Only Each Other's Because The Day Is Long-Part One

[signsonaves]

Master Post

Ryan scuffed his heels against the pavement while he waited for Spencer to get out of summer classes. He understood why Spencer had wanted to take them, and yeah, it would be helpful for the band if he were done with school sooner, but did they have to take up so much time?

“Is there a reason why you didn’t just wait in the car?” Spencer asked, sitting down next to Ryan on the curb.

Ryan shrugged. Spencer laughed, just a little, and leaned over and kissed Ryan quickly before pulling back.

“Hi,” he said, cheeks a little red.

“Hi yourself,” Ryan said. Then he leaned over and kissed Spencer again, just a short brush of their lips. It was still thrilling. Ryan kind of couldn’t believe that he was allowed to do that now. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Always,” Spencer replied, standing and reaching a hand down to Ryan to pull him up.

“I thought we could maybe work on some of the songs this afternoon?”

“Sure,” Spencer said. Their clasped hands swung between them. “Should we drop by the Urie’s and pick up Brendon?”

“Nah,” Ryan said. “Brent can’t come and anyway, we’re practicing for awhile tomorrow. I don’t want his mom to get all pissy about how much time he’s spending with the band.”

“I guess we can just fuck around with the songs, then,” Spencer said, stopping by the car. Ryan tried to send his thoughts directly into Spencer’s mind. It didn’t appear to be working.

“Or we could just fuck around,” he said, voice coming out a little faster and breathier then he’d intended. Dammit. It would be so much easier to come off as cool and experienced if he didn’t have to actually say this stuff out loud.

“We could do that, too.” Ryan was gratified to hear that Spencer’s voice was a little higher than normal. At least it wasn’t only him. He grinned at Spencer. Spencer smiled back.

“So, uh, maybe we should get in the car now,” Spencer said, rapping on the car door with his knuckles.

“And get back to your house, yeah,” Ryan said. He opened the car door and folded himself into the seat. “Your mom said she was taking the twins shopping this afternoon. We’ve got some time.”

“Yeah?” Spencer said, getting into the passenger seat.

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “Whatever shall we do?”

“Gee, Ryan, I don’t know. I’m sure we’ll find some way to amuse ourselves.” Ryan caught Spencer’s eyes and they grinned at each other nervously.

“Okay, no, really, let’s go,” Spencer said. Ryan nodded and started the car up.

Spencer kept tapping his fingers against the side of the door. Ryan didn’t know if he realized, but he was drumming out the beat to “Camisado”. He smiled to himself. Spencer really had done a great job crafting his part. It was catchy, and Ryan knew that if he could just find a way to get their stuff out there, the band would really take off.

“What?” Spencer said.

“Nothing.” Ryan focused his eyes back on the road. Every so often-and usually at red lights, Ryan was a responsible driver-he would look over at Spencer and find him looking back. There was a heavy weight settling low in his stomach. He couldn’t tell if it was arousal or nerves or some unholy combination of both, and really, that was unfair. Fumbling nervousness was not sexy.

Spencer reached over and rested a hand deliberately on Ryan’s thigh. Ryan swallowed hard. His mouth was dry and he was pretty sure that this, right here? Not really nerves anymore. He stepped on the gas just a little bit more but slowed down again when they got into their neighborhood. Running over some little kid was a sure-fire way to kill the mood.

“Okay,” Ryan said, pulling into Spencer’s driveway and cutting the gas.

“My room?” Spencer suggested, swallowing. Ryan stared at his throat. He really needed to be kissing Spencer five minutes ago.

“Please,” Ryan said, biting his lip. Spencer had told him, late at night and turned away from Ryan in bed, that he thought that was really hot. He shouldn’t have told Ryan anything if he hadn’t wanted him to use it.

“Fuck,” Spencer said, and then they were both out of the car, racing up the stairs to Spencer’s room. Ryan slammed the bedroom door shut behind them.

They spent a few long moments just looking at each other before Spencer stepped forward and crowded Ryan back against the door, hands bracketing Ryan’s head. Ryan’s hands were sweaty from nervous anticipation. This was Spencer. It was hard to believe that he was doing this with Spencer. At the same time, though, it was Spencer, and there was no one Ryan wanted more.

