He's Got Broken Things Where His Heart Should Be [s/a]
Title: He's Got Broken Things Where His Heart Should Be
Author: Kat;choosethebattle
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Brendon Urie/Ryan Ross + Brendon Urie/Dallon Weekes
Summary: "You just didn’t know it because you were so madly in love with me.”
Disclaimer: This is all false. All lyrics and other band shit belong to the respective band.
A/N: Um, hi. do you remember who i am? probably not. Enjoy this i guess. It's really short, but it's better than nothing.
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“And that was Panic! At The Disco, with their new song, The Ballad of Mona Lisa,” Ryan heard the radio, even if it was very faint, from the bathroom. And there it was, the rush of adrenaline he still got when the radio DJ said his old band’s name, even after all those years.
Once Ryan had washed his hair, he stepped into his crimson red and cream themed bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed, he picked up the light beech frame the sat next to his computer on the desk. In the frame was a picture of Brendon and himself at one of the last parties they went to together before, well before what happened. Brendon had on his thick rimmed red glasses, which Ryan had always insisted he wore all the time, a simple white tee, and black jeans, whereas Ryan wore a black and white v-neck, a grey blazer and grey pinstripe trousers.
Brendon’s face looked so innocent, even though he was as far from it as possible, he looked almost angelic, which of course, to Ryan, he always had been. The pair looked genuinely happy in the candid photo, Ryan’s slightly off centre smile showed his tiny dimples perfectly. Brendon’s pearly white teeth were showing, but his face still had a signature pout.
Ryan placed the frame back on the desk before drying his dark hair, pulling a brush through it every so often, trying to keep it in place. It wasn’t long enough to straighten anymore, so he dried it as straight as he could before sitting in the arm chair next to the window in the living room.
His phone vibrated, telling him he had very little battery left, he picked it up, but instead of plugging it in, he navigated to his phonebook, scrolled to the fifteenth contact, Brendon. He didn’t even know if he still had the same number, or if he was even in the city at the minute, but he had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. He pressed the number, and began typing.
Hey Brendon, it’s Ryan, I don’t know if you still use this number or if you’re even in the state, but I’m free all week and if you wanted to go for a drink or something and catch up, that’d be great.
Ryan pressed send after a huge intake of breath, setting phone down on the arm of the chair and standing up, straightening his sweater before slowly walking to the kitchen, humming the tune of the song that was now playing on the radio, he took a spoon from the drawer and scooped some instant coffee into a mug, when the water was boiled, he heard a vibration from the living room.
Was it Brendon? Ryan did that awkward half leap half run thing he always did into the living room and pounced on his phone. His eyes lit up, and his teeth were revealed when he saw the name. He stared at it for a minute, uncertain whether he really wanted to see what was hidden behind the “Read” button.
Hey man, I’ll be in town from tomorrow, I’ll see you in the The Bridge on 4th at eight tomorrow night, see you then.
Ryan sat looking at the bright LED screen of his phone for a long time before he took the message in and smiled to himself, breathing deeply and standing slowly.
After drinking three cups of coffee, he was buzzing, and he had no where to go, and nothing to do until tomorrow with Brendon.
He ended up changing into sweats and an old shirt to repaint his bedroom walls, the same colour, just to keep up the vibrant nature of the blood red. It took him until it was dark to finish the walls, and by then he was tired enough to sleep for a week.
At 7.30 on Saturday, Ryan left the apartment impeccably clean; that was all he’d done all day. He walked to the end of the road, crossed a few side streets and ended up on the bridge, which, quite fittingly, led to The Bridge bar where he was meeting Brendon in less than 15 minutes. He watched the dark fish swim in the murky, green water, getting lost in their path down the stream.
“Hi,” Ryan spun after hearing the quiet, very familiar voice whisper from a few feet behind him.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Ryan smiled, Way to break the ice. Brendon’s teeth shined a little when he smiled back at Ryan. The pair walking across the pebble stone road to the entrance of the bar. Neither said a word, or dared look at each other until after they’d ordered drinks.
