Put my enemies to sleep (3/3)
Notes - Part One - Part Two - Part Three
--
"Do you see our problem?" the other Brendon asked pleasantly.
"Umm," Brendon said. "Well. I don't -- how are you real, again?"
"You wanted me to be," the other Brendon said. He was holding his face weirdly, and it was distracting to Brendon -- the quirk of his eyebrows was all wrong, and so was the set of his jaw. "Come on. Did you actually think you got everything done by yourself? With no help? Working full-time, rehearsing until your hands went numb and you lost your voice, carrying a full courseload? And you did that all on your own? Right. You needed help. That's where I came in."
"You," Brendon tried. He cleared his throat.
It was probably a good thing that Brendon couldn't seem to make himself speak, because he wanted to ask the person sitting in front of him if this person was really an exact duplicate of Brendon and if he'd been doing crazy things like running Brendon's life for him. That is not a question that should ever be asked, because that was a question that didn't make any kind of sense, Brendon thought.
"Need some water?" the other Brendon asked. Brendon nodded. His doppelganger came back with a glass of water from the kitchen. "Here."
"Thanks," Brendon rasped.
"No problem."
Brendon rubbed at his temples, muttering, "This is -- this is insane. I don't even -- fucking Fight Club bullshit."
"Yes!" the other Brendon said, sounding delighted. "Yes, it's just like Fight Club. Mostly. Well. You're not imagining me as a separate person, I actually am separate, just. Not all the time, like, only when you need me, I guess. But I did come from you. So, I guess it's only kind of -- I mean, I'm, you made me. It's not like I'm not real, at least most of the time. I guess it's not really all that much like Fight Club. I don't -- I don't know how it works, really, or why. You could call me Tyler anyway, though," he added hopefully.
"Okay, uh, sure," Brendon said. "But -- how are you even. You're actually real?" Brendon reached out to poke the other -- Tyler. He felt real enough.
"I already told you I am, just not always," Tyler said impatiently.
"It's a lot to take in," Brendon snapped. He glanced at Tyler warily. "So, you, like. Started existing to do my homework for me?"
"Among other things," the other Brendon said. "For example, Ryan wasn't sleeping with Pete on the Nintendo Fusion tour. He never was. You were, though."
"Wait, what?" Brendon dropped the glass and it shattered, sending glass shards and water spilling everywhere.
The other Brendon shrugged, eyeing the mess. "Okay, not you-you. I was. But Pete thought I was you, so. And not really so much on the Fusion tour, mostly before, like in LA and out here when Pete came to listen for the first time."
That's why we got signed, Brendon thought numbly. Everyone who ever said anything about us being his pet band was right. He took a deep breath. "Why did Pete never -- I mean, how did I not know?"
"Oh, come on, it's Pete. He lives for doomed love affairs. I just had to say some angsty stuff about being scared of the gay stigma and he totally played along. I mean, I also may have implied that there was a video of him fucking me that would be leaked if he did something to piss me off," the other Brendon said.
"Yeah, but you didn't really film -- oh my God," Brendon groaned, burying his head in his hands.
"It's really hot, actually. I mean, it's sketchy as hell, 'cause Pete didn't know I was filming, but it's a pretty flattering clip," Tyler said.
"I can't fucking believe you," Brendon said, shaking his head hard, trying to make sense of everything.
"Well, you made me," Tyler said, reaching over to pet him mock-gently.
"No! I didn't!" Brendon shouted, shoving him away.
"I'm not just fucking with you here," Tyler said with a scowl. "I've been running around for more than a year now taking care of everything that you couldn't deal with. You should be thanking me."
Brendon scrubbed at his face, closing his eyes tightly. "I can't fucking deal with this."
"You've been saying that for way too long now. Grow the fuck up already," Tyler said.
"Go away," Brendon said, refusing to take his hands away from his face.
"No," Tyler snarled. He grabbed Brendon's wrists and yanked hard, pulling him off-balance until they were close and Brendon had to open his eyes or completely fall over. "You may not want to hear this, but you know what? I don't fucking care. Things don't just magically happen. I had to work hard to set certain events in motion, and I think it's time you got a handle on that. So shut the fuck up and listen already."
Brendon tried squirming away, but Tyler held onto him tightly, grinding the bones of his wrists. "Let me go."
"You were scared that you wouldn't get signed, and you couldn't take that extra step to do something, so I had to, and maybe it was the wrong step but all's well that ends well, right? And then you decided to move out instead of just keeping your head down, so I had to clean up that mess. I even stayed back here and kept working at the Goddamn Tropical Smoothie Café once you went to Maryland. You stuck your head in the sand when Ryan's dad got checked back into the hospital, so I had to fuck him to get him to stop moping so Goddamn much -- "
"What?" Brendon said, going still.
"Shut up and let me finish," Tyler snarled, shaking him. "The Q&A session can come later. So I had to fix Ryan -- which you went ahead and fucked up, thanks a lot -- and then there were the tours with Academy, waking up with your hangovers, and then, finally, we come to Brent."
"Brent?"
"Seriously, that didn't occur to you yet? I got him off the bus and then you guys just fell apart. All I had to do was make him miss one show, and then you, Ryan, and Spencer managed the rest," Tyler said, letting go of Brendon. Brendon sank down to the sofa, shell-shocked. At some point his brain was going to stop repeating its endless loop of whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck, but until then he couldn't really get himself to think through the haze of disbelief.
"I don't get it," he said finally. "Why did you do that to Brent?"
"You're the one who was wishing he was someone else," Tyler said.
"I didn't want Brent gone," Brendon said numbly.
"Well, it all worked out, didn't it? And that's what you wanted, right? You just wanted everything to work out. I just gave you what you wanted. That's all I've done, actually, every step of the way, I've just done what you wanted, okay?" Tyler said.
"I don't want you," Brendon shouted, standing up and stomping away from Tyler. "I don't -- this is fucking crazy, and I don't want you and I never wanted you."
"Give it to me once more with feeling, okay?" Tyler said, sounding unimpressed. "Are you done freaking out? We have things to talk about."
"Like what?"
"What we're going to do about this thing with Ryan. You know, you really should have taken his hints and just gone with the flow. You both would have been much happier. Me too," Tyler told him, going to the broom closet for a dustpan.
"Shut the fuck up about Ryan," Brendon said, head spinning.
"Fine, have it your way," Tyler said, scooping up the glass into the pan. "I thought you wanted to hear about how he isn't crazy and from his side of things, you really have been pulling some Jekyll and Hyde crap with him, you know? But I guess you figured that, at least."
"What do you even want?" Brendon asked dully. Tyler sat down in the chair next to the sofa, reaching out and touching his knee. Brendon let him, because he felt too tired and worn too thin to do anything else.
Tyler took a deep breath. "Look. I've been running around for over a year now doing your dirty work, and I'm frankly bored with it. So. New plan. Instead of you having all the fun and me doing all the work -- "
"Fucking Ryan was my dirty work, then," Brendon said bitterly.
"If you really want to know, yes," Tyler said. "He figured out I was sleeping with Pete. So, you know, he was jealous and felt inferior and blah blah blah, it was all pretty pitiful. He wasn't going to be happy alone, and he wasn't going to make the first move after he found out I slept with Pete, and if Ryan didn't have at least one of us distracting him, he probably would've been completely unable to handle everything that's happened with his father since the accident and he would've fucked the whole band over royally. So I fucked him, and you played the part of the sweetheart boyfriend. Problem solved."
"That simple, then, huh?" Brendon said angrily.
"Yep," Tyler said, jaw set just a little too tense to be convincingly confident.
Brendon let out a groan of frustration, mumbling to himself. "God, I don't even know what I'm supposed to do."
"We need to get back to that important conversation we were having. The one where you get to start doing the errands and I get to start being the rock star. I helped you out a little, in the beginning, but it's really hard to get you to not force your way onto whatever stage we're facing. But I want to do the band thing. I've done the casting couch and the manipulation, now I want to do the fun part. Don't you think that's fair?" Tyler looked at him expectantly.
"Well, no, because it's my life, not yours," Brendon said.
"It was your life, and now it's our life. I didn't ask to be here. You made me. Now share, asshole," Tyler said.
"I don't have to share something that you don't have any right to," Brendon snapped. "I don't even know why you're here right now if you supposedly only show up when I need you."
"You needed me to tell you all this, because you weren't going to let yourself think about it," Tyler said patiently.
"You shouldn't even be here, ever, much less now," Brendon said.
"But here I am anyway," Tyler said. He sat back, considered Brendon. "I didn't get a manual, you know. I had to figure these things out without you. It was -- it was pretty scary the first time I showed up. It was after the audition with Pete. I showed up outside his hotel that night, and I didn't know who I was or what was happening. Pete happened to be headed outside to get his iPod from the rental car and he saw me and said, 'hey, Brendon!' If he hadn't used your name I don't know if I could've figured anything out at all. But when he said your name I kind of automatically reacted to it. Like when a computer fills in a password for you because you told it to save the password, that was what it was like. And I figured out that if I kept my mind open and didn't try to think too hard or rationalize it, then I could just know things. Whatever you knew."
"Is that working right now?" Brendon asked tentatively.
"No," Tyler said. He scrunched his face up. "I don't know why, actually. Maybe it's that I never really, you know, had to look you in the face. Maybe -- maybe when we're together, we can't, like, mind-meld or whatever."
Brendon furrowed his brow. "Does that work both ways? Like, you get my memories, how come I don't have yours?"
"You might be able to, I don't know," Tyler said, sounding interested.
Brendon closed his eyes, letting himself think of Ryan; the night in England on their first tour when he could barely stand, he was so tired, and Ryan took him back to the van like he knew exactly what to do. Because he did. That was Brendon's first kiss with Ryan, but it wasn't Ryan's first kiss with Brendon. The memory ached a little, with the perspective of hindsight.
Ryan's first kiss with Brendon was when he was just getting out of the shower, the same day that Brendon had to pick Ryan up at the hospital. Brendon had had to leave, go help his parents in an attempt to mend bridges. Tyler went into the bathroom when Ryan was staring at his reflection with just a towel around his waist, only a small patch of unfogged mirror for him to look at. Tyler touched Ryan's arm and then folded him into a hug. Ryan fought at first. He didn't want comfort, he wanted to wallow. His misery was practically another limb.
Tyler didn't let Ryan fight away, he just held him, determined to make Ryan better however possible. Tyler didn't know what to do. Tyler closed his eyes and breathed Ryan in, bringing a protective arm up around his shoulders, cradling his head to Tyler's shoulder, trying to decide what to do. Needing an answer, having no one to ask. Ryan tugged away for some toilet paper to wipe his face, and it was clear he'd been embarrassed about crying.
When Ryan pulled away, the way the light caught Ryan's tearstained face hit Tyler right in his gut and he grabbed onto Ryan, pulling him in and kissing him hard. Ryan went still, uncertain, and then Tyler's hands slid down Ryan's arms to his wrists, and he pressed firmly against Ryan's pulse. "Hey, I'm here," he'd said softly, and Ryan smiled, and believed him.
It wasn't dirty work. It wasn't Tyler manipulating Ryan so the band would stay together. It was Tyler kissing Ryan because he wanted him, and Ryan kissing back because he wanted to. Brendon could feel it, the intensity of Ryan's response, all the way through Tyler's memories. He touched his mouth, feeling light-headed.
"Looks like you got something from me, anyway. Feels weird, huh? What'd you get?" Tyler was saying. Brendon had to blink hard to make sense of the words.
"First time you kissed Ryan," Brendon said finally.
"Oh," Tyler said, suddenly quiet. Brendon looked up at him and saw for the first time something that he could recognize as himself, instead of someone wearing his skin all wrong. Tyler looked...vulnerable. Brendon was maybe a little too familiar with that feeling.
"I thought it'd be different, you and him," Brendon said.
"You'd think it would be," Tyler agreed.
"I think I should go lie down now," Brendon said.
"I'll lie down with you, if you want," Tyler said. Brendon glanced at him. It was so strange to see himself, sitting there looking uncertain and clearly trying so hard to be brave.
"Yeah, okay," Brendon said after a moment of hesitation. There wasn't really another answer to give.
--
"Do you feel real?" Brendon whispered. He was curled on his side, facing Tyler. Tyler's posture was an unconscious mirror of his own, one hand tucked under his cheek. They weren't touching, weren't even close to it, but Brendon could feel the warmth from his body. They were lying on top of the sheets, sweating in the searing Vegas heat. Neither of them had stripped at all, they'd just fallen asleep in their jeans and t-shirts. Normally, Brendon slept naked, but he had found himself unexpectedly shy in front of Tyler.
"Kind of," Tyler whispered back. "Does 'I think, therefore I am?' still work if so many of my thoughts are yours?"
"I don't know," Brendon said honestly.
Tyler reached out tentatively, putting his hand on top of Brendon's. Brendon let him, closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep at last.
--
"You're still here," Brendon said when he woke up. It was still dark. He'd rolled over in his sleep, Tyler spooned up against him. Tyler was awake.
