Fic 2.
Title: “Good mormon boys always know the WORST pick-up lines.”
Author: hypafix
Rating: M, for some language and some dirty pick up lines
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
Summary: Brendon gets ridiculously drunk and starts trying out pick-up lines on Ryan.
Disclaimer: Panic! at the Disco are their own property. I own nothing in this fic except the way the words are put together.
Beta: why_am_i
Author Notes: Some time ago, during the epic bandom meet up of blindmouse, therathasspoken, dzurlady, softlyforgotten , frankkincense,and why_am_i, someone talked about how epic a pick-up line fic between Ryan and Brendon would be. I’m probably the only one who remembers this, but it got into my head, and so, ta dah!
Brendon’s at a bar, and bars are for drinking, right? Everybody knows that.
So Brendon has a drink. And then he has another, and another, and another, and then tops it off with one more. Brendon thinks that it’s usually at this stage where people try to stop you, but hell, he’s Brendon Urie, and the rules don’t really apply to him.
Brendon begins to wonder when he started thinking about himself in the third person, before he realises that, 1, he doesn’t really care, and 2, it’s probably just the alcohol. He tries to count the number of drinks he’s had, and it’s maybe ten or so, but then again, counting has never been his forte. Across the bar, Brendon spies Ryan talking to Jon, and OK, Brendon really really doesn’t care now. He orders another drink.
You see, Brendon really, really likes Ryan, rather a lot. But he is also really, really scared that Ryan doesn’t like him that way. Brendon likes boys quite a lot, possibly more than he’s prepared to admit, but he’s pretty damn sure that Ryan likes girls because he was with Keltie forever, and they’d been engaged and stuff, and even though that’s over now, all the evidence suggests that Ryan likes girls.
All this contemplation causes Brendon to sigh, and unsurprisingly, have another drink. By now, Brendon’s not entirely sure he can really get off his stool, even though he really kinda needs a wee. He is, however, absolutely certain that alcohol fixes everything. He’s in a happy place right now; and he giggles, just to prove it. Then he giggles again, because that was pretty funny.
Eventually Ryan notices him and comes sauntering over in a gait meant to look suave and casual, but after ‘n’ years in a band with him (counting really wasn’t one of Brendon’s strong points), Brendon knows that it means that Ryan is really excited about something.
As Ryan is sauntering over, Brendon realises that he’s never really noticed the magnificence that is Ryan’s hair, and then he also thinks that he’d rather like to ruffle it. It looks rather eminently ruffleable anyway. Is ruffleable even a word? Well, it is now. Ryan’s hair proves that point.
So eventually Ryan finishes ambling casually over and plops down on the bar stool next to Brendon, hair and all.“Brendon. Darling. You’ve had rather a lot to drink and Jon and I think it’s time you headed home.” Ryan says, rather maternally.
“Ryan. Baby. Since when were you my mother?” Brendon replies, matching Ryan’s intonation exactly. “And anyway, did it hurt?”
‘What?...When?”
When you fell from Heaven, silly. Did it hurt?”
“Uh… Brendon, you’re drunk and you need to go home.”
“Ah, Ryro, do you know, I think it’s a terrible tragedy that Heaven is missing an Angel.”
“Whu-? Oh no no no no no!” Ryan splutters as Brendon spontaneously bursts into song.
“Missing one angel child, cos you’re here with me right nooooow.”
Ryan gapes..“Um…okay, uh, Brendon? I’m going to go and get Jon and we’re going to take you home.” Ryan makes his escape from Brendon, hunts down Jon Walker and returns to rescue Brendon from himself.
In the mean time, Brendon orders another drink, but doesn’t drink it this time. He passes the time flirting with the bartender and perving on Ryan’s ass.
~
“Jon, Jon, Jon Walker, you are my absolute faaaaaavourite. You know, Ryan, I really like your scarf, but I think it would look a whole lot better on my bedroom floor. Don’t you agree Jon Walker?”
Jon, who is now shaking with laughter, agreed, nodding fervently.
“Um…Brendon?”
