Two Birds [s/a]
Title: Two Birds [s/a]
Author: selectivelyurie
Beta: alphabetatoast (thank you. so much. ♥)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: Third
Summary: They're sharing the same breath when Brendon says, "I'm going to do it."
Disclaimer: Not true. Lyrics belong to Regina Spektor.
Author Notes: Uhh. Thanks, Bden
Two birds on a wire
They're sharing the same breath when Brendon says, "I'm going to do it."
Ryan's eyes are still smoldering, with something lazy now, something content and calm, but there's confidence in Brendon's voice and they flicker with curiosity as he brushes back Brendon's hair and murmurs, "Do what?"
Brendon's eyes flutter closed under Ryan's touch and he half-smiles out of comfort and exhaustion, sweat cooling on the back of his neck and he says, "Tell my parents." He reaches out to lace his fingers with Ryan's and says, "About me. And you. And this."
One tries to fly away
And the other...
"Oh," is all Ryan can say.
Brendon readjusts, puts his temple on Ryan's collarbone and puts their hands on Ryan's stomach. "I want this," Brendon says, snuggling close and whispering kisses against Ryan's chest. "I want this with you."
Ryan's heart is heavy in his chest and there's a fear circling in his gut like a drain and he rubs Brendon's knuckle, presses his nose into Brendon's too long hair and says, "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Brendon replies almost instantly, and Ryan's eyes flicker curious because there's that confidence again and Brendon says, "I love you." Says, "I want them to know that. Even if they don't like it at first."
Watches him close from that wire
He says he wants to as well
Ryan purses his lips against Brendon's forehead, sticky with sweat and kisses he put there earlier when Brendon was just a quivering, boneless heap of big, big eyes and begging lips. And Ryan had looked down and known he'd never see anything as beautiful, no matter where in the world they would travel, no matter how long he lived, no matter, no matter. It was Brendon and Ryan knew and Brendon arched up to Ryan's mouth and pushed, "Harder," through his lips with his tongue and Ryan obliged.
He says, "And what if they don't ever like it?"
Brendon rolls his neck, looks up at Ryan with confused, naive eyes and whispers, "Why wouldn't they?" Brendon looks at Ryan's mouth like the question that came out of it accused him and he says, "I know they won't approve instantly, but if they love me they'll understand. It might take time but they will. Eventually."
Ryan's heart patters out of beat at Brendon's blind hopefulness, envies it, admires it and loves it possibly more than anything else about Brendon, even his smiles that reach his eyes and crinkle his whole face.
He bends low, kisses Brendon’s nose, and grins softly. Brendon asks, "What about you?"
Ryan's smile falters but Brendon doesn't catch it before he reassembles it and says, "One day."
But he is a liar
----
"Brendon, I just- this is our lives we're talking about," Ryan rants, pacing the dressing room backstage, tugging his hair because he can't rub his face for pretty birds flying scattered from his mouth. He turns on his heel and throws his hands at Brendon, cries, "My career and your career and the band and this isn't someth-"
"This is my heart, Ryan."
Ryan's own stops for a moment. "I- what?"
Brendon sighs with his whole body, shoulders drooping and he takes the five-step gap between them carefully, placing his hands on Ryan's shoulders, thumbs sweeping his throat gently and he repeats, "My heart, Ryan. I love you and I want you and I don't want to do this anymore."
Ryan frowns, "The band?"
"No," Brendon says, shaking his head. "No, I mean, I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want kiss you in corners and tell you I love you in whispers anymore, Ry."
"You don't," Ryan says, reaching up to take Brendon's hands and squeeze, maybe to ease some of the hurt from Brendon's voice. "You don't have to, B."
"Yes, I do," Brendon says mournfully, linking their first fingers together. "I do because you do, because you have to."
A pulse of guilt is laced with every slow heartbeat Ryan takes from that moment on, shallow and unsure, like the waters Brendon's been wading through, desperate to take the plunge. Ryan feels like he's drowning and only remembers getting in this deep when he'd seen the love in Brendon's eyes and said, "Yeah, me too," after Brendon had acknowledged it.