"Yeah," Tyler said. Brendon turned in the loose circle of Tyler's arms, their faces close. Brendon licked his lips, staring at Tyler. It wasn't like looking in a mirror, especially not this close. It was like someone else was wearing his skin, pulling his features just slightly differently, enough to set him off balance. Tyler cleared his throat. "I never fell asleep. I always -- I go away when I sleep, you know."
Brendon reached up and cupped Tyler's face, tracing his fingertips over Tyler's skin. It didn't feel like touching himself. Tyler let him explore, rubbing his fingers lightly through Tyler's hair, over the shell of his ear, the slope of his jaw, the jut of his chin, the curve of his lips. Tyler slipped a hand up to wrap around Brendon's neck.
Tyler closed his eyes as Brendon's hand drifted up over his cheekbones, tracing his nose up to his broad forehead and then stroking back down.
"Why now?" Brendon whispered. "Why are you telling me everything now?"
"I'm here now," Tyler whispered back. He smiled crookedly, keeping his eyes closed. "I don't know. It kind of seemed like the right time. With the Ryan thing, and Brent, and just. I'm making this up as I go along. I didn't mean for it to get so -- so fucked up."
"I know," Brendon said tiredly, closing his eyes. It was true. Hard to lie to yourself, he figured.
Brendon leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to Tyler's, so that he and Tyler were sharing breath. "I don't -- " he said thickly, then gave up on words and kissed Tyler softly, just touching their lips together. All he had to do to break contact was tilt his head down the barest fraction of an inch. Tyler let him, then tipped his head and kissed him back, sucking lightly on Brendon's lower lip. Brendon felt Tyler tighten his grip on his neck, and he pressed against Tyler's cheek in response.
Tyler pulled back, opening his eyes and staring at Brendon. "Thought this would gross you out," Tyler murmured. His mouth stayed open, lips darkened and wet.
"Not right now," Brendon said, struck with the odd urge to just wander, experiment. In response, Tyler kissed him again, pushing his tongue into Brendon's mouth and flicking his way back out. Brendon sucked Tyler's tongue into his mouth and ran his hand down to settle at Tyler's waist, nudging himself closer.
It didn't feel as surreal as it should have, maybe. Brendon had found out early that kissing boys was just about the same as kissing girls, warm and wet and usually eager with the small fumbling that came from trying to be familiar with someone else's body. Kissing Tyler wasn't so much different from kissing Ryan, really; Brendon couldn't tell that he and Tyler might as well have been twins with his eyes closed and his mind lost to slow exploring.
Tyler broke contact and started kissing his way across Brendon's jaw, down his neck, stopping to suck gently at the skin and swirl his tongue, tasting Brendon's sweat. Brendon tilted his head back to give him better access, slipping his hand under Tyler's shirt.
"Are we really doing this?" Tyler asked, stroking Brendon's hair.
"If you want," Brendon said. He just wanted to lose himself in something that wasn't real, to just let someone else take control for a little while. Everything was so completely fucked up, and nothing was going to change the gigantic mess he'd made for himself, but that didn't mean he had to fix everything right away.
"I want," Tyler said, voice rough. It made Brendon shiver, a little.
"Okay, then," Brendon whispered. Tyler kissed him hard, biting into his mouth enough to make it throb along the sharp line of his teeth set into Brendon's lip.
"I wanna fuck you," Tyler breathed into Brendon's mouth.
"Yeah, okay," Brendon said. He licked his lips.
"Don't do me any favours, now," Tyler jibed, tipping his head to the side and biting Brendon's earlobe, hard and quick.
Brendon cupped Tyler's face in his palms, pressing their foreheads together. "I want it," he said, feeling suddenly fierce and vulnerable. Tyler kissed him again, and Brendon opened for him, relaxing into the curl of arousal in his veins, letting himself just feel. Tyler pushed him over onto his back, getting a leg in between Brendon's and grinding his hip down a little, testing the waters. Brendon rolled his hips back and smoothed a hand down the curve of Tyler's spine, dipping fingertips into the back of his pants' waistband. Tyler pushed down harder, rutting against Brendon's thigh.
Tyler sat up and pulled his shirt up over his head, dropping it over the side of the bed. Brendon traced the line of his waist, rubbing his thumb over a nipple until it hardened.
"It's like touching someone else," Brendon said softly.
"I am someone else," Tyler said, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding the zipper down slowly, deliberately.
"Not really," Brendon said. He helped Tyler work his jeans down, snapping the elastic band of his briefs before tugging them off, careful with Tyler's cock, flushed and hard. Tyler smirked down at him, rolling to his feet and kicking his clothes away. Brendon lifted his own hips, hooking his thumbs into his jeans and briefs and shimmying out of them together. Tyler crawled over his body, shoving his shirt up. Brendon lifted his arms, sitting up a little and letting Tyler struggle him out of it. Tyler settled against him, hissing when their cocks made contact. "Is watching you going to be like watching myself come?"
"Watching other people come is hot," Tyler said, rubbing down against Brendon. Brendon's eyes slipped shut and he bit his lip, twisting his hips up. "Hey, there still lube in the dresser drawer?"
Brendon moaned in response, hooking his leg up over Tyler's hip and grinding up, "Fuck, just -- just s'good, okay?"
"Hey," Tyler said sharply, reaching for Brendon's wrists and pinning them to the bed in a quick, snapping movement. Brendon arched, but Tyler was holding himself up over Brendon's, keeping their bodies apart. He leaned his weight into Brendon's hips, making Brendon squirm a little at the flare of pain. "You want to do this or not?"
"Yeah, c'mon," Brendon said, shifting.
"Then let me get the lube," Tyler said, planting a brief biting kiss on Brendon's mouth before sitting back on his haunches and reaching to dig through the dresser drawer. Brendon stayed still while Tyler fussed with the cap on the lube, trying to keep himself from thinking about what was happing. Brendon grabbed a pillow from under his head and lifted his hips, sliding it beneath them. Tyler nudged his legs apart and crouched between them. Brendon tensed up a little when Tyler's fingertip rubbed over his hole, shying away from the cold.
It had been long enough that the first push was unfamiliar, and Brendon shifted his hips awkwardly. Tyler was surprisingly careful in the way he twisted his fingers into Brendon slowly, one at a time, working them out completely before adding another. Brendon tried to keep his breathing even, and mostly failed.
"Ready?" Tyler asked, punctuating the question with a curl of his fingers. Brendon swore and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Tyler fumbled for a condom, lube-sticky fingers slipping on the packet.
"Use your teeth," Brendon said impatiently.
"No way, man, I'm always scared I'm gonna, like, bite through it," Tyler said, rolling the condom on over his cock. Brendon snorted, watching him himself a few times before lifting his legs pointedly. Tyler inched forward, crouching. "Yeah, yeah. Here, get your legs over my shoulders."
"Um, no," Brendon said, scrunching his face up.
"I know you're flexible," Tyler said dryly. He stroked Brendon's ankles, leaning down and pressing his chest to the backs of Brendon's thighs. Brendon let him, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach at the look of desire on Tyler's face. Tyler reached down and gripped at his dick, rubbing the head over Brendon's hole.
"Fine, yeah, do it," Brendon grunted, trying to push down. Tyler started working his cock in slowly, little rolls of his hips. He paused for a moment with his hips pressed flush to Brendon's ass, eyes wide.
Tyler pulled out slowly, leaving the tip of his dick just barely in Brendon's ass, and took a breath before slamming in hard.
"Fuck," Brendon gasped, bearing down for each harsh thrust of Tyler's cock into his ass, feeling raw and barely stretched even with lube slicking the way and the memory of Tyler's fingers working him open. Tyler wasn't going slow, wasn't being gentle or careful, and Brendon guessed that made sense, knowing his own limits, knowing that it would -- and did, God -- hurt but that there were different kinds of hurting, like the kind that had a sharp edge of pleasure sparking with each wince. This was a good hurt, being spread and forced open like this.
Brendon tried to work his hips up, tried to work with Tyler's rhythm, but gave up and just let Tyler have him, push him into the mattress and pound into him, only dimly noting the slapping of their flesh together. He couldn't really reach his cock with Tyler pressing down against him, keeping his chest level against Brendon's thighs and working his hips hard, and he wanted to get off, wanted to come with Tyler still inside him, wanted to feel Tyler fuck him through the lingering slow waves of his orgasm.
Tyler leaned back, letting Brendon's legs slip down, chuckling a little when Brendon winced. Brendon settled his legs up around Tyler's waist, sucking in a ragged and bracing himself for a fresh onslaught. The new angle was tighter, but it let Brendon arch down and shove himself onto Tyler's cock.
Brendon's head was pounding, little stuttering half-sentences that didn't make sense even in his own mind, and he reached down to fumble for his dick, squeezing hard. He rubbed his thumb over the head of his dick, desperate now for release, for anything to relieve the ache of want in his body. Tyler's thrusts were getting sloppy, shorter and rougher, and Brendon closed his eyes and just felt, just let his hips grind up against Tyler, let his fingers work his cock, let his back arch, God, he was so close, and Tyler just kept fucking, their harsh gasping breaths ghosting together, and then just one more and Brendon was coming apart, voice cracking as he whimpered, coming in a hot rush between their bodies.
Tyler didn't hesitate, didn't slow down at all, taking Brendon higher with each slam of his cock into Brendon's ass, making him writhe, drawing out his orgasm. It left him shaking and open, sore and shuddering as Tyler buried his face in the crook of Brendon's neck and thrust just a few more times, just enough to make his pulse throb almost too painfully, and then his cock was jerking inside of Brendon and he was crying out. He collapsed on top of Brendon, weight pinning him down. Brendon waited for them to both catch their breath before he nudged at Tyler, wincing at the sliding withdrawal of Tyler's dick.
Brendon rolled onto his side, ignoring the mess in favour of the tantalizing pull of sleep. The sheets needed cleaning anyway. Tyler pressed up against him, sticky with sweat and come, and it probably should have been gross, but Brendon really just wanted to sleep and not think, so he did and did not.
--
Brendon woke up alone to the ringing of his Sidekick on the floor where he'd plugged it in. He fumbled himself upright and hit Answer without looking.
"H'lo," he managed.
"Jon needs to get picked up at the airport," Ryan said. Brendon scrunched up his face, trying to wake up. He pulled the phone from his face and squinted at the screen -- ten a.m. Fuck.
Brendon pushed his glasses on, shoving them up the bridge of his nose while he tried to get his thoughts together.
"Hello?" he called out. The bathroom door was open and the light wasn't on. The apartment was silent. Brendon got up and padded out to the living room. "Hello?" Empty.
Belatedly, he remembered Ryan, and jerked the phone back to his cheek, wincing at Ryan's impatient shouting. "Are you listening?"
"What, what?" Brendon asked, heading back into the bedroom. He shook his jeans out. His keys were still there, and his Sidekick was still plugged in next to the bed. Everything was where he left it. Tyler was just...gone.
"Jon needs to get picked up at the airport," Ryan was saying.
"Yeah, uh-huh," Brendon said. He pressed the phone to his ear with his shoulder, rifling through his wallet. Nothing was missing.
"Well? Can you?" Ryan asked.
"Sure, just -- " Brendon sat down heavily on the bed. "What time does he get in?"
"I emailed you," Ryan said. "Practice at five. Me and Spencer are eating before. See you there." He hung up before Brendon could say goodbye.
--
Brendon channel-flipped halfheartedly for a while, checking the time on his Sidekick every few minutes, until it was time to leave to go get Jon. It was hard to believe that Tyler had just vanished, but he wasn't anywhere in the apartment, and if he'd gone somewhere he probably would have taken the van, so. Tyler was wherever he went when he went away.
It was probably weird, Brendon thought as he pulled into the airport's parking lot. Weird to blink in and out of existing like that. Was it like Terminator, he wondered. Did Tyler show up naked? How did he see without Brendon's glasses? Brendon shook his head and took his keys out of the ignition, headed to the terminal.
--
"Seriously, are you going to get on-key at any point tonight?" Ryan snapped. Brendon bit the inside of his cheek hard, closing his eyes and trying to keep himself from lashing out. Ryan had ignored him so far all night. And then the first statement directed at Brendon was criticism, of course.
"From the top, then," Jon said, clapping his hands. He was slightly off-beat but Ryan didn't say anything.
"You're a little slow, Jon," Brendon said, still leaning his head against the piano. His skin felt too tight, like it was holding in too much. Maybe it was. Maybe it was holding Tyler back.
"Oh my God, if you guys don't stop nitpicking I'm going to kill you both, I swear," Spencer called out. "Now come the fuck on, Erik and Bart are going to be here at three o'clock tomorrow. If we're this sloppy with them, they're gonna laugh in our faces. So. Let's get through this one song just one time and then let's go home, get some sleep, and kick some ass in the morning."
"Karma Police, take one trillion," Brendon shouted before sitting up straight and touching middle C.