“Yes, Ryan my love?”
“I think we need to go home now.” Ryan says, speaking slowly, as if to a toddler.
“Me too.” Brendon says seriously, matching Ryan’s intonation again.
“Really?” says a surprised Ryan.
“Oh yesssssssss Ryro. Because we can’t really have sex here. We might get arrested and then Zack would get cross.”
“Okay, you know what? I’m going to go and call Spencer, and he’s going to come pick you up and take you home. Okay?”
“To your home or to my home? Because Ryan Ross, you know, if you were a garage door, I’d slam you all night long.”
Ryan flushes bright red, dashing quickly off to call Spencer, his knight in shining armour.
While he’s gone, Brendon takes a big slurp of the drink he ordered forever ago, and spins around on his bar stool a few times, giggling, much to the amusement of Jon. Jon thinks that drunk!Brendon might just be one of his favourite things.
Eventually a serious-faced Ryan comes back. “Spencer's with Hayley, he can’t come and rescue Brendon.” Ryan stage-whispers in Jon’s ear.
“Okay. Um-”
“He bitch-faced me through the phone!” Ryan hisses.
“Wow. Serious.” Jon replies, flagging down the bartender.
“Hey Ryan.” Brendon interrupts.“Hey, Do you believe in love at first sight, or do you want me to walk past again?” he continues, as he attempts to stand up off his bar stool. “and for that matter, you’re wearing really tight pants. I’m beginning to wonder how you fit a mirror in them.” Brendon says, giving up on his dreams of becoming vertical.
Ryan’s bemused expression is as good as question.
“A mirror, you dope. I’m simply wondering if there’s a mirror in your pants. Because I can see myself in them.” Brendon concludes with a flourish. Ryan sighs wearily, appealing to Jon with his eyes. Jon, who was busy both filming and laughing at Brendon at the same time and also drinking, promptly ignores Ryans plea for help.
~
At this point, Ryan decides to make a run for the bathroom, so he can splash a bit of water on his face and sober up a bit. But before he can escape to do so, Brendon pipes up again.
“Ryan, Ryan, you’re ticklish, right?”
“Uh…yeah, a little.”
“Because I want to tickle you from the inside.” Brendon giggles.
“Oh GOD Brendon. My BRAIN!” Ryan screeches, as he runs for the bathroom. Jon Walker laughs so hard he begins to choke, prompting Brendon to drunkenly bang him on the back and order them both another drink. However, due to Brendon’s epic fail at banging on Jon’s back, this action triggers more giggles from both men, as they both dissolve into paroxysms of hilarity.
~
Ryan eventually ventures back from the bathroom and Brendon composes himself enough to gasp out “Oh gorgeous lover, give your oh-so-masculine purse for a sec? I think you’ve stolen something of mine.”
“Me? Steal your things?” Ryan questions disapprovingly.
“Yes.” Brendon replies quite seriously, snatching Ryan’s bag. “Ryan, I think you’ve stolen my heart.”
Jon snorts and attempts not to fall off his chair as Ryan groans, sinking his head into his hands. “Okay Brendon. It’s home time.” Ryan says firmly, grabbing Brendon’s arm.
“Why do you keep talking about going places Ryan Ross? You don’t need car keys to drive me crazy.” Brendon replied, extracting his arm from Ryans grasp and ordering another drink.“If we were squirrels Ryan, could I bust a nut in your hole?” Brendon sniggered, before taking a slurp of his newly arrived drink.“Now you know that I’m not that good at algebra-”
“That’s what you get for dropping out of college!” Jon crows, as he and Brendon high-five.
“-but doesn’t U+I= 69?”
“Yes!” Jon interjects, again.
Ryan’s bitch-face is generally considered to be both overused and underwhelming. However, what Jon Walker discovers right at this moment is that, under the right circumstances, Ryan’s bitch-face is even more devastating than Spencer’s. Seriously, Jon reckons Ryan could raze an entire city to the ground with the sheer force of his current glare. Jon therefore does not hesitate to leave Brendon to his fate, muttering “I’m…I’ma go dance k? bye!”