He swallows, looks at the ground, bites the inside of his cheek and Brendon presses his forehead to the top of Ryan's head, inhaling his shampoo. Brendon's hair has the same scent. It's silent. Brendon breathes and closes his eyes and rubs his thumbs along the inside of Ryan's wrists, over the pulse there, over the pale skin ("For now," Ryan always says with a sly smirk). There's the distant roar of the crowd, chanting for them and screaming things Brendon knows Ryan's always dreamed of hearing directed at him on stage, and they have five minutes. Five more minutes of this ache Brendon keeps secret from anyone who gets close enough to see, except Ryan. Ryan is always the exception. It's only ever this, locked away and hidden from the world that Brendon's always been so enamored of, sharing silent kisses when there's no one there to judge and wishing with parted lips that one day things will be different.
"I'm afraid," Ryan whispers, and Brendon doesn't catch it but he does, because it's Ryan and his ears are trained to hear even the quietest of things he says. And Ryan keeps staring at the ground, flat ironed hair slung over and across his painted eyes and Brendon can't see anything but the quiver in Ryan's spine through the mirror on the wall opposite them.
Ryan is fragile and broken in ways Brendon will never see because they're internal, below the surface of skin he curls up against every night and it's hard to fix something you can't quite reach. And he's vulnerable, possibly even more so than Brendon is when Ryan folds himself in half on the couch and calls Brendon over with one finger, but there's not a single thing about Ryan that Brendon would change. Even if it makes him slightly unhappy in turn, Brendon can deal because at least Ryan is here, scared or not of everything Brendon wants to express.
I'll believe it all
There's nothing I won't understand
Brendon curls his hand under Ryan's chin, lifts it up and looks him in the eye. "I am too."
Ryan's breath catches just a little, as if words are trying to claw out but he hasn't arranged them correctly yet so he swallows and says, "I don't know if I can do this yet."
"Ryan, we -"
"Not now. Not with everything still so new, Bren," Ryan interrupts, something hidden in his tone that Brendon can't place. "I want this - you - everyday, I do. I just -" Brendon can place this, the way Ryan's voice falters, gets tight and shuts itself off.
I'll believe it all
"Okay," Brendon says. "It's okay, I'll -" He swallows down the thickness in his throat, forces his hope back down and presses what he wishes he could say into Ryan's head, lips hard and deciding. He says, "I'll wait," putting his palm in Ryan's and squeezing softly, I promise.
I won't let go of your hand
Ryan looks up, slow and shy and Brendon brushes back his hair, careful of his makeup and smiles softly. He presses his lips to the corner of Ryan's mouth, envious of the pretty birds flying free from the opposite side and lets his eyes fall closed and just feel the warmth of Ryan's breath when his lips part slightly, opening for Brendon but not yet the world.
----
Two birds of a feather
"Mmm, c'mere," Ryan murmurs, pressing a smirk down into the pillow beneath his head. Brendon presses his own smirk into the dip in Ryan's back and crawls up Ryan's lazy body slowly, kissing licking sucking on each patch of skin that touches his lips and when he reaches the joint of Ryan's neck and shoulder, he lingers, lying flat against Ryan's back, hips aligned and familiar. Ryan groans as Brendon's half-hard cock tempts him as it digs into the top of his ass and Brendon rolls his hips slowly. "Tease," Ryan says playfully, nipping at Brendon's bottom lip when Brendon turns his neck to kiss him.
"I have no problem delivering," Brendon says darkly, one hand playing absently with the hair curling at the nape of Ryan's neck, as if it's distracting Ryan from the other hand Brendon is sliding down his side, slipping into the edge of his boxers.
"Fuck," Ryan says and he sounds breathless when Brendon's teeth scrape along the side of his neck. "You know we have to be up early in the morning."
"I'll make it worth your while," he sing songs and licks the shell of Ryan's ear.