--
Brendon couldn't force himself to go home after practice, so he just headed north on the freeway, pulling over into the desert about an hour past the Strip. He reclined his seat, letting his head fall back and his eyes slip shut, focusing on Tyler, every difference between him and Brendon, half-expecting to see Tyler sitting in the passenger seat when he opened his eyes. He wasn't. Brendon scrunched his eyes closed again and took a deep breath.
"Tyler," he said clearly. "Tyler, I want you here."
Nothing.
Knowing about Tyler probably wouldn't change much. If Brendon couldn't control when he showed up and disappeared, then it was really Tyler's problem. So far, Tyler had managed to keep his existence concealed, anyway, and that hopefully wouldn't change. It wasn't like he had anything to gain from revealing himself to -- well, to anyone, really.
It was unnerving to know that at any given time, he could have a double running around with a separate agenda, out of his control, but what exactly was he supposed to do? Set evil twin traps on the bus?
Tyler had said that he wanted to be the one living Brendon's life, but that probably wasn't possible if he couldn't stop himself from disappearing every time he went to sleep. Which was apparently the case. Unless he knew something Brendon didn't, and fuck, this was making Brendon's head hurt. Brendon wished fervently that he had someone he could just talk to about this with, but, seriously, who?
It was going to be okay, Brendon decided. He'd just. Deal with Tyler whenever he showed up. If he ever did again.
--
The lights and were on when Brendon got into his apartment. He froze at the entrance, holding his keys loosely in his hand. The door had been locked, no sign of forced entry or anything like that. He shuffled inside slowly, closing the door behind him. When he glanced towards his bedroom, he saw Tyler leaning against the doorframe.
"You're an asshole," Tyler said angrily.
"What," Brendon said. "What? I just woke up and you were gone."
"And now I'm back," Tyler sniped. "Did you ever think that maybe I hate this, just disappearing when I don't even know what's going to happen when I come back? So we need to talk. I haven't changed my mind about wanting -- wanting more, you know."
"I don't really think that's going to work out if you just disappear whenever you fall asleep," Brendon pointed out, doing his best to not think about how he'd tried to make Tyler appear in the desert.
"Look, it's your subconscious, okay? That's why I'm here at all. So if you want me to play the shows on this tour for you, then I'll probably just reappear every morning or whatever. We can switch places or something," Tyler said, crossing his arms tightly.
"I don't want you to," Brendon said. He sat down on the couch, fiddling with his keyring. "I mean. I kind of like my life now, okay? I worked hard for it."
"Well, so did I," Tyler said.
Brendon sighed, frustrated. "And what about Ryan?"
"What about him?" Tyler was practically glaring, chin lifted defiantly.
"Have you thought about talking to him about what you did? That it wasn't me the whole time?" Brendon clarified, crossing his arms, left over right, just to be different from Tyler. The posture was awkward, but, stubbornly, Brendon didn't adjust.
"I don't really think that's a good idea," Tyler said finally. "What are you gonna say? 'Sorry we had a really fucking weird couple of months there, Ryan, there happened to be two of me. No, really, I swear I didn't know about the other one.' That's totally believable."
"I think he kind of has a right to know," Brendon snapped.
"What, to up the chances that he'll take you back?" Tyler taunted. "You think if you just tell him I'm the bad guy it'll fix everything? Not likely."
"I can't deal with this right now," Brendon said, shaking his head. "It's late. I'm tired. I have practice in the morning."
"I'll go," Tyler said right away.
"What?"
Tyler walked to the couch, sat next to Brendon. "I mean, I can go to practice for you. I haven't been around all that long this time, and I -- I don't think I'm gonna be able to sleep anyway, so I might as well do something, right? We can talk when I get back. It's one practice, and it's not like I haven't practiced with the band before, you know?"
"I guess," Brendon said slowly. Tyler was looking at him with wide eyes, his expression a mix between hopeful and determined. Brendon was familiar with that one, too. The one thing Brendon was waiting for was to see Tyler look as exhausted as Brendon felt. It didn't seem like it was worth fighting, the idea of Tyler taking his place for just one day. It's happened a million times, Brendon told himself. It hasn't gone wrong yet, he thought, and the idea of a day to himself to just hibernate was dizzyingly tempting.
"And I mean, I know everything that happened while I was gone, so," Tyler waved his hand.
"What if you do, you know, fall asleep?" Brendon asked, biting his lip.
"Practice is at eleven, right? So I'll have to leave by ten-thirty? Set your alarm for ten. Then you can just go back to sleep or whatever after you make sure I leave," Tyler said.
The silence that followed was heavy. "I'm pretty tired, so I'm just gonna go crash," Brendon said finally, standing.
"Sweet dreams," Tyler called out. Brendon shut the bedroom door. He leaned back against it, taking a moment to catch his breath before stripping down to his underwear and crawling into bed. It took him a long time to fall asleep, and the whole time he was uncomfortably aware of Tyler, awake in the other room, counting down the hours until he went and took Brendon's place.
I wonder if they can tell that it's not really me, Brendon wondered as he drifted off. I wonder if I'd be able to tell.
--
Brendon's alarm clock went off at 9:18 because it was a piece of shit that clearly hated him. He tried resetting it and getting back into bed, but it went off thirteen minutes later, which he decided to take as a sign that he just wasn't meant to sleep.
The TV was off when Brendon headed into the living room, and the apartment was quiet. "Tyler?" he called out. No answer. "Tyler, you here?" Brendon paced around the apartment for a few minutes before giving up and going to check the coffee table. His Sidekick and keys were right where he'd left them.
"Guess I'm going to practice today after all," Brendon said to himself.
--
Brendon couldn't think of what to do but head to the practice space early. At least they'd left all their instruments set up there, if nothing else he could screw around with drums and piano and maybe have a go with the cello they brought in for Bart.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of place, on the drive to the practice space. Tyler had been so sure he'd be awake in the morning, but Brendon couldn't really be upset that he'd vanished, because it was just more ammunition for the argument that Tyler couldn't take primary control of their -- of Brendon's life.
I'm literally gearing up to argue with myself, Brendon thought, shaking his head.
When Brendon got inside the practice room, Ryan was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a banjo in his hands and Tyler next to him, correcting the positioning of his fingers. Ryan and Tyler looked up in unison at the sound of the door opening and Brendon had exactly half a second to think, Oh, shit.
--
"Brendon fainted the first time he saw me," Tyler offered.
"I did not," Brendon said.
"Yeah, you did," Tyler said. Ryan didn't say anything.
"Um, so," Brendon tried. "This is his fault."
"I left a note," Tyler said indignantly. "Right on the microwave. We can go back to the apartment if you don't believe me. What kind of dumbass doesn't even check the kitchen?"
"Next time I have an evil twin I'll know what to do, thanks," Brendon said, rolling his eyes.
"The note says 'Ross called, something about a banjo, see you tonight, he's picking me up,'" Tyler continued.
"Oh, whatever, I thought you were -- " Brendon flapped his hands vaguely. "Somewhere. Else. Gone. And anyway, why didn't you take my Sidekick? Or my wallet?"
"I'm not used to having them with me," Tyler said.
"How long?" Ryan asked, voice quiet. He was looking at his hands, fingers laced together loosely over his legs, still crossed. Tyler glanced over at Brendon, as if he were asking for permission. Brendon shrugged and nodded at the same time.
"Since the first time Pete came out here," Tyler said. Ryan's head shot up, and he fastened his gaze on Tyler.
"So more than a year," he said evenly.
"I'm sorry," Brendon burst in, twisting his shirt in his hands.
"Then that's why -- I can't fucking believe you," Ryan said. He didn't shout. Didn't raise his voice at all.
"I'm sorry, too," Tyler said, and he looked it. His face was all twisted up, and Brendon wanted to pull him aside and tell him how to do it right, how to make a sad face the right way, because he didn't look like Brendon knew he looked when he was upset like that. The features were right, but the way he moved them was all wrong. Brendon wasn't sure if it was something he could ever get used to.
"How did I not know?" Ryan asked. He went back to staring at his hands. Brendon wished he'd yell or something.
"I didn't know, either," Brendon said.
Ryan snorted. "Yeah, I believe that. I can't even -- I don't know who you are."
"I don't know who I am, either," Tyler said in a small voice.
"Sucks to be you," Ryan said, getting to his feet. He pulled his Sidekick down and checked the screen. "It's almost ten-thirty. One of you needs to leave before Jon and Spencer get here. I don't really care which one."
"You said I could do practice today," Tyler said to Brendon quickly. Ryan shot him a scathing glare.
"So, what, you're taking turns playing Brendon? I bet that's a fun game for you," he said sharply.
"It's not a game," Brendon said. He scrambled to his feet. "Look, it's -- we're trying to figure it out, okay? I don't know what to do, Ryan."
"Whatever," Ryan said, eyes narrowing.
"I mean it," Brendon said. "I didn't ask for this, all right? I never even knew he existed until the day before yesterday. And I don't know how to deal with it, or with him, or you, or -- or anything."
"How am I supposed to believe that?" Ryan asked coldly.
"I don't know," Brendon shouted.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," Tyler said from the floor.
"Well, it did," Ryan said. He just looked tired at this point. Brendon could sympathize. He wanted to curl up and sleep for the rest of the day, and realized with a start that he could.
"I'm gonna go, then," Brendon said. "I guess -- I'll see you when we leave for Maryland."
"Fine," Ryan said. He sat back down and picked up the banjo again. Tyler looked up at Brendon helplessly. Brendon tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged. He didn't look back when he let himself out, cautious, glancing around the door frame to see if Jon or Spencer were on their way in. The parking lot was empty, thankfully, and he didn't pass anyone he knew on the street on the drive back to his apartment.
--
Somewhere around seven, there was a knock at the door.
Brendon had tried sleeping the whole day, but had only managed to drift off for maybe a half hour at a time. He never really sank into that same deep sleep he'd grown accustomed to over the past year, probably because he wasn't the same tired he'd been over the past year. It wasn't the kind of pervasive, gritty-eyed tired that supporting an evil twin or whatever apparently got you, just the regular bone-deep tiredness of dealing with a life that had spun wildly out of control. Which was just fucking irritating. Brendon appreciated not feeling as tired, but he still felt exhausted, only now he couldn't sleep on top of it all.
Brendon wasn't sure he should really be answering the door, with Tyler out and about pretending to be him, but he got up and looked through the peephole anyway. It was Ryan. Brendon stumbled back from the door. Ryan knocked again, harder this time. Brendon was stunned into action, his hand coming up to open the door before he even thought about it.
Ryan and Brendon just stared at each other until Ryan sighed impatiently and pushed past him into the apartment.
Brendon cleared his throat. "Aren't you supposed to be at practice?"
"We're taking a break for dinner," Ryan said. "I didn't tell anyone I was coming here instead."
"Not even -- "
"No, I didn't tell...him. The other Brendon," Ryan said.
"His name is Tyler," Brendon said automatically. Ryan stared at him for a moment, and then comprehension dawned.
"Cute," he said.
"He picked it," Brendon said, feeling himself flushing a little. He leaned against the wall, looking anywhere but at Ryan.
"You really didn't know what I was talking about," Ryan said abruptly.
"Huh?"
"In England. When we had that fight. After we fucked," Ryan clarified.
"No, I didn't," Brendon said. "I swear, I didn't know. I didn't know anything."
"Well, that makes some kind of sense," Ryan said. "You really have been like two different people."
"And you didn't guess anything?" Brendon asked.
"Yes," Ryan said flatly. "I guessed that you had an evil twin running around fucking me and ditching Brent in drugstores. That was the very first thing I thought."
"Well, when you say it like that," Brendon muttered.
"Whatever you end up doing," Ryan said carefully.
"I don't know yet," Brendon said.
"Let me finish. Whatever you end up doing, I want to know. We're supposed to be in this together." Ryan smiled crookedly at Brendon.
"Yeah," Brendon said. He stepped forward, slowly, and put his arms around Ryan, and Ryan let him. Ryan hugged him back, even; a little hesitant, but still a response.
"I want to know everything that happened," Ryan said quietly, tucking his chin over Brendon's shoulder.
"I don't know everything yet," Brendon said. He closed his eyes, let himself hold Ryan more tightly.
"After practice is over," Ryan said, pulling back. "I have to drop him off anyway."
"See you then," Brendon said, crossing his arms self-consciously.
"Okay," Ryan said, heading to the door. He paused and looked back at Brendon over his shoulder. "You really didn't know?"
"Cross my heart," Brendon said, holding his hands out in surrender.
--
"So Brendon's brain created you to make his life easier?" Ryan asked slowly. He was sprawled on the couch, staring at the ceiling, leaving Tyler and Brendon flopped on the floor.
"I guess, yeah," Tyler said, glancing at Brendon. It was the way he clenched his jaw, Brendon decided; that was what made his face look slightly off. Brendon didn't walk around with his mouth hanging open, exactly, but Tyler had a tendency to hold his jaw tightly shut, and it subtly shifted all of his features. All of Brendon's features. He definitely wasn't ever going to get used to the inexact mirror of Tyler's presence.