“How are you Ryan?” Ryan must’ve been staring intently at Brendon’s flawless face, because when he snapped out of it, Brendon had that look on his face that said ‘man, stop staring at me and say words.’
“I’m fine, how’s that gin going down?” Ryan steered clear of talking about his feelings, he feared he’d start serenading Brendon or something to that effect.
“Perfect, I haven’t had gin in years, how did you remember?” Ryan breathed in before answering, so as to not sound weird and creepy.
“How could I forget, does ‘Don’t get me anything but gin Ryan, or I will pour it down your pants!’ ring a bell?” Ryan smiled at the memory, and Brendon followed suite, a slight chuckle escaping his lips before he bit it back and sipped at the glass.
“I guess I was kind of an ass to you, right?” Ryan shook his head before Brendon finished speaking, smiling modestly. “But I was you know, you just didn’t know it because you were so madly in love with me,” Brendon winked subtly before downing the rest of the gin.
“Well…” Ryan had no other words for Brendon; he’d brought up their relationship without any hesitance, probably not realising it’d make the rest of the evening a bit more awkward that it already was, never mind almost give Ryan a heart attack.
“Oh, one second, hello?” Brendon’s phone had rung three times before he picked up, Ryan stared at his mouth, moving perfectly to form words, words that sounded like a song when he spoke. “Dallon, calm down, I’ll be home soon, okay, bye, I love you too.” Dallon, who the fuck was Dallon to Brendon? “Ryan I’m sorry, Dallon thinks he might be getting a flu or something, I’ll call you when tour finishes.”
“Dallon, huh?”
“Yeah, uh, I’ll call you, see you around Ryan.”
“Bye Brendon, send Dallon my best,” He said the name with such disgust in his voice he hoped Brendon hadn’t noticed. He waved to Brendon before finishing his drink and exhaling loudly.
Brendon, and Dallon. That was the thing the kids replaced Brendon and Ryan with.
“I love you Brendon,” Ryan whispered long after Brendon had left, and earned himself a strange look from a drunken regular at the bar. “I really do.”
Author: Kat;choosethebattle
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Brendon Urie/Ryan Ross + Brendon Urie/Dallon Weekes
Summary: "You just didn’t know it because you were so madly in love with me.”
Disclaimer: This is all false. All lyrics and other band shit belong to the respective band.
A/N: Um, hi. do you remember who i am? probably not. Enjoy this i guess. It's really short, but it's better than nothing.
Tumblr
“And that was Panic! At The Disco, with their new song, The Ballad of Mona Lisa,” Ryan heard the radio, even if it was very faint, from the bathroom. And there it was, the rush of adrenaline he still got when the radio DJ said his old band’s name, even after all those years.
Once Ryan had washed his hair, he stepped into his crimson red and cream themed bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed, he picked up the light beech frame the sat next to his computer on the desk. In the frame was a picture of Brendon and himself at one of the last parties they went to together before, well before what happened. Brendon had on his thick rimmed red glasses, which Ryan had always insisted he wore all the time, a simple white tee, and black jeans, whereas Ryan wore a black and white v-neck, a grey blazer and grey pinstripe trousers.
Brendon’s face looked so innocent, even though he was as far from it as possible, he looked almost angelic, which of course, to Ryan, he always had been. The pair looked genuinely happy in the candid photo, Ryan’s slightly off centre smile showed his tiny dimples perfectly. Brendon’s pearly white teeth were showing, but his face still had a signature pout.
Ryan placed the frame back on the desk before drying his dark hair, pulling a brush through it every so often, trying to keep it in place. It wasn’t long enough to straighten anymore, so he dried it as straight as he could before sitting in the arm chair next to the window in the living room.
His phone vibrated, telling him he had very little battery left, he picked it up, but instead of plugging it in, he navigated to his phonebook, scrolled to the fifteenth contact, Brendon. He didn’t even know if he still had the same number, or if he was even in the city at the minute, but he had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. He pressed the number, and began typing.