“Ryan! You scared off Jon!” Brendon whines. “I’m not even sure I want to have sex with you anymore!” He continues, huffing.
“Oh please, God” Ryan mutters, very quietly.
Brendon sulks, finishes his drink, sulks, orders another drink, sulks, finishes his drink, and then comes out with“Roses are red. Violets are blue. I like Spaghetti. Let's go fuck.”
Ryan does a double-take.
Brendon orders another drink.
“Brendon, we’re going to take you home now.”
Brendon gives an exasperated sigh.
“George Ryan Ross III, have you been listening to a single word I’ve said all evening?”
“Well, no.”
“Of course not.” Brendon sighs theatrically. “Anyway,” he continues, because drunk!Brendons are not only easily distractible but are also very forgetful and forgiving. “The general gist of it all has been that you should definitely be taking me home, Ryan Ross, because-”
“We’ll be taking you home to your house,” Ryan interrupted, “and then Jon and I will go home to our houses.”
“Uh-uh. No. That’s not how it’s supposed to happen.” Brendon says, looking genuinely distressed.
At this moment, the eternally wise Jon, tired of dancing alone, rejoins the conversation.“Brendon, I think you’ve had too much to drink tonight to get it up for Ryan. And you wouldn’t want to be a disappointing lover for Ryan, now would you?” he says calmingly.
“Jon Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt Walker, I do believe you have a point. I’m sorry my dear Ryro, but I’m afraid that our epic night of love will have to wait for the moment. But don’t worry your pretty little head about it, one of these days I’ll be coming for you.” Brendon slurs, giving Ryan an exaggerated wink.“And now gentlemen, I must take my leave from you and depart. Goodnight!” he says, before leaning over Jon and snogging Ryan full in the mouth, sliding his hand into Ryan’s (magnificently, luxuriously, wonderfully ruffleable) hair for a brief moment before disengaging, and appearing to attempt a sexy swagger out the door, leaving two stunned friends in his wake. Given how much he’s had to drink, it looks more like a duck’s waddle.
Author: hypafix
Rating: M, for some language and some dirty pick up lines
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
Summary: Brendon gets ridiculously drunk and starts trying out pick-up lines on Ryan.
Disclaimer: Panic! at the Disco are their own property. I own nothing in this fic except the way the words are put together.
Beta: why_am_i
Author Notes: Some time ago, during the epic bandom meet up of blindmouse, therathasspoken, dzurlady, softlyforgotten , frankkincense,and why_am_i, someone talked about how epic a pick-up line fic between Ryan and Brendon would be. I’m probably the only one who remembers this, but it got into my head, and so, ta dah!
Brendon’s at a bar, and bars are for drinking, right? Everybody knows that.
So Brendon has a drink. And then he has another, and another, and another, and then tops it off with one more. Brendon thinks that it’s usually at this stage where people try to stop you, but hell, he’s Brendon Urie, and the rules don’t really apply to him.
Brendon begins to wonder when he started thinking about himself in the third person, before he realises that, 1, he doesn’t really care, and 2, it’s probably just the alcohol. He tries to count the number of drinks he’s had, and it’s maybe ten or so, but then again, counting has never been his forte. Across the bar, Brendon spies Ryan talking to Jon, and OK, Brendon really really doesn’t care now. He orders another drink.
You see, Brendon really, really likes Ryan, rather a lot. But he is also really, really scared that Ryan doesn’t like him that way. Brendon likes boys quite a lot, possibly more than he’s prepared to admit, but he’s pretty damn sure that Ryan likes girls because he was with Keltie forever, and they’d been engaged and stuff, and even though that’s over now, all the evidence suggests that Ryan likes girls.
All this contemplation causes Brendon to sigh, and unsurprisingly, have another drink. By now, Brendon’s not entirely sure he can really get off his stool, even though he really kinda needs a wee. He is, however, absolutely certain that alcohol fixes everything. He’s in a happy place right now; and he giggles, just to prove it. Then he giggles again, because that was pretty funny.