"I think you've made a lot more problems than you've solved," Ryan said.
"We got everything we wanted," Tyler said, sounding defensive.
"Yeah, about that," Ryan said. "Which one of you slept with Pete?"
Tyler coughed.
"That's what I thought," Ryan said. "How many times?"
"Not, like, a lot," Tyler hedged.
"I feel like I should want to know, but I just really don't want to," Brendon said.
"Pussy," Tyler said.
"Oh, fuck off," Brendon said, shoving him. Tyler fell over onto his side with a squawk.
"We'll have to tell Spencer, at least," Ryan said thoughtfully.
"Why?" Brendon asked.
"There's another you," Ryan pointed out. "And we can't predict when he's going to show up. Spencer finding out is an inevitability. Lying to him about you is just stalling, and it's a jackass thing to do."
"If Spencer asked me if I had an evil twin I wouldn't lie," Brendon said.
Ryan threw a cushion at his head. "Lies of omission count."
"You're handling this too well," Brendon griped. "Seriously, you're not wondering how he's real?"
Ryan shrugged. "What am I supposed to do? Freak out and lose my shit? I don't think there actually is an explanation for how your brain managed to produce a whole extra person, so there's no point in trying to figure it out. Tyler exists. I don't think there's anything we can do to change that. So let's figure this the fuck out."
"I can't control or predict when he's going to show up," Brendon said. "Why are we acting like this is a custody battle? For my life?"
"He's a person," Ryan said seriously.
"Yeah, I'm a person," Tyler piped up, in agreement.
"He's not around all the time," Ryan said. "So when he is, it makes sense that he'd get first dibs, or something. Carpe diem, and all that."
"I still don't know what I'm supposed to do when he magically appears," Brendon said.
"You could hide on the bus?" Tyler offered.
"I can't hide on the bus," Brendon said. "I think you're not remembering what buses are actually like. And what do I do while you're off being me, anyway?"
"We could rent a car," Ryan tried.
"And nobody's going to notice me driving away and just, like, leaving the car when I show up again to play the show or whatever? Who's going to drive it when he's not here?" Brendon pointed out.
"You could get Zack or a tech to take you to a motel or something," Tyler said.
"Same problem," Brendon said. "Why am I going to a hotel right before a show? That's just gonna make everyone think I'm into weird hookers. Not the publicity we're really looking for. Also, it still doesn't explain why I reappear at the venue."
"Walk to the hotel, then," Ryan said. "Or a café. Or whatever. Does it matter?"
"And, what, just hope nobody sees me sneak away? That's kind of risky," Brendon said.
"I give up," Tyler said tiredly. "It's, like three in the morning, man. Let's get some fucking sleep."
"Fine," Ryan said. "Can we at least agree to tell Spencer? After the thing in Maryland? We're leaving in like twelve hours for that."
"Yeah, I remember," Brendon groaned, rubbing at his face. "Fine, yeah, we can tell Spencer when we get back. The next time Tyler shows up, I guess."
"Awesome. I'm crashing here," Ryan said.
"You can have the couch," Brendon said.
"Do you still have the futon?" Ryan asked.
"No, but the couch will fold out," Brendon said.
"I meant for Tyler," Ryan said, looking at Brendon out of the corner of his eye, brow furrowed slightly.
"Oh," Brendon said. "Ah. Tyler's sleeping with me. In my bed, I mean. We're sharing."
"Huh," Ryan said. Brendon stood up awkwardly, straightening before holding his hand out for Tyler to hold as he pulled himself to his feet.
"I'm hungry," Tyler said. "Did you get food?"
"There's leftover Chinese in the fridge," Brendon said.
"Sweet," Tyler said happily, heading for the kitchen. Ryan was still giving Brendon that weird sidelong glance.
"What?" Brendon said.
"You're sleeping with him," Ryan said, tone flat and face unreadable.
"I don't like sleeping alone," Brendon said defensively.
"I know you don't," Ryan said.
"So?"
"So, nothing, then," Ryan said. He stood up and stretched slowly, his shirt riding up. Brendon forced himself to look away. "I'm gonna go steal your toothbrush, okay?"
"Sure," Brendon said, even though Ryan was already walking away. Tyler came up beside him, still shoveling chow mein into his mouth.
"You used up all the soy sauce packets," Tyler accused him through a mouthful of noodles. He swallowed noisily. "What was that about?"
"Dunno," Brendon said.
--
"Okay, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, seriously," Brendon said. He was stuffing the last of his clothes into his bag, pausing to address Tyler.
"I'm not a moron," Tyler said. "And I'm not even going to be around that long. I vanish when I pass out, remember. Man cannot live by Mountain Dew alone."
"Whatever. When I get back we have a solid five days of practice, and then we leave for Arizona to start the headliner," Brendon said.
"You'd better not hog all that time to yourself," Tyler warned.
"Dude, I need the practice, too, we're gonna be fucked if we're each only half ready," Brendon said, hefting his duffle over his shoulder and walking towards the bedroom door. He wasn't sure why he'd shut it the night before. Ryan sleeping in the other room wasn't a big deal. If Ryan walked in on them or something, that wouldn't have been a big deal, either. It wasn't like they were doing anything embarrassing or whatever. Still.
"Does that mean I get to do fun stuff?" Tyler asked hopefully.
"Ryan seems to think so," Brendon muttered. He leaned against the door frame and shouted across the apartment, in the general direction of the bathroom closest to the kitchen. "Ross, are you packed yet? We're getting picked up in, like, five hours. Does Zack know you're here?"
"My bag's in my car," Ryan yelled through the bathroom door. "Text Zack for me, all right?"
"I got it," Tyler said, reaching for Brendon's Sidekick. Brendon dropped his bag on the floor and flopped back on the bed, butting his head up against Tyler's hip, looking for attention. Tyler set the Sidekick aside and reached down to ruffle Brendon's hair affectionately. Brendon closed his eyes and hummed in appreciation. "C'mere," Tyler said, nudging him. Brendon wriggled up, tucking his nose into the crook of Tyler's shoulder, holding on tightly, trying to ignore Ryan in the other room. Tyler squirmed pointedly, so Brendon draped a leg over Tyler's hips, getting closer.
"Hey," Brendon heard Ryan say from the doorway to the bedroom. He suppressed the urge to jump away from Tyler. They weren't doing anything.
"Hi," Tyler said, arm tightening around Brendon's waist.
"You just gonna hang here, then?" Brendon asked.
"My dad's home again," Ryan said. "So, if it's okay."
"Yeah, sure," Brendon said. He closed his eyes again, trying to slow his heartbeat. Tyler's pulse was pounding against his cheek, steady and too fast. It was good to know he wasn't alone, at least.
"I can leave, if you want," Ryan said softly, hovering at the doorway.
"There's room," Tyler said, shifting away from Brendon, making a space between them. Ryan hesitated another moment before shuffling out of his shoes and crawling awkwardly onto the bed. He lay down between them, not closer to either, as though he wasn't sure who he was allowed to touch. A heartbeat after Brendon thought to reach over and wrap his arm around Ryan, Tyler did the same thing, knuckles brushing Brendon's hip. Ryan was lying on his back, shifting back and forth, staring straight ahead.
"Hey," Brendon said, "hey, it's just me, you know? Just. More of me, I guess."
"What the world really needed, more Brendon Urie," Ryan said, but his voice wasn't as sure as Brendon was used to. Ryan turned over onto his side, facing Brendon. Tyler curled up closer behind him, nudging him closer to Brendon in the process. Brendon's breath caught in his throat. It was the closest he'd been to Ryan since the fight back in England. Tyler dipped his head down and pressed a soft kiss to the curve of Ryan's neck. Ryan shivered and glanced at Brendon, uncertain. Brendon licked his lips hesitantly. Ryan mirrored him, unconsciously.
"We never talked about who was who," Brendon said. Ryan blinked at him. "You know. When -- before. I thought you'd want to know when I was me and when I, um, wasn't. When Tyler was me, I guess."
"I don't think it's that important," Ryan said. "Just. Don't do it again."
"We won't," Brendon said, holding Ryan's gaze. "Right, Tyler?"
"Uh-huh," Tyler said. Brendon reached over, snaking his hand between Ryan's body and Tyler's, pinching Tyler's nipple hard. "Ow. I -- come on, I'm not actually an evil twin, Jesus."
Brendon closed his eyes in the lull that followed, anything to keep from having to look at Ryan, to be so close and so unsure of where they stood. He listened to Ryan's breathing, and Tyler's. They weren't evening out. What comes next? Brendon wondered. He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself.
"Ryan," he said softly. "Does this -- the whole thing with Tyler, does it mean you don't want to forget about the you and me thing anymore?" Ryan took in a sudden sharp breath.
"It changes things," Ryan allowed. "But it's kind of. It's not just you."
"I know," Brendon said.
"I can go," Tyler offered quietly.
"Stay," Ryan said. Brendon frowned, confused. "Do you want him to leave?"
"No," Brendon said after a moment of consideration. "Do you?"
"No, I don't," Ryan said with a small smile. "It's just. There's two of you now. I guess there always were, but it's different now that I know. Now that you know, too."
"You don't have to pick a favourite," Tyler mumbled.
"I don't think I could," Ryan said. "But I don't -- I don't want to leave anyone out, either."
Brendon's mouth went dry. "You mean. Us? Three? Like, together?"
"If you wanted," Ryan said, turning to look at him. He kept licking his lip, nervously, Brendon was sure he didn't even know he was doing it.
"Really?" Tyler asked quietly.
Ryan rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling again, voice distant. "I just. I can't just separate it all out. Even if we went through the last year hour by hour. I couldn't. I don't want to."
"Okay," Tyler said softly. "Let's try it."
"Me and Tyler," Brendon tried. He swallowed hard. "We already, um."
"Oh," Ryan said. "Oh. Oh, wow, really?"
"Is that what you meant?" Tyler asked, sounding unsure.
"Yeah, I just. I didn't think that you'd want to, I thought you'd think it was weird, with each other," Ryan said, glancing at Brendon. His eyes were bright, cheeks flushed.
"It was, a little," Brendon admitted. "But good. It was good, with us."
"It was," Tyler echoed.
"I want to see," Ryan said. "I want to see you kiss him."
"Yeah, all right," Brendon whispered. He sat up, trying to ignore how nervous he was, on edge and barely aware of what was happening, what they were in the middle of. Tyler sat up on the other side of Ryan, grinning at Brendon before reaching out to cup his cheeks and draw their mouths together.
He kissed more carefully this time, like it was a show for Ryan. It kind of was, Brendon thought, a second chance he didn't think he'd had a shot at. Tyler opened his mouth slowly, licking his way into Brendon's. Brendon dropped his hand to the bed, curling his fingers around Ryan's knee while he kissed Tyler, losing himself in the slow slide of their lips together.
When Brendon pulled back, he looked down at Ryan, just to see his reaction. Ryan was watching them intently, eyes wide and wanting, and that was all Brendon needed to see, really. He pulled away from Tyler and held himself over Ryan, giving Ryan a chance to push him away before he closed the last few inches' distance between their mouths.
Ryan kissed back, fisting his hands in the loose fabric of Brendon's t-shirt. Brendon felt Tyler rubbing down his spine, soothing or maybe just reminding, and he broke the kiss to give Tyler an opening. He took it, and then it was Brendon's turn to stroke Tyler's back, to just watch the two of them together.
It should be weird, Brendon thought, then, I don't want it to be and I'm glad that it's not.
--
Eventually, Ryan fell asleep between them.
"What about when I'm gone?" Tyler asked, keeping his voice low and his gaze fixed on Ryan.
"If you want, I won't do anything with him. Without you, I mean," Brendon offered, trying to sound reassuring. "It's okay, I mean, I get it. We can save that stuff for the three of us." Pairing the uncertainty of Tyler's existence with Ryan wasn't something he was looking forward to, but it was easy to see Tyler's position. Brendon understood wanting to not be left out.
"No, I don't want you to do that for me," Tyler said, frowning. "I just mean. What if I don't come back?"
"You mean, like, next time?" Brendon asked.
"Any time," Tyler said.
"Do you think that's going to happen?" Brendon asked.
"I don't know," Tyler murmured, glancing at him. "It could."
"I think it's going to be okay," Brendon whispered. Tyler took a deep breath and held his hand out. Brendon laced their fingers together and squeezed.
--
The timer on Ryan's Sidekick went off and woke them up shortly before Zack was set to pick them up. Tyler was gone. Brendon didn't move, staying still for Ryan as he turned to face Brendon.
"I could almost believe I dreamed it," Ryan said softly. Brendon hummed in response. "It's so weird that he's just -- gone."
"He'll be back," Brendon said confidently.
"Spencer's gonna lose his shit," Ryan said with a slow smirk.
"C'mon, Ross," Brendon said, sitting up and grinning, feeling stupidly, wholly alive. "The world awaits us."