Ryan groans, laughing softly and biting his lip because Brendon's breath is wet and sticky against his ear, delicious and so, so tempting. "Not tonight, B," he says, nudging his shoulder up slightly, nudging Brendon.
With a laugh shortened by impatience, but threaded with genuine humor, Brendon rolls off onto the mattress and says, "You're such an old man, Ross," and puts his palm flat in the dip between Ryan's shoulder blades. Ryan smiles with his eyes closed and adjusts the placement of his head onto Brendon's pillow, an apology. "You're going to regret denying me fifty years from now when you're old and decrepit and can't get it up anymore. Think about that."
Ryan chuckles, light and amused and everything Brendon loves. "What makes you think I'm going to put up with you for that long, huh?" The way his hand sneaks down and curls around Brendon's hip, soft and warm, it makes Ryan's sarcasm okay.
Brendon wiggles closer, presses his nose a few centimeters away from Ryan's and they stare at each other quietly, cross-eyed and fighting off goofy smiles. "Because you're stuck with me." Brendon's voice is hardly audible, but Ryan feels his breath ghost over his lips and he knows. "Forever," Brendon adds, rubbing their noses.
Say that they're always gonna stay together
And Ryan catches Brendon's lips, dry and warm and smooth, stretches them with his smile and whispers, "Sounds good to me."
----
But one's never going to let go of that wire
"I'm not going to jeopardize everything we have, Brendon! I'm not going to do it!"
"Not even for me?"
"Brendon, you know that's not -"
"No, don't- don't fuck with me like this anymore, Ryan." Brendon's voice cracks and Ryan's walls do the same. "I've spent three years trying to convince you to hold my fucking hand in public and you can't even give me that. You don't love me at all."
"Dammit, Brendon, don't talk like that." Ryan's hand slams into the wall next to Brendon's head, pinning him, hot, flustered breath clawing at Brendon's neck, his head bent low to Brendon's ear. Brendon trembles, with rage or hurt or fear, Ryan doesn't know but he's sure it's a nice blend of all three. His eyes are clenched closed and Ryan just wants to feel but they're in the bathroom at Pete's bar, door locked and alone and Brendon had said no when Ryan had picked Brendon up, wrapped his legs around his waist and said Please.
"I don't want this anymore," Brendon says and his neck is stiff, unwavering under Ryan's breath and this isn't normal. This is different and uncomfortable and Ryan puts his head on Brendon's shoulder, surrendering. "I want you but not this. I don't want you like this, Ryan."
"I know," Ryan says because that's all he can say. "I know and I'm sorry."
Brendon swallows and Ryan is grateful for the small hand Brendon wraps around Ryan's wrist, braced hard and tight against the tile of the wall. Brendon's hand is shaking. "I love you," Brendon says and he means it and that's what hurts, what makes Ryan's jaw clench and what makes his stomach twist. "I love you and I'll never stop but... I can't do this."
Ryan's mouth is dry dry dry. "I love you, too."
He says that he will
But he's just...
"You're a liar, Ryan," Brendon says, staring at the ceiling to keep the tears from spilling over. He blinks and one slips but it's manageable. "You don't even know who you are."
Ryan's breath catches softly and he shakes his head, agreeing. Brendon's neck is exposed and long and Ryan presses his face into his temple and his voice is broken but tense, eyes glossy and blurred, "I'm supposed to be with you."
Brendon nods, whispers, "Yeah," and it sounds painful, like it cuts his chest on the way out. Ryan shudders a breath, presses his lips hard into the side of Brendon's head and his spine twitches, weak. "Yeah," Brendon repeats, a hint of a grimace in the way his cheeks pull to the side, "But not right now."
Something sharp hits Ryan's heart, the ache easing dull and slow when Brendon's body stirs and he stands upright, their bodies pressing together warm and solid. Brendon turns his head and kisses the crease of Ryan's elbow, fingers now loose on Ryan's wrist. Ryan feels the burn, the sinking heat in Brendon's lips and when Brendon ducks under his arm, walks to the door and lingers, he looks at Ryan with a small, watery smile.
Two birds on a wire
One tries to fly away and the other...