Eventually Ryan notices him and comes sauntering over in a gait meant to look suave and casual, but after ‘n’ years in a band with him (counting really wasn’t one of Brendon’s strong points), Brendon knows that it means that Ryan is really excited about something.
As Ryan is sauntering over, Brendon realises that he’s never really noticed the magnificence that is Ryan’s hair, and then he also thinks that he’d rather like to ruffle it. It looks rather eminently ruffleable anyway. Is ruffleable even a word? Well, it is now. Ryan’s hair proves that point.
So eventually Ryan finishes ambling casually over and plops down on the bar stool next to Brendon, hair and all.“Brendon. Darling. You’ve had rather a lot to drink and Jon and I think it’s time you headed home.” Ryan says, rather maternally.
“Ryan. Baby. Since when were you my mother?” Brendon replies, matching Ryan’s intonation exactly. “And anyway, did it hurt?”
‘What?...When?”
When you fell from Heaven, silly. Did it hurt?”
“Uh… Brendon, you’re drunk and you need to go home.”
“Ah, Ryro, do you know, I think it’s a terrible tragedy that Heaven is missing an Angel.”
“Whu-? Oh no no no no no!” Ryan splutters as Brendon spontaneously bursts into song.
“Missing one angel child, cos you’re here with me right nooooow.”
Ryan gapes..“Um…okay, uh, Brendon? I’m going to go and get Jon and we’re going to take you home.” Ryan makes his escape from Brendon, hunts down Jon Walker and returns to rescue Brendon from himself.
In the mean time, Brendon orders another drink, but doesn’t drink it this time. He passes the time flirting with the bartender and perving on Ryan’s ass.
~
“Jon, Jon, Jon Walker, you are my absolute faaaaaavourite. You know, Ryan, I really like your scarf, but I think it would look a whole lot better on my bedroom floor. Don’t you agree Jon Walker?”
Jon, who is now shaking with laughter, agreed, nodding fervently.
“Um…Brendon?”
“Yes, Ryan my love?”
“I think we need to go home now.” Ryan says, speaking slowly, as if to a toddler.
“Me too.” Brendon says seriously, matching Ryan’s intonation again.
“Really?” says a surprised Ryan.
“Oh yesssssssss Ryro. Because we can’t really have sex here. We might get arrested and then Zack would get cross.”
“Okay, you know what? I’m going to go and call Spencer, and he’s going to come pick you up and take you home. Okay?”
“To your home or to my home? Because Ryan Ross, you know, if you were a garage door, I’d slam you all night long.”
Ryan flushes bright red, dashing quickly off to call Spencer, his knight in shining armour.
While he’s gone, Brendon takes a big slurp of the drink he ordered forever ago, and spins around on his bar stool a few times, giggling, much to the amusement of Jon. Jon thinks that drunk!Brendon might just be one of his favourite things.
Eventually a serious-faced Ryan comes back. “Spencer's with Hayley, he can’t come and rescue Brendon.” Ryan stage-whispers in Jon’s ear.
“Okay. Um-”
“He bitch-faced me through the phone!” Ryan hisses.
“Wow. Serious.” Jon replies, flagging down the bartender.
“Hey Ryan.” Brendon interrupts.“Hey, Do you believe in love at first sight, or do you want me to walk past again?” he continues, as he attempts to stand up off his bar stool. “and for that matter, you’re wearing really tight pants. I’m beginning to wonder how you fit a mirror in them.” Brendon says, giving up on his dreams of becoming vertical.
Ryan’s bemused expression is as good as question.
“A mirror, you dope. I’m simply wondering if there’s a mirror in your pants. Because I can see myself in them.” Brendon concludes with a flourish. Ryan sighs wearily, appealing to Jon with his eyes. Jon, who was busy both filming and laughing at Brendon at the same time and also drinking, promptly ignores Ryans plea for help.
~
At this point, Ryan decides to make a run for the bathroom, so he can splash a bit of water on his face and sober up a bit. But before he can escape to do so, Brendon pipes up again.