“I think this is the part where you kiss me,” Ryan said. Spencer’s eyes were dark and Ryan could feel his erection against his thigh.

“You’re not some damsel in distress here, Ross. You could kiss me,” Spencer said, but he was already leaning into Ryan, bringing their mouths together clumsily. Ryan tilted his head to the right a bit, and they fell into an easy pattern, lips and tongues sliding, hands grasping at hair. Ryan let his head drop back when he had to breathe. Spencer kissed down his neck, sucking hard enough to bruise at Ryan’s pulse. He’d have bruises tomorrow, he knew. The Smiths would pretend not to notice and his dad would make jokes about girls. He didn’t care.

Ryan slid his hands up the back of Spencer’s shirt, tracing aimless patterns across the skin of his back. Spencer shuddered underneath his touch, and Ryan couldn’t resist. He leaned forward and caught Spencer’s mouth with his again.

“Shirts off,” Spencer said, breaking the kiss with a gasp. Ryan liked that he could do this to Spencer, liked that only he could do this to Spencer.

Ryan let Spencer pull his shirt off before grasping the hem of Spencer’s to help him. Spencer threw his shirt behind him and slid his hands around, pulling Ryan closer again. His hands were hot on Ryan’s skin. He kissed his way down, Spencer’s lips, his cheek, his neck. He spent a little extra time licking the indent where Spencer’s neck met his chest. Spencer’s head had dropped down to Ryan’s shoulder and Ryan could feel the vibrations as he whimpered.

“Spence,” he said, pausing. “Spence, can I, um.”

“Anything,” Spencer said. His voice was rough. Ryan lost his breath.

“Okay. I’m, I’m going to go down on you now?”

“Oh my god, please don’t let that be a question, Ryan,” Spencer said, hips jerking up towards Ryan like he couldn’t help it.

“Okay then,” Ryan said, and before he lost his courage he undid Spencer’s pants. “Can you, like, step out of your jeans?”

Spencer obediently kicked his pants off and across the room. Ryan dropped to his knees, breathing out against Spencer’s cock while he decided how to start. His stomach clenched- what if he did something wrong, and Spencer laughed, or worse, decided that Ryan wasn’t worth it?

“I’m not going to judge you here, Ryan,” Spencer said, laughing a little nervously. “No matter what you do it’ll totally be the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

“The only blowjob you’ve ever had,” Ryan said.

“That too,” Spencer said, and rested a hand on Ryan’s head. Ryan could tell that Spencer was trembling.

“I don’t exactly know what to do,” Ryan admitted, nipping a bit at the skin of Spencer’s thigh so he wasn’t just on his knees, staring at his best friend’s dick. This was all strange and new, and Ryan was a little scared.

“I know you’re no blushing virgin, Ryan.”

“It’s different,” Ryan said, indignantly. It was. He’d had blowjobs before but this was a distinctly different perspective, okay?

“Different because it’s with me?” Spencer asked, his voice kind of soft and shy.

“Different because I usually get blowjobs, not give them,” Ryan said. Then he nodded once and forced himself to be a man about this and suck it up.

Ryan licked his lips once before taking Spencer into his mouth. So he knew that teeth were bad. Other than that he guessed he could kind of just move his mouth, maybe, and use one of his hands to help out. Ryan remembered that some of the girls he’d been with had done stuff with their tongues, but he wasn’t quite sure how. He tried experimentally swirling his around the head of Spencer’s cock. Spencer groaned, and Ryan tried it again.

Spencer was breathing heavily and his hand had clenched tight in Ryan’s hair. Ryan liked the way that felt- this would all be so much easier if Spencer would just guide him a bit.

“God, Ryan, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to, you know, actually suck,” Spencer said a little hoarsely. Ryan took it back. Spencer could just shut up, lie back and enjoy his blowjob. But he figured if he wanted Spencer to return the favor anytime soon, he’d better make it good, so he hollowed his cheeks and sucked.

Spencer moaned and his hips twitched forward, choking Ryan just a little bit. He didn’t really mind but Spencer was pulling back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Spencer said, and then he was coming, hitting Ryan across his cheek and mouth. Ryan blinked a few times before darting his tongue out. It didn’t exactly taste like candy, but it wasn’t horrible either.