Ryan watches him go.
Author: selectivelyurie
Beta: alphabetatoast (thank you. so much. ♥)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: Third
Summary: They're sharing the same breath when Brendon says, "I'm going to do it."
Disclaimer: Not true. Lyrics belong to Regina Spektor.
Author Notes: Uhh. Thanks, Bden
Two birds on a wire
They're sharing the same breath when Brendon says, "I'm going to do it."
Ryan's eyes are still smoldering, with something lazy now, something content and calm, but there's confidence in Brendon's voice and they flicker with curiosity as he brushes back Brendon's hair and murmurs, "Do what?"
Brendon's eyes flutter closed under Ryan's touch and he half-smiles out of comfort and exhaustion, sweat cooling on the back of his neck and he says, "Tell my parents." He reaches out to lace his fingers with Ryan's and says, "About me. And you. And this."
One tries to fly away
And the other...
"Oh," is all Ryan can say.
Brendon readjusts, puts his temple on Ryan's collarbone and puts their hands on Ryan's stomach. "I want this," Brendon says, snuggling close and whispering kisses against Ryan's chest. "I want this with you."
Ryan's heart is heavy in his chest and there's a fear circling in his gut like a drain and he rubs Brendon's knuckle, presses his nose into Brendon's too long hair and says, "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Brendon replies almost instantly, and Ryan's eyes flicker curious because there's that confidence again and Brendon says, "I love you." Says, "I want them to know that. Even if they don't like it at first."
Watches him close from that wire
He says he wants to as well
Ryan purses his lips against Brendon's forehead, sticky with sweat and kisses he put there earlier when Brendon was just a quivering, boneless heap of big, big eyes and begging lips. And Ryan had looked down and known he'd never see anything as beautiful, no matter where in the world they would travel, no matter how long he lived, no matter, no matter. It was Brendon and Ryan knew and Brendon arched up to Ryan's mouth and pushed, "Harder," through his lips with his tongue and Ryan obliged.
He says, "And what if they don't ever like it?"
Brendon rolls his neck, looks up at Ryan with confused, naive eyes and whispers, "Why wouldn't they?" Brendon looks at Ryan's mouth like the question that came out of it accused him and he says, "I know they won't approve instantly, but if they love me they'll understand. It might take time but they will. Eventually."
Ryan's heart patters out of beat at Brendon's blind hopefulness, envies it, admires it and loves it possibly more than anything else about Brendon, even his smiles that reach his eyes and crinkle his whole face.
He bends low, kisses Brendon’s nose, and grins softly. Brendon asks, "What about you?"
Ryan's smile falters but Brendon doesn't catch it before he reassembles it and says, "One day."
But he is a liar
----
"Brendon, I just- this is our lives we're talking about," Ryan rants, pacing the dressing room backstage, tugging his hair because he can't rub his face for pretty birds flying scattered from his mouth. He turns on his heel and throws his hands at Brendon, cries, "My career and your career and the band and this isn't someth-"
"This is my heart, Ryan."
Ryan's own stops for a moment. "I- what?"
Brendon sighs with his whole body, shoulders drooping and he takes the five-step gap between them carefully, placing his hands on Ryan's shoulders, thumbs sweeping his throat gently and he repeats, "My heart, Ryan. I love you and I want you and I don't want to do this anymore."
Ryan frowns, "The band?"
"No," Brendon says, shaking his head. "No, I mean, I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want kiss you in corners and tell you I love you in whispers anymore, Ry."
"You don't," Ryan says, reaching up to take Brendon's hands and squeeze, maybe to ease some of the hurt from Brendon's voice. "You don't have to, B."
"Yes, I do," Brendon says mournfully, linking their first fingers together. "I do because you do, because you have to."
A pulse of guilt is laced with every slow heartbeat Ryan takes from that moment on, shallow and unsure, like the waters Brendon's been wading through, desperate to take the plunge. Ryan feels like he's drowning and only remembers getting in this deep when he'd seen the love in Brendon's eyes and said, "Yeah, me too," after Brendon had acknowledged it.
