Love My Present {TABLE 10}
Summary: Number 10 in table; xmas and Brendon has a different kind of gift for Ryan.
Disclaimer: I don't own -dis mai sadfais-
"George Ryan Ross! Get your ass out of bed!" Brendon was shouting from the first floor of their small loft.
"Don't call me that," Ryan grumbled back, detangling himself from the warm sheets. His room of sorts was the only thing on the second floor and it had a balcony like railing which over looked the living room. Ryan went straight for it, looking down to see his best friend grinning up at him from the kitchen.
"Merry Christmas, Ry," he smiled.
"Happy x-mas, Bren," Ryan smiled back and descended the steps quickly to claim his own cup of the hot chocolate Brendon was making. "You slept well?" Ryan asked conversationally as they prepared their drinks and moved to the open living room.
Brendon hummed a yes and set down his cup, going to inspect the fireplace while Ryan buried himself into the couch.
Brendon asked a few moments later, "Think we could build a fire in this thing?" He was feeling particularly festive and wanted a fire to add to the scene.
Ryan laughed, "I think I could build a fire in it."
Brendon chuckled too - everyone knew Brendon was not someone you let play with fire - and took the seat beside Ryan, sitting what was probably too close.
"I didn't get you a present," Ryan murmured after a few comfortable moments of silence. He's been really busy; writing songs for The Young Vein's new album, trying to find a concrete bassist, hassling Jon to find a sturdy drummer, and, of course, trying to get signed. It feels like the beginning days of Panic! all over again, only it wasn't really called Panic! at the Disco then, it was The Summer League. Either way. . .
Brendon blushed and said, "I, uh- I had an idea, but I- I wasn't sure you- you'd like it." Ryan was curious now. Mainly because Brendon was stuttering and he only does that when he's really nervous. Ryan and William are the stutters, after all.
"Well, what is it?" Ryan asked after a moment of watched Brendon fiddle, red-faced, with his hands.
"Uh. . . P- Put down your drink," he ordered shakily. Ryan's brow furrowed a bit, but he did so, setting the hot chocolate on the end table behind him. "N- Now close your eyes," Brendon whispered.
Ryan raised his eyebrows curiously this time, but still did as he was told to. Ryan always had been a good listener.
"Ready?" Brendon asked cautiously.
"Oh my God, Brendon, just do it, already!" Ryan laughed, but was cut off by Brendon's lips. Ryan gasped and may have squeaked a bit because Brendon pulled back quickly and scampered to the other side of the couch, which wasn't very far. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I just thought- I mean- Why not, right? Jon said . . . an- What are you doing?"
Brendon stopped his babbling as Ryan clambered across the small couch silently and he even smiled and Ryan crawled into lap, pressing kisses all over his collar bone. Ryan had always had a thing for hips and collar bones; maybe that's why he's so skinny. Brendon shook his head slightly and looked down at Ryan.
"I love my present, Bren," Ryan whispered, sitting up a bit to press a proper, longer kiss to Brendon's waiting lips.
Disclaimer: I don't own -dis mai sadfais-
"George Ryan Ross! Get your ass out of bed!" Brendon was shouting from the first floor of their small loft.
"Don't call me that," Ryan grumbled back, detangling himself from the warm sheets. His room of sorts was the only thing on the second floor and it had a balcony like railing which over looked the living room. Ryan went straight for it, looking down to see his best friend grinning up at him from the kitchen.
"Merry Christmas, Ry," he smiled.
"Happy x-mas, Bren," Ryan smiled back and descended the steps quickly to claim his own cup of the hot chocolate Brendon was making. "You slept well?" Ryan asked conversationally as they prepared their drinks and moved to the open living room.
Brendon hummed a yes and set down his cup, going to inspect the fireplace while Ryan buried himself into the couch.
Brendon asked a few moments later, "Think we could build a fire in this thing?" He was feeling particularly festive and wanted a fire to add to the scene.
Ryan laughed, "I think I could build a fire in it."
Brendon chuckled too - everyone knew Brendon was not someone you let play with fire - and took the seat beside Ryan, sitting what was probably too close.
"I didn't get you a present," Ryan murmured after a few comfortable moments of silence. He's been really busy; writing songs for The Young Vein's new album, trying to find a concrete bassist, hassling Jon to find a sturdy drummer, and, of course, trying to get signed. It feels like the beginning days of Panic! all over again, only it wasn't really called Panic! at the Disco then, it was The Summer League. Either way. . .
Brendon blushed and said, "I, uh- I had an idea, but I- I wasn't sure you- you'd like it." Ryan was curious now. Mainly because Brendon was stuttering and he only does that when he's really nervous. Ryan and William are the stutters, after all.
"Well, what is it?" Ryan asked after a moment of watched Brendon fiddle, red-faced, with his hands.
"Uh. . . P- Put down your drink," he ordered shakily. Ryan's brow furrowed a bit, but he did so, setting the hot chocolate on the end table behind him. "N- Now close your eyes," Brendon whispered.
Ryan raised his eyebrows curiously this time, but still did as he was told to. Ryan always had been a good listener.
"Ready?" Brendon asked cautiously.
"Oh my God, Brendon, just do it, already!" Ryan laughed, but was cut off by Brendon's lips. Ryan gasped and may have squeaked a bit because Brendon pulled back quickly and scampered to the other side of the couch, which wasn't very far. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I just thought- I mean- Why not, right? Jon said . . . an- What are you doing?"
Brendon stopped his babbling as Ryan clambered across the small couch silently and he even smiled and Ryan crawled into lap, pressing kisses all over his collar bone. Ryan had always had a thing for hips and collar bones; maybe that's why he's so skinny. Brendon shook his head slightly and looked down at Ryan.
"I love my present, Bren," Ryan whispered, sitting up a bit to press a proper, longer kiss to Brendon's waiting lips.