“Oh god,” Spencer said. “Ryan, Ryan, you are so hot.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Ryan said. He reached around behind him until he came up with Spencer’s shirt to wipe the come off of his face. It was Spencer’s, anyway, so he couldn’t really complain.

“Your mom approves,” Spencer replied before he and Ryan both grimaced.

“Oh man,” Ryan said, “please, please don’t ever bring up my mom while we’re having sex, not ever again. Not even as a joke, please.”

“Technically we’re not doing anything right now,” Spencer said, but Ryan could see from the way he shrugged his shoulders that he agreed.

“Technically you haven’t gotten me off yet so we’re not finished,” Ryan pointed out. He would have kept complaining, probably, except Spencer had dropped to his knees beside Ryan and was pushing him down until he was lying on the floor. And shit, that was Spencer’s hand on his dick, jerking him off rough and fast, just how he liked it.

Ryan tried to muffle his cries and hold back but it was over embarrassingly quickly, Ryan shooting hard against his own stomach. Spencer flopped down to lie next to him. Ryan used Spencer’s shirt to clean up again- it was already dirty.

“How-” Ryan began.

“We’ve slept in the same room for years, the same bed some of the time. I know how you jerk off,” Spencer said. He was trying to be matter of fact, Ryan could tell, but his blush gave it away.

“Spencer,” Ryan said, “Spencer, are you telling me that all these years, you’ve laid awake and listened while I was jerking off?”

Thinking about it made Ryan’s breath catch. He’d always secretly hoped that Spencer was still awake. That Spencer was listening or watching or paying attention to Ryan in any way. More often than he liked to admit, it had been thinking about Spencer watching him that pushed Ryan over the edge, biting his lip and trying desperately to stay quiet.

“It was hard to miss,” Spencer replied tartly. “You’re kind of loud.”

“Yeah, but you know how I do it. You must have been paying an awful lot of attention to me,” Ryan said, grinning. Maybe he could get Spencer to indulge his voyeurism and watch while he jerked off some time.

“Fuck off,” Spencer said, and stuck his middle finger in Ryan’s face.

“Next time,” Ryan said.

“Um. Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” Ryan said. “Can we nap now or something?”

“Yeah. Bed?” Spencer suggested.

“Nah.” Ryan didn’t really want to move. Spencer was pretty comfortable, and Ryan’s muscles were all loose.

“Okay,” Spencer said. He tugged Ryan a little closer, carded his fingers through his hair.

They laid there in comfortable silence.

“Hey, Spence?” Ryan asked, idly tracing patterns on the skin of Spencer’s stomach.

“Yeah?” Spencer spoke into Ryan’s hair.

“I really think we can make it.”

“Well, duh,” Spencer said after a moment. “We’ve known each other forever. Of course we’re gonna make it.”

“Not that, though us too. The band, I mean.”

“Oh,” Spencer said. “Yeah.”

“I mean, we’re getting good, you know? People are listening to us, they like our stuff. And Brendon, we’re so lucky we found Brendon.”

“Yeah,” Spencer said. Ryan turned his face into Spencer’s shoulder.

“Will you… When we’re famous, Spence, will you still...”

“Will I still what, Ryan?”

“Will you still want me?” Outside, a car horn beeped, once, twice. A door slammed and the kid across the street yelled something inaudible.

“Ryan,” Spencer said. He sounded annoyed, but not mad.

“Well, will you?”

“I’m always going to want you. I can’t imagine ever not wanting you,” Spencer said. Ryan smiled. “You’re my best friend, you know? No matter what.”

“Even when there are, like, a billion scene girls throwing themselves at you?” Ryan can feel the weave of Spencer’s carpet pressing into his back, leaving marks indented in his skin.

“That’s more your thing than mine,” Spencer said.

“Even when I’m kind of an ass?” Ryan asked. He knew he could be, sometimes.

“I’ve been putting up with you and your moods for as long as I can remember, Ross. I think I can handle it.”

“Good,” Ryan said. Sometimes he was afraid that there was going to come a day when he would snap, say something that he didn’t mean like his mother, or do something he didn’t mean like his father. And he was afraid that after, he’d come back to his senses and Spencer would be gone, too.