Hey Brendon, it’s Ryan, I don’t know if you still use this number or if you’re even in the state, but I’m free all week and if you wanted to go for a drink or something and catch up, that’d be great.
Ryan pressed send after a huge intake of breath, setting phone down on the arm of the chair and standing up, straightening his sweater before slowly walking to the kitchen, humming the tune of the song that was now playing on the radio, he took a spoon from the drawer and scooped some instant coffee into a mug, when the water was boiled, he heard a vibration from the living room.
Was it Brendon? Ryan did that awkward half leap half run thing he always did into the living room and pounced on his phone. His eyes lit up, and his teeth were revealed when he saw the name. He stared at it for a minute, uncertain whether he really wanted to see what was hidden behind the “Read” button.
Hey man, I’ll be in town from tomorrow, I’ll see you in the The Bridge on 4th at eight tomorrow night, see you then.
Ryan sat looking at the bright LED screen of his phone for a long time before he took the message in and smiled to himself, breathing deeply and standing slowly.
After drinking three cups of coffee, he was buzzing, and he had no where to go, and nothing to do until tomorrow with Brendon.
He ended up changing into sweats and an old shirt to repaint his bedroom walls, the same colour, just to keep up the vibrant nature of the blood red. It took him until it was dark to finish the walls, and by then he was tired enough to sleep for a week.
At 7.30 on Saturday, Ryan left the apartment impeccably clean; that was all he’d done all day. He walked to the end of the road, crossed a few side streets and ended up on the bridge, which, quite fittingly, led to The Bridge bar where he was meeting Brendon in less than 15 minutes. He watched the dark fish swim in the murky, green water, getting lost in their path down the stream.
“Hi,” Ryan spun after hearing the quiet, very familiar voice whisper from a few feet behind him.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Ryan smiled, Way to break the ice. Brendon’s teeth shined a little when he smiled back at Ryan. The pair walking across the pebble stone road to the entrance of the bar. Neither said a word, or dared look at each other until after they’d ordered drinks.
“How are you Ryan?” Ryan must’ve been staring intently at Brendon’s flawless face, because when he snapped out of it, Brendon had that look on his face that said ‘man, stop staring at me and say words.’
“I’m fine, how’s that gin going down?” Ryan steered clear of talking about his feelings, he feared he’d start serenading Brendon or something to that effect.
“Perfect, I haven’t had gin in years, how did you remember?” Ryan breathed in before answering, so as to not sound weird and creepy.
“How could I forget, does ‘Don’t get me anything but gin Ryan, or I will pour it down your pants!’ ring a bell?” Ryan smiled at the memory, and Brendon followed suite, a slight chuckle escaping his lips before he bit it back and sipped at the glass.
“I guess I was kind of an ass to you, right?” Ryan shook his head before Brendon finished speaking, smiling modestly. “But I was you know, you just didn’t know it because you were so madly in love with me,” Brendon winked subtly before downing the rest of the gin.
“Well…” Ryan had no other words for Brendon; he’d brought up their relationship without any hesitance, probably not realising it’d make the rest of the evening a bit more awkward that it already was, never mind almost give Ryan a heart attack.
“Oh, one second, hello?” Brendon’s phone had rung three times before he picked up, Ryan stared at his mouth, moving perfectly to form words, words that sounded like a song when he spoke. “Dallon, calm down, I’ll be home soon, okay, bye, I love you too.” Dallon, who the fuck was Dallon to Brendon? “Ryan I’m sorry, Dallon thinks he might be getting a flu or something, I’ll call you when tour finishes.”
“Dallon, huh?”
“Yeah, uh, I’ll call you, see you around Ryan.”
“Bye Brendon, send Dallon my best,” He said the name with such disgust in his voice he hoped Brendon hadn’t noticed. He waved to Brendon before finishing his drink and exhaling loudly.
Brendon, and Dallon. That was the thing the kids replaced Brendon and Ryan with.
“I love you Brendon,” Ryan whispered long after Brendon had left, and earned himself a strange look from a drunken regular at the bar. “I really do.”