--
Notes - Part One - Part Two - Part Three
--
"Do you see our problem?" the other Brendon asked pleasantly.
"Umm," Brendon said. "Well. I don't -- how are you real, again?"
"You wanted me to be," the other Brendon said. He was holding his face weirdly, and it was distracting to Brendon -- the quirk of his eyebrows was all wrong, and so was the set of his jaw. "Come on. Did you actually think you got everything done by yourself? With no help? Working full-time, rehearsing until your hands went numb and you lost your voice, carrying a full courseload? And you did that all on your own? Right. You needed help. That's where I came in."
"You," Brendon tried. He cleared his throat.
It was probably a good thing that Brendon couldn't seem to make himself speak, because he wanted to ask the person sitting in front of him if this person was really an exact duplicate of Brendon and if he'd been doing crazy things like running Brendon's life for him. That is not a question that should ever be asked, because that was a question that didn't make any kind of sense, Brendon thought.
"Need some water?" the other Brendon asked. Brendon nodded. His doppelganger came back with a glass of water from the kitchen. "Here."
"Thanks," Brendon rasped.
"No problem."
Brendon rubbed at his temples, muttering, "This is -- this is insane. I don't even -- fucking Fight Club bullshit."
"Yes!" the other Brendon said, sounding delighted. "Yes, it's just like Fight Club. Mostly. Well. You're not imagining me as a separate person, I actually am separate, just. Not all the time, like, only when you need me, I guess. But I did come from you. So, I guess it's only kind of -- I mean, I'm, you made me. It's not like I'm not real, at least most of the time. I guess it's not really all that much like Fight Club. I don't -- I don't know how it works, really, or why. You could call me Tyler anyway, though," he added hopefully.
"Okay, uh, sure," Brendon said. "But -- how are you even. You're actually real?" Brendon reached out to poke the other -- Tyler. He felt real enough.
"I already told you I am, just not always," Tyler said impatiently.
"It's a lot to take in," Brendon snapped. He glanced at Tyler warily. "So, you, like. Started existing to do my homework for me?"
"Among other things," the other Brendon said. "For example, Ryan wasn't sleeping with Pete on the Nintendo Fusion tour. He never was. You were, though."
"Wait, what?" Brendon dropped the glass and it shattered, sending glass shards and water spilling everywhere.
The other Brendon shrugged, eyeing the mess. "Okay, not you-you. I was. But Pete thought I was you, so. And not really so much on the Fusion tour, mostly before, like in LA and out here when Pete came to listen for the first time."
That's why we got signed, Brendon thought numbly. Everyone who ever said anything about us being his pet band was right. He took a deep breath. "Why did Pete never -- I mean, how did I not know?"
"Oh, come on, it's Pete. He lives for doomed love affairs. I just had to say some angsty stuff about being scared of the gay stigma and he totally played along. I mean, I also may have implied that there was a video of him fucking me that would be leaked if he did something to piss me off," the other Brendon said.
"Yeah, but you didn't really film -- oh my God," Brendon groaned, burying his head in his hands.
"It's really hot, actually. I mean, it's sketchy as hell, 'cause Pete didn't know I was filming, but it's a pretty flattering clip," Tyler said.
"I can't fucking believe you," Brendon said, shaking his head hard, trying to make sense of everything.
"Well, you made me," Tyler said, reaching over to pet him mock-gently.
"No! I didn't!" Brendon shouted, shoving him away.
"I'm not just fucking with you here," Tyler said with a scowl. "I've been running around for more than a year now taking care of everything that you couldn't deal with. You should be thanking me."
Brendon scrubbed at his face, closing his eyes tightly. "I can't fucking deal with this."
"You've been saying that for way too long now. Grow the fuck up already," Tyler said.
"Go away," Brendon said, refusing to take his hands away from his face.
"No," Tyler snarled. He grabbed Brendon's wrists and yanked hard, pulling him off-balance until they were close and Brendon had to open his eyes or completely fall over. "You may not want to hear this, but you know what? I don't fucking care. Things don't just magically happen. I had to work hard to set certain events in motion, and I think it's time you got a handle on that. So shut the fuck up and listen already."
Brendon tried squirming away, but Tyler held onto him tightly, grinding the bones of his wrists. "Let me go."
"You were scared that you wouldn't get signed, and you couldn't take that extra step to do something, so I had to, and maybe it was the wrong step but all's well that ends well, right? And then you decided to move out instead of just keeping your head down, so I had to clean up that mess. I even stayed back here and kept working at the Goddamn Tropical Smoothie Café once you went to Maryland. You stuck your head in the sand when Ryan's dad got checked back into the hospital, so I had to fuck him to get him to stop moping so Goddamn much -- "
"What?" Brendon said, going still.
"Shut up and let me finish," Tyler snarled, shaking him. "The Q&A session can come later. So I had to fix Ryan -- which you went ahead and fucked up, thanks a lot -- and then there were the tours with Academy, waking up with your hangovers, and then, finally, we come to Brent."
"Brent?"
"Seriously, that didn't occur to you yet? I got him off the bus and then you guys just fell apart. All I had to do was make him miss one show, and then you, Ryan, and Spencer managed the rest," Tyler said, letting go of Brendon. Brendon sank down to the sofa, shell-shocked. At some point his brain was going to stop repeating its endless loop of whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck, but until then he couldn't really get himself to think through the haze of disbelief.
"I don't get it," he said finally. "Why did you do that to Brent?"
"You're the one who was wishing he was someone else," Tyler said.
"I didn't want Brent gone," Brendon said numbly.
"Well, it all worked out, didn't it? And that's what you wanted, right? You just wanted everything to work out. I just gave you what you wanted. That's all I've done, actually, every step of the way, I've just done what you wanted, okay?" Tyler said.
"I don't want you," Brendon shouted, standing up and stomping away from Tyler. "I don't -- this is fucking crazy, and I don't want you and I never wanted you."
"Give it to me once more with feeling, okay?" Tyler said, sounding unimpressed. "Are you done freaking out? We have things to talk about."
"Like what?"
"What we're going to do about this thing with Ryan. You know, you really should have taken his hints and just gone with the flow. You both would have been much happier. Me too," Tyler told him, going to the broom closet for a dustpan.
"Shut the fuck up about Ryan," Brendon said, head spinning.
"Fine, have it your way," Tyler said, scooping up the glass into the pan. "I thought you wanted to hear about how he isn't crazy and from his side of things, you really have been pulling some Jekyll and Hyde crap with him, you know? But I guess you figured that, at least."
"What do you even want?" Brendon asked dully. Tyler sat down in the chair next to the sofa, reaching out and touching his knee. Brendon let him, because he felt too tired and worn too thin to do anything else.
Tyler took a deep breath. "Look. I've been running around for over a year now doing your dirty work, and I'm frankly bored with it. So. New plan. Instead of you having all the fun and me doing all the work -- "
"Fucking Ryan was my dirty work, then," Brendon said bitterly.
"If you really want to know, yes," Tyler said. "He figured out I was sleeping with Pete. So, you know, he was jealous and felt inferior and blah blah blah, it was all pretty pitiful. He wasn't going to be happy alone, and he wasn't going to make the first move after he found out I slept with Pete, and if Ryan didn't have at least one of us distracting him, he probably would've been completely unable to handle everything that's happened with his father since the accident and he would've fucked the whole band over royally. So I fucked him, and you played the part of the sweetheart boyfriend. Problem solved."
"That simple, then, huh?" Brendon said angrily.
"Yep," Tyler said, jaw set just a little too tense to be convincingly confident.
Brendon let out a groan of frustration, mumbling to himself. "God, I don't even know what I'm supposed to do."
"We need to get back to that important conversation we were having. The one where you get to start doing the errands and I get to start being the rock star. I helped you out a little, in the beginning, but it's really hard to get you to not force your way onto whatever stage we're facing. But I want to do the band thing. I've done the casting couch and the manipulation, now I want to do the fun part. Don't you think that's fair?" Tyler looked at him expectantly.
"Well, no, because it's my life, not yours," Brendon said.
"It was your life, and now it's our life. I didn't ask to be here. You made me. Now share, asshole," Tyler said.
"I don't have to share something that you don't have any right to," Brendon snapped. "I don't even know why you're here right now if you supposedly only show up when I need you."
"You needed me to tell you all this, because you weren't going to let yourself think about it," Tyler said patiently.
"You shouldn't even be here, ever, much less now," Brendon said.
"But here I am anyway," Tyler said. He sat back, considered Brendon. "I didn't get a manual, you know. I had to figure these things out without you. It was -- it was pretty scary the first time I showed up. It was after the audition with Pete. I showed up outside his hotel that night, and I didn't know who I was or what was happening. Pete happened to be headed outside to get his iPod from the rental car and he saw me and said, 'hey, Brendon!' If he hadn't used your name I don't know if I could've figured anything out at all. But when he said your name I kind of automatically reacted to it. Like when a computer fills in a password for you because you told it to save the password, that was what it was like. And I figured out that if I kept my mind open and didn't try to think too hard or rationalize it, then I could just know things. Whatever you knew."
"Is that working right now?" Brendon asked tentatively.
"No," Tyler said. He scrunched his face up. "I don't know why, actually. Maybe it's that I never really, you know, had to look you in the face. Maybe -- maybe when we're together, we can't, like, mind-meld or whatever."
Brendon furrowed his brow. "Does that work both ways? Like, you get my memories, how come I don't have yours?"
"You might be able to, I don't know," Tyler said, sounding interested.
Brendon closed his eyes, letting himself think of Ryan; the night in England on their first tour when he could barely stand, he was so tired, and Ryan took him back to the van like he knew exactly what to do. Because he did. That was Brendon's first kiss with Ryan, but it wasn't Ryan's first kiss with Brendon. The memory ached a little, with the perspective of hindsight.
Ryan's first kiss with Brendon was when he was just getting out of the shower, the same day that Brendon had to pick Ryan up at the hospital. Brendon had had to leave, go help his parents in an attempt to mend bridges. Tyler went into the bathroom when Ryan was staring at his reflection with just a towel around his waist, only a small patch of unfogged mirror for him to look at. Tyler touched Ryan's arm and then folded him into a hug. Ryan fought at first. He didn't want comfort, he wanted to wallow. His misery was practically another limb.
Tyler didn't let Ryan fight away, he just held him, determined to make Ryan better however possible. Tyler didn't know what to do. Tyler closed his eyes and breathed Ryan in, bringing a protective arm up around his shoulders, cradling his head to Tyler's shoulder, trying to decide what to do. Needing an answer, having no one to ask. Ryan tugged away for some toilet paper to wipe his face, and it was clear he'd been embarrassed about crying.
When Ryan pulled away, the way the light caught Ryan's tearstained face hit Tyler right in his gut and he grabbed onto Ryan, pulling him in and kissing him hard. Ryan went still, uncertain, and then Tyler's hands slid down Ryan's arms to his wrists, and he pressed firmly against Ryan's pulse. "Hey, I'm here," he'd said softly, and Ryan smiled, and believed him.
It wasn't dirty work. It wasn't Tyler manipulating Ryan so the band would stay together. It was Tyler kissing Ryan because he wanted him, and Ryan kissing back because he wanted to. Brendon could feel it, the intensity of Ryan's response, all the way through Tyler's memories. He touched his mouth, feeling light-headed.
"Looks like you got something from me, anyway. Feels weird, huh? What'd you get?" Tyler was saying. Brendon had to blink hard to make sense of the words.
"First time you kissed Ryan," Brendon said finally.
"Oh," Tyler said, suddenly quiet. Brendon looked up at him and saw for the first time something that he could recognize as himself, instead of someone wearing his skin all wrong. Tyler looked...vulnerable. Brendon was maybe a little too familiar with that feeling.
"I thought it'd be different, you and him," Brendon said.
"You'd think it would be," Tyler agreed.
"I think I should go lie down now," Brendon said.
"I'll lie down with you, if you want," Tyler said. Brendon glanced at him. It was so strange to see himself, sitting there looking uncertain and clearly trying so hard to be brave.
"Yeah, okay," Brendon said after a moment of hesitation. There wasn't really another answer to give.
--
"Do you feel real?" Brendon whispered. He was curled on his side, facing Tyler. Tyler's posture was an unconscious mirror of his own, one hand tucked under his cheek. They weren't touching, weren't even close to it, but Brendon could feel the warmth from his body. They were lying on top of the sheets, sweating in the searing Vegas heat. Neither of them had stripped at all, they'd just fallen asleep in their jeans and t-shirts. Normally, Brendon slept naked, but he had found himself unexpectedly shy in front of Tyler.
"Kind of," Tyler whispered back. "Does 'I think, therefore I am?' still work if so many of my thoughts are yours?"
"I don't know," Brendon said honestly.
Tyler reached out tentatively, putting his hand on top of Brendon's. Brendon let him, closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep at last.
--
"You're still here," Brendon said when he woke up. It was still dark. He'd rolled over in his sleep, Tyler spooned up against him. Tyler was awake.