He swallows, looks at the ground, bites the inside of his cheek and Brendon presses his forehead to the top of Ryan's head, inhaling his shampoo. Brendon's hair has the same scent. It's silent. Brendon breathes and closes his eyes and rubs his thumbs along the inside of Ryan's wrists, over the pulse there, over the pale skin ("For now," Ryan always says with a sly smirk). There's the distant roar of the crowd, chanting for them and screaming things Brendon knows Ryan's always dreamed of hearing directed at him on stage, and they have five minutes. Five more minutes of this ache Brendon keeps secret from anyone who gets close enough to see, except Ryan. Ryan is always the exception. It's only ever this, locked away and hidden from the world that Brendon's always been so enamored of, sharing silent kisses when there's no one there to judge and wishing with parted lips that one day things will be different.
"I'm afraid," Ryan whispers, and Brendon doesn't catch it but he does, because it's Ryan and his ears are trained to hear even the quietest of things he says. And Ryan keeps staring at the ground, flat ironed hair slung over and across his painted eyes and Brendon can't see anything but the quiver in Ryan's spine through the mirror on the wall opposite them.
Ryan is fragile and broken in ways Brendon will never see because they're internal, below the surface of skin he curls up against every night and it's hard to fix something you can't quite reach. And he's vulnerable, possibly even more so than Brendon is when Ryan folds himself in half on the couch and calls Brendon over with one finger, but there's not a single thing about Ryan that Brendon would change. Even if it makes him slightly unhappy in turn, Brendon can deal because at least Ryan is here, scared or not of everything Brendon wants to express.
I'll believe it all
There's nothing I won't understand
Brendon curls his hand under Ryan's chin, lifts it up and looks him in the eye. "I am too."
Ryan's breath catches just a little, as if words are trying to claw out but he hasn't arranged them correctly yet so he swallows and says, "I don't know if I can do this yet."
"Ryan, we -"
"Not now. Not with everything still so new, Bren," Ryan interrupts, something hidden in his tone that Brendon can't place. "I want this - you - everyday, I do. I just -" Brendon can place this, the way Ryan's voice falters, gets tight and shuts itself off.
I'll believe it all
"Okay," Brendon says. "It's okay, I'll -" He swallows down the thickness in his throat, forces his hope back down and presses what he wishes he could say into Ryan's head, lips hard and deciding. He says, "I'll wait," putting his palm in Ryan's and squeezing softly, I promise.
I won't let go of your hand
Ryan looks up, slow and shy and Brendon brushes back his hair, careful of his makeup and smiles softly. He presses his lips to the corner of Ryan's mouth, envious of the pretty birds flying free from the opposite side and lets his eyes fall closed and just feel the warmth of Ryan's breath when his lips part slightly, opening for Brendon but not yet the world.
----
Two birds of a feather
"Mmm, c'mere," Ryan murmurs, pressing a smirk down into the pillow beneath his head. Brendon presses his own smirk into the dip in Ryan's back and crawls up Ryan's lazy body slowly, kissing licking sucking on each patch of skin that touches his lips and when he reaches the joint of Ryan's neck and shoulder, he lingers, lying flat against Ryan's back, hips aligned and familiar. Ryan groans as Brendon's half-hard cock tempts him as it digs into the top of his ass and Brendon rolls his hips slowly. "Tease," Ryan says playfully, nipping at Brendon's bottom lip when Brendon turns his neck to kiss him.
"I have no problem delivering," Brendon says darkly, one hand playing absently with the hair curling at the nape of Ryan's neck, as if it's distracting Ryan from the other hand Brendon is sliding down his side, slipping into the edge of his boxers.
"Fuck," Ryan says and he sounds breathless when Brendon's teeth scrape along the side of his neck. "You know we have to be up early in the morning."
"I'll make it worth your while," he sing songs and licks the shell of Ryan's ear.
Ryan groans, laughing softly and biting his lip because Brendon's breath is wet and sticky against his ear, delicious and so, so tempting. "Not tonight, B," he says, nudging his shoulder up slightly, nudging Brendon.
