(1/?) When The Day Met The Night.. all wasn't golden? (Ryan / Brendon)
Title: When The Day Met The Night... all wasn't golden?
Pairing: Ryan Ross / Brendon Urie (Ryden)
Bandom: Panic! At The Disco
Rating: T... possibly M later on
Universe: AU
Words: 1,020
Author:realityberent
A/N: I know this chapter is pretty short, but I just wanted to sort of... set the scene a bit, I guess. The next few chapters (I'm not sure how many there are gonna be, but I don't intend for there to be many) will be longer
The August sunlight beaming down onto the Earth below caused the water of the lake to glisten, and the birds lazing on its surface spread their wings wide, greedily taking in the warmth of the sun; the scene was picturesque and nothing could ruin it.
Except maybe Brendon Urie.
“Fucking shit!” The brunette screamed, once again slipping on the long wet arm of the oak tree he was currently clinging onto for dear life. Once he had regained his balance for the third time, he tried once more to reach for the hat that’d gotten caught at the tip of the branch. “Come on, just a little more…. Just a little more.” his eyebrows furrowed in extreme concentration and the tip of his tongue poked its way out between his two full lips.
His fingers brushed the scratchy material of the hat and he grinned in triumph. He grinned maniacally as he slid closer to said hat on his arse, all the while keeping his arm outstretched. Within just a few seconds, his hand closed around the precious hat and he laughed the obnoxious laugh that he regularly got slapped for. What he hadn’t noticed was that he hadn’t actually stopped sliding along the branch, and only finally did notice when he belly flopped into the water.
His groans of pain exploded into bubbles, all noise ceased, and his eye sight blurred until everything became an individual blob of colour. When Brendon registered the fact that ‘oh shit, I can’t breathe’ he quickly yanked his head up above the water an-
“Holy fucking shit!”
“You need a hand there?” A monotonous - although, Brendon swore he could detect slight amusement in there yes, yes - voice melded with the chirping of the birds. Brendon quickly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands in order to get a better look at the stranger.
He was immediately taken aback my some very intense honey brown eyes that pierced into his own slightly darker eyes. The boy - Brendon decided he couldn’t be much older than himself, possibly nineteen or twenty years old - had chocolate brown hair that had been styled to stick up in a sort of faux-hawk, and a thick chocolate fringe curled its way all the way down to his left ear.
He was hot.
“Oh, uh, you- well, I- you see - yes.” He sighed, removed his gaze from the boy’s angelic face, and grabbed for the now outstretched hand. He tried not to ogle at the stranger’s incredibly long and slender fingers, and what he might be able to do with them. “Thank you.”
Suddenly, the strong hold was suddenly relinquished and Brendon found he had a lack on oxygen and struggled to see around the burst of bubbles that escaped his mouth along with his squeak of shock, which came out rather gargled due to the water. Once again, he broke through the surface of the water, struggling for breath.
The boy above him looks a lot less seraphic, the miniscule smile replaced with a smirk. “You’re welcome.”
And then he’s gone.
***
Spencer snorted from behind his magazine, “what the hell were you even doing at that lake anyway? Seriously, you couldn’t wait to scope out the school? You’re gonna be stuck here a while, Bren.”
Brendon groaned, and threw his pillow at Spencer who simply deflected it with his magazine, knocking it into the bedside table and throwing a few papers onto the floor. Realising that Spencer had not intention of righting them, he got down on his hands and knees. “Look, my parents wanted me to go to college and I couldn’t stick it with them back in Vegas, you know this. Besides, we never thought we’d get to go to the same university, right?”
It was true; Brendon’s parents were strictly Mormon, meaning they wanted to ‘keep an eye on their baby boy in college’, which Brendon knew translated roughly to ‘we want to make sure you don’t forget your religious duties.’ And no way in hell was he ready to deal with his parents watching over him like hawks just as they had all his childhood and adolescence. He didn’t know how he was going to deal with it.
Then he remembered he was an eighteen year old boy; an adult who could do whatever the hell he wanted. So he followed Spencer to Chicago, and he was perfectly content spending the next four years without the constant content with his parents. His parents hadn’t even been keen on mobile phones, so he didn’t have to worry about constantly being called. He’d heard that they had payphones and he was looking to get a part time job, so it wasn’t like he was just going to block them out from now on but… freedom… it felt really good.
The reason he’d gone to the lake on the school grounds yesterday is because he’d researched the place (for obvious reasons) and he’d seen the pictures. All he’d hoped for was that he could check it out before school properly kicked in and everybody hung out there. Besides, nature fuelled his creativity like nothing else, which helped when you’re an aspiring musician.
Too bad that arsehole had ruined it. Brendon could picture it all as if it had happened yesterday…. Which, it did, but..
The soft brown eyes, and the equally soft luscious brown hair… and then that fucking smirk when he hit the water again. He obviously went to this school, unless he was a creepy trespassing mother fucker or whatever. He was pretty cute to begin with, but that was just what made it ten times worse; why do so many really hot people have to be the ass holes? The only answer he got was a mouthful of pillow. “Spencer, what the fuck!”
“You were spacing out.” He laughed, “seriously, you’ve been sat there for about two minutes just staring over there. For a moment I was literally concerned that you were checking out my crotch.”