"Yeah," Tyler said. Brendon turned in the loose circle of Tyler's arms, their faces close. Brendon licked his lips, staring at Tyler. It wasn't like looking in a mirror, especially not this close. It was like someone else was wearing his skin, pulling his features just slightly differently, enough to set him off balance. Tyler cleared his throat. "I never fell asleep. I always -- I go away when I sleep, you know."
Brendon reached up and cupped Tyler's face, tracing his fingertips over Tyler's skin. It didn't feel like touching himself. Tyler let him explore, rubbing his fingers lightly through Tyler's hair, over the shell of his ear, the slope of his jaw, the jut of his chin, the curve of his lips. Tyler slipped a hand up to wrap around Brendon's neck.
Tyler closed his eyes as Brendon's hand drifted up over his cheekbones, tracing his nose up to his broad forehead and then stroking back down.
"Why now?" Brendon whispered. "Why are you telling me everything now?"
"I'm here now," Tyler whispered back. He smiled crookedly, keeping his eyes closed. "I don't know. It kind of seemed like the right time. With the Ryan thing, and Brent, and just. I'm making this up as I go along. I didn't mean for it to get so -- so fucked up."
"I know," Brendon said tiredly, closing his eyes. It was true. Hard to lie to yourself, he figured.
Brendon leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to Tyler's, so that he and Tyler were sharing breath. "I don't -- " he said thickly, then gave up on words and kissed Tyler softly, just touching their lips together. All he had to do to break contact was tilt his head down the barest fraction of an inch. Tyler let him, then tipped his head and kissed him back, sucking lightly on Brendon's lower lip. Brendon felt Tyler tighten his grip on his neck, and he pressed against Tyler's cheek in response.
Tyler pulled back, opening his eyes and staring at Brendon. "Thought this would gross you out," Tyler murmured. His mouth stayed open, lips darkened and wet.
"Not right now," Brendon said, struck with the odd urge to just wander, experiment. In response, Tyler kissed him again, pushing his tongue into Brendon's mouth and flicking his way back out. Brendon sucked Tyler's tongue into his mouth and ran his hand down to settle at Tyler's waist, nudging himself closer.
It didn't feel as surreal as it should have, maybe. Brendon had found out early that kissing boys was just about the same as kissing girls, warm and wet and usually eager with the small fumbling that came from trying to be familiar with someone else's body. Kissing Tyler wasn't so much different from kissing Ryan, really; Brendon couldn't tell that he and Tyler might as well have been twins with his eyes closed and his mind lost to slow exploring.
Tyler broke contact and started kissing his way across Brendon's jaw, down his neck, stopping to suck gently at the skin and swirl his tongue, tasting Brendon's sweat. Brendon tilted his head back to give him better access, slipping his hand under Tyler's shirt.
"Are we really doing this?" Tyler asked, stroking Brendon's hair.
"If you want," Brendon said. He just wanted to lose himself in something that wasn't real, to just let someone else take control for a little while. Everything was so completely fucked up, and nothing was going to change the gigantic mess he'd made for himself, but that didn't mean he had to fix everything right away.
"I want," Tyler said, voice rough. It made Brendon shiver, a little.
"Okay, then," Brendon whispered. Tyler kissed him hard, biting into his mouth enough to make it throb along the sharp line of his teeth set into Brendon's lip.
"I wanna fuck you," Tyler breathed into Brendon's mouth.
"Yeah, okay," Brendon said. He licked his lips.
"Don't do me any favours, now," Tyler jibed, tipping his head to the side and biting Brendon's earlobe, hard and quick.
Brendon cupped Tyler's face in his palms, pressing their foreheads together. "I want it," he said, feeling suddenly fierce and vulnerable. Tyler kissed him again, and Brendon opened for him, relaxing into the curl of arousal in his veins, letting himself just feel. Tyler pushed him over onto his back, getting a leg in between Brendon's and grinding his hip down a little, testing the waters. Brendon rolled his hips back and smoothed a hand down the curve of Tyler's spine, dipping fingertips into the back of his pants' waistband. Tyler pushed down harder, rutting against Brendon's thigh.
Tyler sat up and pulled his shirt up over his head, dropping it over the side of the bed. Brendon traced the line of his waist, rubbing his thumb over a nipple until it hardened.
"It's like touching someone else," Brendon said softly.
"I am someone else," Tyler said, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding the zipper down slowly, deliberately.
"Not really," Brendon said. He helped Tyler work his jeans down, snapping the elastic band of his briefs before tugging them off, careful with Tyler's cock, flushed and hard. Tyler smirked down at him, rolling to his feet and kicking his clothes away. Brendon lifted his own hips, hooking his thumbs into his jeans and briefs and shimmying out of them together. Tyler crawled over his body, shoving his shirt up. Brendon lifted his arms, sitting up a little and letting Tyler struggle him out of it. Tyler settled against him, hissing when their cocks made contact. "Is watching you going to be like watching myself come?"
"Watching other people come is hot," Tyler said, rubbing down against Brendon. Brendon's eyes slipped shut and he bit his lip, twisting his hips up. "Hey, there still lube in the dresser drawer?"
Brendon moaned in response, hooking his leg up over Tyler's hip and grinding up, "Fuck, just -- just s'good, okay?"
"Hey," Tyler said sharply, reaching for Brendon's wrists and pinning them to the bed in a quick, snapping movement. Brendon arched, but Tyler was holding himself up over Brendon's, keeping their bodies apart. He leaned his weight into Brendon's hips, making Brendon squirm a little at the flare of pain. "You want to do this or not?"
"Yeah, c'mon," Brendon said, shifting.
"Then let me get the lube," Tyler said, planting a brief biting kiss on Brendon's mouth before sitting back on his haunches and reaching to dig through the dresser drawer. Brendon stayed still while Tyler fussed with the cap on the lube, trying to keep himself from thinking about what was happing. Brendon grabbed a pillow from under his head and lifted his hips, sliding it beneath them. Tyler nudged his legs apart and crouched between them. Brendon tensed up a little when Tyler's fingertip rubbed over his hole, shying away from the cold.
It had been long enough that the first push was unfamiliar, and Brendon shifted his hips awkwardly. Tyler was surprisingly careful in the way he twisted his fingers into Brendon slowly, one at a time, working them out completely before adding another. Brendon tried to keep his breathing even, and mostly failed.
"Ready?" Tyler asked, punctuating the question with a curl of his fingers. Brendon swore and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Tyler fumbled for a condom, lube-sticky fingers slipping on the packet.
"Use your teeth," Brendon said impatiently.
"No way, man, I'm always scared I'm gonna, like, bite through it," Tyler said, rolling the condom on over his cock. Brendon snorted, watching him himself a few times before lifting his legs pointedly. Tyler inched forward, crouching. "Yeah, yeah. Here, get your legs over my shoulders."
"Um, no," Brendon said, scrunching his face up.
"I know you're flexible," Tyler said dryly. He stroked Brendon's ankles, leaning down and pressing his chest to the backs of Brendon's thighs. Brendon let him, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach at the look of desire on Tyler's face. Tyler reached down and gripped at his dick, rubbing the head over Brendon's hole.
"Fine, yeah, do it," Brendon grunted, trying to push down. Tyler started working his cock in slowly, little rolls of his hips. He paused for a moment with his hips pressed flush to Brendon's ass, eyes wide.
Tyler pulled out slowly, leaving the tip of his dick just barely in Brendon's ass, and took a breath before slamming in hard.
"Fuck," Brendon gasped, bearing down for each harsh thrust of Tyler's cock into his ass, feeling raw and barely stretched even with lube slicking the way and the memory of Tyler's fingers working him open. Tyler wasn't going slow, wasn't being gentle or careful, and Brendon guessed that made sense, knowing his own limits, knowing that it would -- and did, God -- hurt but that there were different kinds of hurting, like the kind that had a sharp edge of pleasure sparking with each wince. This was a good hurt, being spread and forced open like this.
Brendon tried to work his hips up, tried to work with Tyler's rhythm, but gave up and just let Tyler have him, push him into the mattress and pound into him, only dimly noting the slapping of their flesh together. He couldn't really reach his cock with Tyler pressing down against him, keeping his chest level against Brendon's thighs and working his hips hard, and he wanted to get off, wanted to come with Tyler still inside him, wanted to feel Tyler fuck him through the lingering slow waves of his orgasm.
Tyler leaned back, letting Brendon's legs slip down, chuckling a little when Brendon winced. Brendon settled his legs up around Tyler's waist, sucking in a ragged and bracing himself for a fresh onslaught. The new angle was tighter, but it let Brendon arch down and shove himself onto Tyler's cock.
Brendon's head was pounding, little stuttering half-sentences that didn't make sense even in his own mind, and he reached down to fumble for his dick, squeezing hard. He rubbed his thumb over the head of his dick, desperate now for release, for anything to relieve the ache of want in his body. Tyler's thrusts were getting sloppy, shorter and rougher, and Brendon closed his eyes and just felt, just let his hips grind up against Tyler, let his fingers work his cock, let his back arch, God, he was so close, and Tyler just kept fucking, their harsh gasping breaths ghosting together, and then just one more and Brendon was coming apart, voice cracking as he whimpered, coming in a hot rush between their bodies.
Tyler didn't hesitate, didn't slow down at all, taking Brendon higher with each slam of his cock into Brendon's ass, making him writhe, drawing out his orgasm. It left him shaking and open, sore and shuddering as Tyler buried his face in the crook of Brendon's neck and thrust just a few more times, just enough to make his pulse throb almost too painfully, and then his cock was jerking inside of Brendon and he was crying out. He collapsed on top of Brendon, weight pinning him down. Brendon waited for them to both catch their breath before he nudged at Tyler, wincing at the sliding withdrawal of Tyler's dick.
Brendon rolled onto his side, ignoring the mess in favour of the tantalizing pull of sleep. The sheets needed cleaning anyway. Tyler pressed up against him, sticky with sweat and come, and it probably should have been gross, but Brendon really just wanted to sleep and not think, so he did and did not.
--
Brendon woke up alone to the ringing of his Sidekick on the floor where he'd plugged it in. He fumbled himself upright and hit Answer without looking.
"H'lo," he managed.
"Jon needs to get picked up at the airport," Ryan said. Brendon scrunched up his face, trying to wake up. He pulled the phone from his face and squinted at the screen -- ten a.m. Fuck.
Brendon pushed his glasses on, shoving them up the bridge of his nose while he tried to get his thoughts together.
"Hello?" he called out. The bathroom door was open and the light wasn't on. The apartment was silent. Brendon got up and padded out to the living room. "Hello?" Empty.
Belatedly, he remembered Ryan, and jerked the phone back to his cheek, wincing at Ryan's impatient shouting. "Are you listening?"
"What, what?" Brendon asked, heading back into the bedroom. He shook his jeans out. His keys were still there, and his Sidekick was still plugged in next to the bed. Everything was where he left it. Tyler was just...gone.
"Jon needs to get picked up at the airport," Ryan was saying.
"Yeah, uh-huh," Brendon said. He pressed the phone to his ear with his shoulder, rifling through his wallet. Nothing was missing.
"Well? Can you?" Ryan asked.
"Sure, just -- " Brendon sat down heavily on the bed. "What time does he get in?"
"I emailed you," Ryan said. "Practice at five. Me and Spencer are eating before. See you there." He hung up before Brendon could say goodbye.
--
Brendon channel-flipped halfheartedly for a while, checking the time on his Sidekick every few minutes, until it was time to leave to go get Jon. It was hard to believe that Tyler had just vanished, but he wasn't anywhere in the apartment, and if he'd gone somewhere he probably would have taken the van, so. Tyler was wherever he went when he went away.
It was probably weird, Brendon thought as he pulled into the airport's parking lot. Weird to blink in and out of existing like that. Was it like Terminator, he wondered. Did Tyler show up naked? How did he see without Brendon's glasses? Brendon shook his head and took his keys out of the ignition, headed to the terminal.
--
"Seriously, are you going to get on-key at any point tonight?" Ryan snapped. Brendon bit the inside of his cheek hard, closing his eyes and trying to keep himself from lashing out. Ryan had ignored him so far all night. And then the first statement directed at Brendon was criticism, of course.
"From the top, then," Jon said, clapping his hands. He was slightly off-beat but Ryan didn't say anything.
"You're a little slow, Jon," Brendon said, still leaning his head against the piano. His skin felt too tight, like it was holding in too much. Maybe it was. Maybe it was holding Tyler back.
"Oh my God, if you guys don't stop nitpicking I'm going to kill you both, I swear," Spencer called out. "Now come the fuck on, Erik and Bart are going to be here at three o'clock tomorrow. If we're this sloppy with them, they're gonna laugh in our faces. So. Let's get through this one song just one time and then let's go home, get some sleep, and kick some ass in the morning."
"Karma Police, take one trillion," Brendon shouted before sitting up straight and touching middle C.