“Ryan, Ryan, you’re ticklish, right?”
“Uh…yeah, a little.”
“Because I want to tickle you from the inside.” Brendon giggles.
“Oh GOD Brendon. My BRAIN!” Ryan screeches, as he runs for the bathroom. Jon Walker laughs so hard he begins to choke, prompting Brendon to drunkenly bang him on the back and order them both another drink. However, due to Brendon’s epic fail at banging on Jon’s back, this action triggers more giggles from both men, as they both dissolve into paroxysms of hilarity.
~
Ryan eventually ventures back from the bathroom and Brendon composes himself enough to gasp out “Oh gorgeous lover, give your oh-so-masculine purse for a sec? I think you’ve stolen something of mine.”
“Me? Steal your things?” Ryan questions disapprovingly.
“Yes.” Brendon replies quite seriously, snatching Ryan’s bag. “Ryan, I think you’ve stolen my heart.”
Jon snorts and attempts not to fall off his chair as Ryan groans, sinking his head into his hands. “Okay Brendon. It’s home time.” Ryan says firmly, grabbing Brendon’s arm.
“Why do you keep talking about going places Ryan Ross? You don’t need car keys to drive me crazy.” Brendon replied, extracting his arm from Ryans grasp and ordering another drink.“If we were squirrels Ryan, could I bust a nut in your hole?” Brendon sniggered, before taking a slurp of his newly arrived drink.“Now you know that I’m not that good at algebra-”
“That’s what you get for dropping out of college!” Jon crows, as he and Brendon high-five.
“-but doesn’t U+I= 69?”
“Yes!” Jon interjects, again.
Ryan’s bitch-face is generally considered to be both overused and underwhelming. However, what Jon Walker discovers right at this moment is that, under the right circumstances, Ryan’s bitch-face is even more devastating than Spencer’s. Seriously, Jon reckons Ryan could raze an entire city to the ground with the sheer force of his current glare. Jon therefore does not hesitate to leave Brendon to his fate, muttering “I’m…I’ma go dance k? bye!”
“Ryan! You scared off Jon!” Brendon whines. “I’m not even sure I want to have sex with you anymore!” He continues, huffing.
“Oh please, God” Ryan mutters, very quietly.
Brendon sulks, finishes his drink, sulks, orders another drink, sulks, finishes his drink, and then comes out with“Roses are red. Violets are blue. I like Spaghetti. Let's go fuck.”
Ryan does a double-take.
Brendon orders another drink.
“Brendon, we’re going to take you home now.”
Brendon gives an exasperated sigh.
“George Ryan Ross III, have you been listening to a single word I’ve said all evening?”
“Well, no.”
“Of course not.” Brendon sighs theatrically. “Anyway,” he continues, because drunk!Brendons are not only easily distractible but are also very forgetful and forgiving. “The general gist of it all has been that you should definitely be taking me home, Ryan Ross, because-”
“We’ll be taking you home to your house,” Ryan interrupted, “and then Jon and I will go home to our houses.”
“Uh-uh. No. That’s not how it’s supposed to happen.” Brendon says, looking genuinely distressed.
At this moment, the eternally wise Jon, tired of dancing alone, rejoins the conversation.“Brendon, I think you’ve had too much to drink tonight to get it up for Ryan. And you wouldn’t want to be a disappointing lover for Ryan, now would you?” he says calmingly.
“Jon Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt Walker, I do believe you have a point. I’m sorry my dear Ryro, but I’m afraid that our epic night of love will have to wait for the moment. But don’t worry your pretty little head about it, one of these days I’ll be coming for you.” Brendon slurs, giving Ryan an exaggerated wink.“And now gentlemen, I must take my leave from you and depart. Goodnight!” he says, before leaning over Jon and snogging Ryan full in the mouth, sliding his hand into Ryan’s (magnificently, luxuriously, wonderfully ruffleable) hair for a brief moment before disengaging, and appearing to attempt a sexy swagger out the door, leaving two stunned friends in his wake. Given how much he’s had to drink, it looks more like a duck’s waddle.