Brendon snorted, climbing into bed and reaching for the bed-side lamp. “In your dreams, Smith.”
Pairing: Ryan Ross / Brendon Urie (Ryden)
Bandom: Panic! At The Disco
Rating: T... possibly M later on
Universe: AU
Words: 1,020
Author:realityberent
A/N: I know this chapter is pretty short, but I just wanted to sort of... set the scene a bit, I guess. The next few chapters (I'm not sure how many there are gonna be, but I don't intend for there to be many) will be longer
The August sunlight beaming down onto the Earth below caused the water of the lake to glisten, and the birds lazing on its surface spread their wings wide, greedily taking in the warmth of the sun; the scene was picturesque and nothing could ruin it.
Except maybe Brendon Urie.
“Fucking shit!” The brunette screamed, once again slipping on the long wet arm of the oak tree he was currently clinging onto for dear life. Once he had regained his balance for the third time, he tried once more to reach for the hat that’d gotten caught at the tip of the branch. “Come on, just a little more…. Just a little more.” his eyebrows furrowed in extreme concentration and the tip of his tongue poked its way out between his two full lips.
His fingers brushed the scratchy material of the hat and he grinned in triumph. He grinned maniacally as he slid closer to said hat on his arse, all the while keeping his arm outstretched. Within just a few seconds, his hand closed around the precious hat and he laughed the obnoxious laugh that he regularly got slapped for. What he hadn’t noticed was that he hadn’t actually stopped sliding along the branch, and only finally did notice when he belly flopped into the water.
His groans of pain exploded into bubbles, all noise ceased, and his eye sight blurred until everything became an individual blob of colour. When Brendon registered the fact that ‘oh shit, I can’t breathe’ he quickly yanked his head up above the water an-
“Holy fucking shit!”
“You need a hand there?” A monotonous - although, Brendon swore he could detect slight amusement in there yes, yes - voice melded with the chirping of the birds. Brendon quickly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands in order to get a better look at the stranger.
He was immediately taken aback my some very intense honey brown eyes that pierced into his own slightly darker eyes. The boy - Brendon decided he couldn’t be much older than himself, possibly nineteen or twenty years old - had chocolate brown hair that had been styled to stick up in a sort of faux-hawk, and a thick chocolate fringe curled its way all the way down to his left ear.
He was hot.
“Oh, uh, you- well, I- you see - yes.” He sighed, removed his gaze from the boy’s angelic face, and grabbed for the now outstretched hand. He tried not to ogle at the stranger’s incredibly long and slender fingers, and what he might be able to do with them. “Thank you.”
Suddenly, the strong hold was suddenly relinquished and Brendon found he had a lack on oxygen and struggled to see around the burst of bubbles that escaped his mouth along with his squeak of shock, which came out rather gargled due to the water. Once again, he broke through the surface of the water, struggling for breath.
The boy above him looks a lot less seraphic, the miniscule smile replaced with a smirk. “You’re welcome.”
And then he’s gone.
***
Spencer snorted from behind his magazine, “what the hell were you even doing at that lake anyway? Seriously, you couldn’t wait to scope out the school? You’re gonna be stuck here a while, Bren.”
Brendon groaned, and threw his pillow at Spencer who simply deflected it with his magazine, knocking it into the bedside table and throwing a few papers onto the floor. Realising that Spencer had not intention of righting them, he got down on his hands and knees. “Look, my parents wanted me to go to college and I couldn’t stick it with them back in Vegas, you know this. Besides, we never thought we’d get to go to the same university, right?”
It was true; Brendon’s parents were strictly Mormon, meaning they wanted to ‘keep an eye on their baby boy in college’, which Brendon knew translated roughly to ‘we want to make sure you don’t forget your religious duties.’ And no way in hell was he ready to deal with his parents watching over him like hawks just as they had all his childhood and adolescence. He didn’t know how he was going to deal with it.
Then he remembered he was an eighteen year old boy; an adult who could do whatever the hell he wanted. So he followed Spencer to Chicago, and he was perfectly content spending the next four years without the constant content with his parents. His parents hadn’t even been keen on mobile phones, so he didn’t have to worry about constantly being called. He’d heard that they had payphones and he was looking to get a part time job, so it wasn’t like he was just going to block them out from now on but… freedom… it felt really good.
The reason he’d gone to the lake on the school grounds yesterday is because he’d researched the place (for obvious reasons) and he’d seen the pictures. All he’d hoped for was that he could check it out before school properly kicked in and everybody hung out there. Besides, nature fuelled his creativity like nothing else, which helped when you’re an aspiring musician.
Too bad that arsehole had ruined it. Brendon could picture it all as if it had happened yesterday…. Which, it did, but..
The soft brown eyes, and the equally soft luscious brown hair… and then that fucking smirk when he hit the water again. He obviously went to this school, unless he was a creepy trespassing mother fucker or whatever. He was pretty cute to begin with, but that was just what made it ten times worse; why do so many really hot people have to be the ass holes? The only answer he got was a mouthful of pillow. “Spencer, what the fuck!”
“You were spacing out.” He laughed, “seriously, you’ve been sat there for about two minutes just staring over there. For a moment I was literally concerned that you were checking out my crotch.”
Brendon snorted, climbing into bed and reaching for the bed-side lamp. “In your dreams, Smith.”