--
Brendon couldn't force himself to go home after practice, so he just headed north on the freeway, pulling over into the desert about an hour past the Strip. He reclined his seat, letting his head fall back and his eyes slip shut, focusing on Tyler, every difference between him and Brendon, half-expecting to see Tyler sitting in the passenger seat when he opened his eyes. He wasn't. Brendon scrunched his eyes closed again and took a deep breath.
"Tyler," he said clearly. "Tyler, I want you here."
Nothing.
Knowing about Tyler probably wouldn't change much. If Brendon couldn't control when he showed up and disappeared, then it was really Tyler's problem. So far, Tyler had managed to keep his existence concealed, anyway, and that hopefully wouldn't change. It wasn't like he had anything to gain from revealing himself to -- well, to anyone, really.
It was unnerving to know that at any given time, he could have a double running around with a separate agenda, out of his control, but what exactly was he supposed to do? Set evil twin traps on the bus?
Tyler had said that he wanted to be the one living Brendon's life, but that probably wasn't possible if he couldn't stop himself from disappearing every time he went to sleep. Which was apparently the case. Unless he knew something Brendon didn't, and fuck, this was making Brendon's head hurt. Brendon wished fervently that he had someone he could just talk to about this with, but, seriously, who?
It was going to be okay, Brendon decided. He'd just. Deal with Tyler whenever he showed up. If he ever did again.
--
The lights and were on when Brendon got into his apartment. He froze at the entrance, holding his keys loosely in his hand. The door had been locked, no sign of forced entry or anything like that. He shuffled inside slowly, closing the door behind him. When he glanced towards his bedroom, he saw Tyler leaning against the doorframe.
"You're an asshole," Tyler said angrily.
"What," Brendon said. "What? I just woke up and you were gone."
"And now I'm back," Tyler sniped. "Did you ever think that maybe I hate this, just disappearing when I don't even know what's going to happen when I come back? So we need to talk. I haven't changed my mind about wanting -- wanting more, you know."
"I don't really think that's going to work out if you just disappear whenever you fall asleep," Brendon pointed out, doing his best to not think about how he'd tried to make Tyler appear in the desert.
"Look, it's your subconscious, okay? That's why I'm here at all. So if you want me to play the shows on this tour for you, then I'll probably just reappear every morning or whatever. We can switch places or something," Tyler said, crossing his arms tightly.
"I don't want you to," Brendon said. He sat down on the couch, fiddling with his keyring. "I mean. I kind of like my life now, okay? I worked hard for it."
"Well, so did I," Tyler said.
Brendon sighed, frustrated. "And what about Ryan?"
"What about him?" Tyler was practically glaring, chin lifted defiantly.
"Have you thought about talking to him about what you did? That it wasn't me the whole time?" Brendon clarified, crossing his arms, left over right, just to be different from Tyler. The posture was awkward, but, stubbornly, Brendon didn't adjust.
"I don't really think that's a good idea," Tyler said finally. "What are you gonna say? 'Sorry we had a really fucking weird couple of months there, Ryan, there happened to be two of me. No, really, I swear I didn't know about the other one.' That's totally believable."
"I think he kind of has a right to know," Brendon snapped.
"What, to up the chances that he'll take you back?" Tyler taunted. "You think if you just tell him I'm the bad guy it'll fix everything? Not likely."
"I can't deal with this right now," Brendon said, shaking his head. "It's late. I'm tired. I have practice in the morning."
"I'll go," Tyler said right away.
"What?"
Tyler walked to the couch, sat next to Brendon. "I mean, I can go to practice for you. I haven't been around all that long this time, and I -- I don't think I'm gonna be able to sleep anyway, so I might as well do something, right? We can talk when I get back. It's one practice, and it's not like I haven't practiced with the band before, you know?"
"I guess," Brendon said slowly. Tyler was looking at him with wide eyes, his expression a mix between hopeful and determined. Brendon was familiar with that one, too. The one thing Brendon was waiting for was to see Tyler look as exhausted as Brendon felt. It didn't seem like it was worth fighting, the idea of Tyler taking his place for just one day. It's happened a million times, Brendon told himself. It hasn't gone wrong yet, he thought, and the idea of a day to himself to just hibernate was dizzyingly tempting.
"And I mean, I know everything that happened while I was gone, so," Tyler waved his hand.
"What if you do, you know, fall asleep?" Brendon asked, biting his lip.
"Practice is at eleven, right? So I'll have to leave by ten-thirty? Set your alarm for ten. Then you can just go back to sleep or whatever after you make sure I leave," Tyler said.
The silence that followed was heavy. "I'm pretty tired, so I'm just gonna go crash," Brendon said finally, standing.
"Sweet dreams," Tyler called out. Brendon shut the bedroom door. He leaned back against it, taking a moment to catch his breath before stripping down to his underwear and crawling into bed. It took him a long time to fall asleep, and the whole time he was uncomfortably aware of Tyler, awake in the other room, counting down the hours until he went and took Brendon's place.
I wonder if they can tell that it's not really me, Brendon wondered as he drifted off. I wonder if I'd be able to tell.
--
Brendon's alarm clock went off at 9:18 because it was a piece of shit that clearly hated him. He tried resetting it and getting back into bed, but it went off thirteen minutes later, which he decided to take as a sign that he just wasn't meant to sleep.
The TV was off when Brendon headed into the living room, and the apartment was quiet. "Tyler?" he called out. No answer. "Tyler, you here?" Brendon paced around the apartment for a few minutes before giving up and going to check the coffee table. His Sidekick and keys were right where he'd left them.
"Guess I'm going to practice today after all," Brendon said to himself.
--
Brendon couldn't think of what to do but head to the practice space early. At least they'd left all their instruments set up there, if nothing else he could screw around with drums and piano and maybe have a go with the cello they brought in for Bart.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of place, on the drive to the practice space. Tyler had been so sure he'd be awake in the morning, but Brendon couldn't really be upset that he'd vanished, because it was just more ammunition for the argument that Tyler couldn't take primary control of their -- of Brendon's life.
I'm literally gearing up to argue with myself, Brendon thought, shaking his head.
When Brendon got inside the practice room, Ryan was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a banjo in his hands and Tyler next to him, correcting the positioning of his fingers. Ryan and Tyler looked up in unison at the sound of the door opening and Brendon had exactly half a second to think, Oh, shit.
--
"Brendon fainted the first time he saw me," Tyler offered.
"I did not," Brendon said.
"Yeah, you did," Tyler said. Ryan didn't say anything.
"Um, so," Brendon tried. "This is his fault."
"I left a note," Tyler said indignantly. "Right on the microwave. We can go back to the apartment if you don't believe me. What kind of dumbass doesn't even check the kitchen?"
"Next time I have an evil twin I'll know what to do, thanks," Brendon said, rolling his eyes.
"The note says 'Ross called, something about a banjo, see you tonight, he's picking me up,'" Tyler continued.
"Oh, whatever, I thought you were -- " Brendon flapped his hands vaguely. "Somewhere. Else. Gone. And anyway, why didn't you take my Sidekick? Or my wallet?"
"I'm not used to having them with me," Tyler said.
"How long?" Ryan asked, voice quiet. He was looking at his hands, fingers laced together loosely over his legs, still crossed. Tyler glanced over at Brendon, as if he were asking for permission. Brendon shrugged and nodded at the same time.
"Since the first time Pete came out here," Tyler said. Ryan's head shot up, and he fastened his gaze on Tyler.
"So more than a year," he said evenly.
"I'm sorry," Brendon burst in, twisting his shirt in his hands.
"Then that's why -- I can't fucking believe you," Ryan said. He didn't shout. Didn't raise his voice at all.
"I'm sorry, too," Tyler said, and he looked it. His face was all twisted up, and Brendon wanted to pull him aside and tell him how to do it right, how to make a sad face the right way, because he didn't look like Brendon knew he looked when he was upset like that. The features were right, but the way he moved them was all wrong. Brendon wasn't sure if it was something he could ever get used to.
"How did I not know?" Ryan asked. He went back to staring at his hands. Brendon wished he'd yell or something.
"I didn't know, either," Brendon said.
Ryan snorted. "Yeah, I believe that. I can't even -- I don't know who you are."
"I don't know who I am, either," Tyler said in a small voice.
"Sucks to be you," Ryan said, getting to his feet. He pulled his Sidekick down and checked the screen. "It's almost ten-thirty. One of you needs to leave before Jon and Spencer get here. I don't really care which one."
"You said I could do practice today," Tyler said to Brendon quickly. Ryan shot him a scathing glare.
"So, what, you're taking turns playing Brendon? I bet that's a fun game for you," he said sharply.
"It's not a game," Brendon said. He scrambled to his feet. "Look, it's -- we're trying to figure it out, okay? I don't know what to do, Ryan."
"Whatever," Ryan said, eyes narrowing.
"I mean it," Brendon said. "I didn't ask for this, all right? I never even knew he existed until the day before yesterday. And I don't know how to deal with it, or with him, or you, or -- or anything."
"How am I supposed to believe that?" Ryan asked coldly.
"I don't know," Brendon shouted.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," Tyler said from the floor.
"Well, it did," Ryan said. He just looked tired at this point. Brendon could sympathize. He wanted to curl up and sleep for the rest of the day, and realized with a start that he could.
"I'm gonna go, then," Brendon said. "I guess -- I'll see you when we leave for Maryland."
"Fine," Ryan said. He sat back down and picked up the banjo again. Tyler looked up at Brendon helplessly. Brendon tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged. He didn't look back when he let himself out, cautious, glancing around the door frame to see if Jon or Spencer were on their way in. The parking lot was empty, thankfully, and he didn't pass anyone he knew on the street on the drive back to his apartment.
--
Somewhere around seven, there was a knock at the door.
Brendon had tried sleeping the whole day, but had only managed to drift off for maybe a half hour at a time. He never really sank into that same deep sleep he'd grown accustomed to over the past year, probably because he wasn't the same tired he'd been over the past year. It wasn't the kind of pervasive, gritty-eyed tired that supporting an evil twin or whatever apparently got you, just the regular bone-deep tiredness of dealing with a life that had spun wildly out of control. Which was just fucking irritating. Brendon appreciated not feeling as tired, but he still felt exhausted, only now he couldn't sleep on top of it all.
Brendon wasn't sure he should really be answering the door, with Tyler out and about pretending to be him, but he got up and looked through the peephole anyway. It was Ryan. Brendon stumbled back from the door. Ryan knocked again, harder this time. Brendon was stunned into action, his hand coming up to open the door before he even thought about it.
Ryan and Brendon just stared at each other until Ryan sighed impatiently and pushed past him into the apartment.
Brendon cleared his throat. "Aren't you supposed to be at practice?"
"We're taking a break for dinner," Ryan said. "I didn't tell anyone I was coming here instead."
"Not even -- "
"No, I didn't tell...him. The other Brendon," Ryan said.
"His name is Tyler," Brendon said automatically. Ryan stared at him for a moment, and then comprehension dawned.
"Cute," he said.
"He picked it," Brendon said, feeling himself flushing a little. He leaned against the wall, looking anywhere but at Ryan.
"You really didn't know what I was talking about," Ryan said abruptly.
"Huh?"
"In England. When we had that fight. After we fucked," Ryan clarified.
"No, I didn't," Brendon said. "I swear, I didn't know. I didn't know anything."
"Well, that makes some kind of sense," Ryan said. "You really have been like two different people."
"And you didn't guess anything?" Brendon asked.
"Yes," Ryan said flatly. "I guessed that you had an evil twin running around fucking me and ditching Brent in drugstores. That was the very first thing I thought."
"Well, when you say it like that," Brendon muttered.
"Whatever you end up doing," Ryan said carefully.
"I don't know yet," Brendon said.
"Let me finish. Whatever you end up doing, I want to know. We're supposed to be in this together." Ryan smiled crookedly at Brendon.
"Yeah," Brendon said. He stepped forward, slowly, and put his arms around Ryan, and Ryan let him. Ryan hugged him back, even; a little hesitant, but still a response.
"I want to know everything that happened," Ryan said quietly, tucking his chin over Brendon's shoulder.
"I don't know everything yet," Brendon said. He closed his eyes, let himself hold Ryan more tightly.
"After practice is over," Ryan said, pulling back. "I have to drop him off anyway."
"See you then," Brendon said, crossing his arms self-consciously.
"Okay," Ryan said, heading to the door. He paused and looked back at Brendon over his shoulder. "You really didn't know?"
"Cross my heart," Brendon said, holding his hands out in surrender.
--
"So Brendon's brain created you to make his life easier?" Ryan asked slowly. He was sprawled on the couch, staring at the ceiling, leaving Tyler and Brendon flopped on the floor.
"I guess, yeah," Tyler said, glancing at Brendon. It was the way he clenched his jaw, Brendon decided; that was what made his face look slightly off. Brendon didn't walk around with his mouth hanging open, exactly, but Tyler had a tendency to hold his jaw tightly shut, and it subtly shifted all of his features. All of Brendon's features. He definitely wasn't ever going to get used to the inexact mirror of Tyler's presence.