With a laugh shortened by impatience, but threaded with genuine humor, Brendon rolls off onto the mattress and says, "You're such an old man, Ross," and puts his palm flat in the dip between Ryan's shoulder blades. Ryan smiles with his eyes closed and adjusts the placement of his head onto Brendon's pillow, an apology. "You're going to regret denying me fifty years from now when you're old and decrepit and can't get it up anymore. Think about that."
Ryan chuckles, light and amused and everything Brendon loves. "What makes you think I'm going to put up with you for that long, huh?" The way his hand sneaks down and curls around Brendon's hip, soft and warm, it makes Ryan's sarcasm okay.
Brendon wiggles closer, presses his nose a few centimeters away from Ryan's and they stare at each other quietly, cross-eyed and fighting off goofy smiles. "Because you're stuck with me." Brendon's voice is hardly audible, but Ryan feels his breath ghost over his lips and he knows. "Forever," Brendon adds, rubbing their noses.
Say that they're always gonna stay together
And Ryan catches Brendon's lips, dry and warm and smooth, stretches them with his smile and whispers, "Sounds good to me."
----
But one's never going to let go of that wire
"I'm not going to jeopardize everything we have, Brendon! I'm not going to do it!"
"Not even for me?"
"Brendon, you know that's not -"
"No, don't- don't fuck with me like this anymore, Ryan." Brendon's voice cracks and Ryan's walls do the same. "I've spent three years trying to convince you to hold my fucking hand in public and you can't even give me that. You don't love me at all."
"Dammit, Brendon, don't talk like that." Ryan's hand slams into the wall next to Brendon's head, pinning him, hot, flustered breath clawing at Brendon's neck, his head bent low to Brendon's ear. Brendon trembles, with rage or hurt or fear, Ryan doesn't know but he's sure it's a nice blend of all three. His eyes are clenched closed and Ryan just wants to feel but they're in the bathroom at Pete's bar, door locked and alone and Brendon had said no when Ryan had picked Brendon up, wrapped his legs around his waist and said Please.
"I don't want this anymore," Brendon says and his neck is stiff, unwavering under Ryan's breath and this isn't normal. This is different and uncomfortable and Ryan puts his head on Brendon's shoulder, surrendering. "I want you but not this. I don't want you like this, Ryan."
"I know," Ryan says because that's all he can say. "I know and I'm sorry."
Brendon swallows and Ryan is grateful for the small hand Brendon wraps around Ryan's wrist, braced hard and tight against the tile of the wall. Brendon's hand is shaking. "I love you," Brendon says and he means it and that's what hurts, what makes Ryan's jaw clench and what makes his stomach twist. "I love you and I'll never stop but... I can't do this."
Ryan's mouth is dry dry dry. "I love you, too."
He says that he will
But he's just...
"You're a liar, Ryan," Brendon says, staring at the ceiling to keep the tears from spilling over. He blinks and one slips but it's manageable. "You don't even know who you are."
Ryan's breath catches softly and he shakes his head, agreeing. Brendon's neck is exposed and long and Ryan presses his face into his temple and his voice is broken but tense, eyes glossy and blurred, "I'm supposed to be with you."
Brendon nods, whispers, "Yeah," and it sounds painful, like it cuts his chest on the way out. Ryan shudders a breath, presses his lips hard into the side of Brendon's head and his spine twitches, weak. "Yeah," Brendon repeats, a hint of a grimace in the way his cheeks pull to the side, "But not right now."
Something sharp hits Ryan's heart, the ache easing dull and slow when Brendon's body stirs and he stands upright, their bodies pressing together warm and solid. Brendon turns his head and kisses the crease of Ryan's elbow, fingers now loose on Ryan's wrist. Ryan feels the burn, the sinking heat in Brendon's lips and when Brendon ducks under his arm, walks to the door and lingers, he looks at Ryan with a small, watery smile.
Two birds on a wire
One tries to fly away and the other...
Ryan watches him go.