the sense that Ryan wants out of there as badly as he does.
"All set?" he asks.
Ryan slides the last bite off his fork with a satisfied noise and nods, smiling his newly trademarked, goofy little smile. Brendon mentally marks the venture off as a success.
+++
Outside, Brendon tugs up the hood of his awesome new hoodie-peacoat-thing, purchased in Paris and pretty much the most comfortable thing he's ever worn. It's not quite September, but there's a bite in the air already this far north. The walk back to the hotel is nearly uneventful, but they're stopped by a fan across the street from the Paramount. She's polite and friendly; they readily sign a scrap of paper and pose for a photo, but Brendon can tell Ryan's a bit put out. He understands why; for a moment there, it had almost felt like they were just anybody, celebrating Ryan's birthday like normal people do, without anyone taking notice. But they can't ever seem to fly completely under the radar anymore. Ryan is perfectly nice to the girl, though, and they continue on their way after only a minute or so.
Inside the elevator, Brendon slips his hand inside Ryan's, eliciting a surprised glance, complete with questioning eyebrow. Brendon just smiles and bounces on his toes a little, staring up at the floor numbers and willing the elevator to move faster. After a moment, Ryan's fingers squeeze his gently, and Brendon smiles to himself.
A pleasant ding announces their arrival at the appropriate floor, and Brendon tugs Ryan out of the elevator, down the hall to their door. Brendon knows Jon and Spencer will have cleared out by now, probably taking advantage of room service and pay per view in their own room. Proper hotels still feel like a luxury after all their time on the road in a rather suffocating bus. Brendon is particularly grateful right now for the blissful guarantee of privacy. He slips the keycard in the door and pushes it open, pulling a pliant Ryan after him.
The door clicks shut quietly. Ryan starts a question, "Brendon, are you-?" but Brendon doesn't let him finish, swallowing and silencing the words with his own lips on Ryan's. Ryan stiffens a little in surprise, but soon relaxes, lips parting and his whole body seeming to melt against Brendon. Brendon disentangles their fingers and slips his arms around narrow hips, kissing Ryan slow and sweet for a moment before pulling back and smiling brightly.
"Hey there, birthday boy," he says, enjoying the way Ryan's eyes have gone a little wide and confused, but a little turned on too, almost despite himself.
"Brendon, this- it's- it's been a while," Ryan says slowly, cautiously, feeling out the waters.
Brendon nods, dimming his full-watt grin to a reassuring smile. "I know. But it's your birthday, and I thought I'd give you a little something special, for old time's sake. Don't worry, I cleared it with Keltie."
Ryan lets out a surprised bark of laughter. "You what? Are you actually telling me that you called my girlfriend and asked if you could take advantage of me?"
"Exactly!" Brendon replies cheerfully. "Well, I asked her if I could give you a celebratory blowjob, because I give really good head, and she seemed a little affronted that perhaps she wasn't satisfying your blowjob needs, but I reassured her that you are more than happy with her, as evidenced by the constant hippy-esque contentment, but that guys just naturally know some of the best tricks and that I wouldn't be so much replacing her as supplementing her efforts to make you the most relaxed dude in the history of ever." Brendon bounces a little at the end of his speech, squeezing Ryan around the waist. "Come on, no guy says no to a blowjob."
The amused disbelief on Ryan's face fades to fondness and something a little darker, sending a pleased shiver up Brendon's spine. "I'm going to have to send Keltie the biggest bouquet ever," he states, before leaning in and recapturing Brendon's lips. Brendon makes a happy noise and opens his mouth for Ryan immediately, their tongues sliding together with the ease of familiarity. Brendon hooks his fingers into Ryan's waistband and starts tugging him towards the bed closest to the door, their progress slowed by the enthusiastic making out going on. When Brendon feels the edge of the mattress against the back of his legs, he tugs on Ryan to get him to turn, then pushes gently, disengaging their lips and sending Ryan to the mattress with a thump. Ryan laughs, a little breathless, a little mussed, a lot beautiful. Brendon sends up a little prayer of thanks to generous, awesome, hippy girlfriends, before sinking to his knees and reaching for the buttons of Ryan's vest.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2008-01-20 08:25 pm (UTC)heee!
lovely.
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Date: 2008-01-22 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-22 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-22 06:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 09:18 pm (UTC)Lovely lovely job! I like the intimacy you created with all of them. This was actually my favorite part:
Spencer tugs at Ryan's neck gently and Ryan obligingly ducks his head. Spencer presses a soft, tender kiss to the strip of skin between Ryan's hairline and headband, then dips his mouth to Ryan's ear, murmuring softly, something only theirs.
I love the little details, it's such a beautiful image. *hearts;
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Date: 2008-01-22 07:01 pm (UTC)Thank you sweetie! I really really loved writing the four of them together, probably the best, actually. And I loved leaving the Ryan and Spencer stuff implied and secretive. I'm really glad it worked for you :D
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Date: 2008-01-20 09:26 pm (UTC)I had the biggest grin on my face all the way through, I just love reading about the boys being happy and snuggly and bff. Beautifully done. xx
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Date: 2008-01-22 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 10:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-22 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 10:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-22 07:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 12:00 am (UTC)OK, but on to the actual story. That's basically everything I wanted it to be. So fluffy! I will never ever get tired of fluffy, sexy Brendon/Ryan. Never.
And even though it was only kind of a small part of this, I liked how you dealt with the Real Life girlfriend thing. That's the best way to go about it, I think.
I love Brendon's run-on sentence near the end. That's perfect, and totally how I think Brendon actually speaks half the time.
A+++.
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Date: 2008-01-22 07:07 pm (UTC)Aww, yay! I'm really glad it worked for you, sweetie. I had such Angst about how to deal with the Keltie thing - I wasn't going to take that tack at first, but then I was like, but that makes Ryan look like a cheating ass! So I just made Brendon be a weird yet awesome dork. It fits, methinks *g* Thank you so much for reading and telling me what you thought! ♥
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Date: 2008-01-21 02:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-22 07:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 03:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-22 07:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 12:45 pm (UTC)I keep forgetting that the internet doesn't follow me around, it only lives in my comjputer... :S
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Date: 2008-01-21 03:08 pm (UTC)How about you toss me an email? starlight1013 at gmail dot com. I'll be around all afternoon so we can talk it out!
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Date: 2008-01-22 12:57 am (UTC)This was so wondrously lovely and intimate, especially that little scene with Spencer and Ryan, and the bit with Ryan and Brendon looking at each other over the sparkler, omg. Both times, my stomach did a little swoop.
♥ ♥ ♥
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Date: 2008-01-22 07:12 pm (UTC)Awwww. Yay for swoopy tummy! I'm glad I captured their dynamics as I imagine them well enough in words for them to come across to you :D Thank youuu! <333
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Date: 2008-01-22 05:13 pm (UTC)I laughed so hard. This is awesome.
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Date: 2008-01-22 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 07:08 pm (UTC)(And I've got YOUR Unreliable Narrators on my to read list forever, I will get there, I swear!)
((Icon twinz! :D))
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Date: 2008-03-11 08:54 pm (UTC)And no worries. *g*
(This was my first bandom icon ever, you know. Back when I was like Dear flist: if I ever have a bandom icon, stage an intervention. HA! Like, half of them are bandom by now).
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Date: 2008-04-25 11:33 am (UTC)Very, very enjoyable.