"I think you've made a lot more problems than you've solved," Ryan said.
"We got everything we wanted," Tyler said, sounding defensive.
"Yeah, about that," Ryan said. "Which one of you slept with Pete?"
Tyler coughed.
"That's what I thought," Ryan said. "How many times?"
"Not, like, a lot," Tyler hedged.
"I feel like I should want to know, but I just really don't want to," Brendon said.
"Pussy," Tyler said.
"Oh, fuck off," Brendon said, shoving him. Tyler fell over onto his side with a squawk.
"We'll have to tell Spencer, at least," Ryan said thoughtfully.
"Why?" Brendon asked.
"There's another you," Ryan pointed out. "And we can't predict when he's going to show up. Spencer finding out is an inevitability. Lying to him about you is just stalling, and it's a jackass thing to do."
"If Spencer asked me if I had an evil twin I wouldn't lie," Brendon said.
Ryan threw a cushion at his head. "Lies of omission count."
"You're handling this too well," Brendon griped. "Seriously, you're not wondering how he's real?"
Ryan shrugged. "What am I supposed to do? Freak out and lose my shit? I don't think there actually is an explanation for how your brain managed to produce a whole extra person, so there's no point in trying to figure it out. Tyler exists. I don't think there's anything we can do to change that. So let's figure this the fuck out."
"I can't control or predict when he's going to show up," Brendon said. "Why are we acting like this is a custody battle? For my life?"
"He's a person," Ryan said seriously.
"Yeah, I'm a person," Tyler piped up, in agreement.
"He's not around all the time," Ryan said. "So when he is, it makes sense that he'd get first dibs, or something. Carpe diem, and all that."
"I still don't know what I'm supposed to do when he magically appears," Brendon said.
"You could hide on the bus?" Tyler offered.
"I can't hide on the bus," Brendon said. "I think you're not remembering what buses are actually like. And what do I do while you're off being me, anyway?"
"We could rent a car," Ryan tried.
"And nobody's going to notice me driving away and just, like, leaving the car when I show up again to play the show or whatever? Who's going to drive it when he's not here?" Brendon pointed out.
"You could get Zack or a tech to take you to a motel or something," Tyler said.
"Same problem," Brendon said. "Why am I going to a hotel right before a show? That's just gonna make everyone think I'm into weird hookers. Not the publicity we're really looking for. Also, it still doesn't explain why I reappear at the venue."
"Walk to the hotel, then," Ryan said. "Or a café. Or whatever. Does it matter?"
"And, what, just hope nobody sees me sneak away? That's kind of risky," Brendon said.
"I give up," Tyler said tiredly. "It's, like three in the morning, man. Let's get some fucking sleep."
"Fine," Ryan said. "Can we at least agree to tell Spencer? After the thing in Maryland? We're leaving in like twelve hours for that."
"Yeah, I remember," Brendon groaned, rubbing at his face. "Fine, yeah, we can tell Spencer when we get back. The next time Tyler shows up, I guess."
"Awesome. I'm crashing here," Ryan said.
"You can have the couch," Brendon said.
"Do you still have the futon?" Ryan asked.
"No, but the couch will fold out," Brendon said.
"I meant for Tyler," Ryan said, looking at Brendon out of the corner of his eye, brow furrowed slightly.
"Oh," Brendon said. "Ah. Tyler's sleeping with me. In my bed, I mean. We're sharing."
"Huh," Ryan said. Brendon stood up awkwardly, straightening before holding his hand out for Tyler to hold as he pulled himself to his feet.
"I'm hungry," Tyler said. "Did you get food?"
"There's leftover Chinese in the fridge," Brendon said.
"Sweet," Tyler said happily, heading for the kitchen. Ryan was still giving Brendon that weird sidelong glance.
"What?" Brendon said.
"You're sleeping with him," Ryan said, tone flat and face unreadable.
"I don't like sleeping alone," Brendon said defensively.
"I know you don't," Ryan said.
"So?"
"So, nothing, then," Ryan said. He stood up and stretched slowly, his shirt riding up. Brendon forced himself to look away. "I'm gonna go steal your toothbrush, okay?"
"Sure," Brendon said, even though Ryan was already walking away. Tyler came up beside him, still shoveling chow mein into his mouth.
"You used up all the soy sauce packets," Tyler accused him through a mouthful of noodles. He swallowed noisily. "What was that about?"
"Dunno," Brendon said.
--
"Okay, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, seriously," Brendon said. He was stuffing the last of his clothes into his bag, pausing to address Tyler.
"I'm not a moron," Tyler said. "And I'm not even going to be around that long. I vanish when I pass out, remember. Man cannot live by Mountain Dew alone."
"Whatever. When I get back we have a solid five days of practice, and then we leave for Arizona to start the headliner," Brendon said.
"You'd better not hog all that time to yourself," Tyler warned.
"Dude, I need the practice, too, we're gonna be fucked if we're each only half ready," Brendon said, hefting his duffle over his shoulder and walking towards the bedroom door. He wasn't sure why he'd shut it the night before. Ryan sleeping in the other room wasn't a big deal. If Ryan walked in on them or something, that wouldn't have been a big deal, either. It wasn't like they were doing anything embarrassing or whatever. Still.
"Does that mean I get to do fun stuff?" Tyler asked hopefully.
"Ryan seems to think so," Brendon muttered. He leaned against the door frame and shouted across the apartment, in the general direction of the bathroom closest to the kitchen. "Ross, are you packed yet? We're getting picked up in, like, five hours. Does Zack know you're here?"
"My bag's in my car," Ryan yelled through the bathroom door. "Text Zack for me, all right?"
"I got it," Tyler said, reaching for Brendon's Sidekick. Brendon dropped his bag on the floor and flopped back on the bed, butting his head up against Tyler's hip, looking for attention. Tyler set the Sidekick aside and reached down to ruffle Brendon's hair affectionately. Brendon closed his eyes and hummed in appreciation. "C'mere," Tyler said, nudging him. Brendon wriggled up, tucking his nose into the crook of Tyler's shoulder, holding on tightly, trying to ignore Ryan in the other room. Tyler squirmed pointedly, so Brendon draped a leg over Tyler's hips, getting closer.
"Hey," Brendon heard Ryan say from the doorway to the bedroom. He suppressed the urge to jump away from Tyler. They weren't doing anything.
"Hi," Tyler said, arm tightening around Brendon's waist.
"You just gonna hang here, then?" Brendon asked.
"My dad's home again," Ryan said. "So, if it's okay."
"Yeah, sure," Brendon said. He closed his eyes again, trying to slow his heartbeat. Tyler's pulse was pounding against his cheek, steady and too fast. It was good to know he wasn't alone, at least.
"I can leave, if you want," Ryan said softly, hovering at the doorway.
"There's room," Tyler said, shifting away from Brendon, making a space between them. Ryan hesitated another moment before shuffling out of his shoes and crawling awkwardly onto the bed. He lay down between them, not closer to either, as though he wasn't sure who he was allowed to touch. A heartbeat after Brendon thought to reach over and wrap his arm around Ryan, Tyler did the same thing, knuckles brushing Brendon's hip. Ryan was lying on his back, shifting back and forth, staring straight ahead.
"Hey," Brendon said, "hey, it's just me, you know? Just. More of me, I guess."
"What the world really needed, more Brendon Urie," Ryan said, but his voice wasn't as sure as Brendon was used to. Ryan turned over onto his side, facing Brendon. Tyler curled up closer behind him, nudging him closer to Brendon in the process. Brendon's breath caught in his throat. It was the closest he'd been to Ryan since the fight back in England. Tyler dipped his head down and pressed a soft kiss to the curve of Ryan's neck. Ryan shivered and glanced at Brendon, uncertain. Brendon licked his lips hesitantly. Ryan mirrored him, unconsciously.
"We never talked about who was who," Brendon said. Ryan blinked at him. "You know. When -- before. I thought you'd want to know when I was me and when I, um, wasn't. When Tyler was me, I guess."
"I don't think it's that important," Ryan said. "Just. Don't do it again."
"We won't," Brendon said, holding Ryan's gaze. "Right, Tyler?"
"Uh-huh," Tyler said. Brendon reached over, snaking his hand between Ryan's body and Tyler's, pinching Tyler's nipple hard. "Ow. I -- come on, I'm not actually an evil twin, Jesus."
Brendon closed his eyes in the lull that followed, anything to keep from having to look at Ryan, to be so close and so unsure of where they stood. He listened to Ryan's breathing, and Tyler's. They weren't evening out. What comes next? Brendon wondered. He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself.
"Ryan," he said softly. "Does this -- the whole thing with Tyler, does it mean you don't want to forget about the you and me thing anymore?" Ryan took in a sudden sharp breath.
"It changes things," Ryan allowed. "But it's kind of. It's not just you."
"I know," Brendon said.
"I can go," Tyler offered quietly.
"Stay," Ryan said. Brendon frowned, confused. "Do you want him to leave?"
"No," Brendon said after a moment of consideration. "Do you?"
"No, I don't," Ryan said with a small smile. "It's just. There's two of you now. I guess there always were, but it's different now that I know. Now that you know, too."
"You don't have to pick a favourite," Tyler mumbled.
"I don't think I could," Ryan said. "But I don't -- I don't want to leave anyone out, either."
Brendon's mouth went dry. "You mean. Us? Three? Like, together?"
"If you wanted," Ryan said, turning to look at him. He kept licking his lip, nervously, Brendon was sure he didn't even know he was doing it.
"Really?" Tyler asked quietly.
Ryan rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling again, voice distant. "I just. I can't just separate it all out. Even if we went through the last year hour by hour. I couldn't. I don't want to."
"Okay," Tyler said softly. "Let's try it."
"Me and Tyler," Brendon tried. He swallowed hard. "We already, um."
"Oh," Ryan said. "Oh. Oh, wow, really?"
"Is that what you meant?" Tyler asked, sounding unsure.
"Yeah, I just. I didn't think that you'd want to, I thought you'd think it was weird, with each other," Ryan said, glancing at Brendon. His eyes were bright, cheeks flushed.
"It was, a little," Brendon admitted. "But good. It was good, with us."
"It was," Tyler echoed.
"I want to see," Ryan said. "I want to see you kiss him."
"Yeah, all right," Brendon whispered. He sat up, trying to ignore how nervous he was, on edge and barely aware of what was happening, what they were in the middle of. Tyler sat up on the other side of Ryan, grinning at Brendon before reaching out to cup his cheeks and draw their mouths together.
He kissed more carefully this time, like it was a show for Ryan. It kind of was, Brendon thought, a second chance he didn't think he'd had a shot at. Tyler opened his mouth slowly, licking his way into Brendon's. Brendon dropped his hand to the bed, curling his fingers around Ryan's knee while he kissed Tyler, losing himself in the slow slide of their lips together.
When Brendon pulled back, he looked down at Ryan, just to see his reaction. Ryan was watching them intently, eyes wide and wanting, and that was all Brendon needed to see, really. He pulled away from Tyler and held himself over Ryan, giving Ryan a chance to push him away before he closed the last few inches' distance between their mouths.
Ryan kissed back, fisting his hands in the loose fabric of Brendon's t-shirt. Brendon felt Tyler rubbing down his spine, soothing or maybe just reminding, and he broke the kiss to give Tyler an opening. He took it, and then it was Brendon's turn to stroke Tyler's back, to just watch the two of them together.
It should be weird, Brendon thought, then, I don't want it to be and I'm glad that it's not.
--
Eventually, Ryan fell asleep between them.
"What about when I'm gone?" Tyler asked, keeping his voice low and his gaze fixed on Ryan.
"If you want, I won't do anything with him. Without you, I mean," Brendon offered, trying to sound reassuring. "It's okay, I mean, I get it. We can save that stuff for the three of us." Pairing the uncertainty of Tyler's existence with Ryan wasn't something he was looking forward to, but it was easy to see Tyler's position. Brendon understood wanting to not be left out.
"No, I don't want you to do that for me," Tyler said, frowning. "I just mean. What if I don't come back?"
"You mean, like, next time?" Brendon asked.
"Any time," Tyler said.
"Do you think that's going to happen?" Brendon asked.
"I don't know," Tyler murmured, glancing at him. "It could."
"I think it's going to be okay," Brendon whispered. Tyler took a deep breath and held his hand out. Brendon laced their fingers together and squeezed.
--
The timer on Ryan's Sidekick went off and woke them up shortly before Zack was set to pick them up. Tyler was gone. Brendon didn't move, staying still for Ryan as he turned to face Brendon.
"I could almost believe I dreamed it," Ryan said softly. Brendon hummed in response. "It's so weird that he's just -- gone."
"He'll be back," Brendon said confidently.
"Spencer's gonna lose his shit," Ryan said with a slow smirk.
"C'mon, Ross," Brendon said, sitting up and grinning, feeling stupidly, wholly alive. "The world awaits us."
--
Notes - Part One - Part Two - Part Three