“Good,” Spencer echoed.

“I’m glad, you know,” Ryan said. “That you’re. In the band, and everything else.”

“I know,” Spencer said. “I’m glad that you’re my everything else, too. Now shut up and let’s nap before my mom gets home, okay?”

“I thought we said no more bringing up moms,” Ryan said. He smirked and thought Spencer could probably hear it in his voice even if he couldn’t see it.

“Well, my mom is hot,” Spencer said

“No argument from me,” Ryan said suggestively.

“Oh god. You broke your own rule. Ryan, no, ugh, you totally just lost the game. Can we sleep now, please?”

Ryan laughed, a high, carefree sound, and closed his eyes. They were going somewhere, Ryan and Spencer and Brendon and Brent. They were going to get the hell out of Summerlin, be famous, spend all their time playing music and hanging out and being best friends.

*

Ryan pursed his lips and tapped his foot. Brendon was late, again. Their practice space was expensive and they didn’t have all that much time. They were sharing the space with other bands and it was hard enough to work out blocks of time that fit into all of their schedules.

“Sorry, sorry,” Brendon called out, sliding back the door. He was out of breath, panting and red in the face.

“Where have you been?” Ryan demanded. “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”

“We had this church thing, sorry. I didn’t know it was going to go so long,” Brendon said.

“You’ve got church things a lot,” Ryan said. “And what’s it even going to do? The band’s what’s important, okay? If you’re not committed, we need to know.”

“I’m committed, Ross,” Brendon said, voice tight. “It’s not as easy for me as it is for you. I’ve got to go to church stuff or my parents won’t let me be in the band at all.”

“Fuck your parents,” Ryan said. “They’re just like everyone else around here, stuck in fucking Vegas. What do they know about getting out? We’re going to be something, Brendon, we are.”

“We know, Ry,” Spencer said. “But until then we’ve got to play by Vegas rules, okay? It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t. It’s just, they’re my parents,” Brendon said, shrugging helplessly. “I’ll try not to be late to another practice. Can we just play?”

Ryan sighed huffily and slung his guitar strap over his head. “Fine. Let’s do this. Camisado from the top?”

Spencer counted them off. Ryan came in half a beat too early, Brendon a beat too late, Brent not at all.

“Sorry,” Brent said. “I didn’t realize you guys were done bitching each other out yet.”

“Again?” Spencer asked, raising his sticks.

“Not yet,” Ryan said. Brendon was slumped over, shoulders turned in. “Brendon, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” Brendon said, not looking up.

“No, Brendon, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, getting up from his kit.

Brendon mumbled something.

“Sorry?” Ryan said, straining to hear.

“My parents want me to quit the band,” Brendon said.

“What?” Ryan said.

“I’m sorry, man,” Brent said.

“What are you going to do?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t know,” Brendon said, turning to face Spencer. “I don’t know.”

“What did they say?” Ryan asked impatiently. “You told them no, right?”

“Ryan!” Spencer said.

“What?” Ryan asked. It was important.

“They said that they didn’t like how it was taking up so much time. That I wasn’t engaged in church like I used to be, that my grades were dropping.”

“Well, sing louder next Sunday,” Ryan said.

“It’s not that simple,” Brendon said. “They want me to start planning for my mission and getting more involved. It would take up a lot of time, a lot of practice time.”

“You can’t do that then,” Ryan said, mind racing. Maybe if they offered to play at Brendon’s church again, or maybe if the Smiths talked to his parents?

“Ryan,” Spencer said sharply. “What are you thinking, Brendon?”

“I don’t… I don’t even know,” Brendon said miserably. “It was all the usual as long as you’re living under my roof stuff, but they sounded serious.”

“How serious?” Spencer asked, crossing the room to lay a hand on Brendon’s arm.

“Really serious. Like, I think they might actually kick me out if I don’t start cleaning up my act or whatever.” Ryan couldn’t believe it.

“They’re not going to kick you out,” Ryan said.

“How do you know?” Brendon asked.

“Because. Your parents have put up with you for this long, they’re not going to get rid of you now,” he said. Also, that would be really fucking cruel of the universe, dangling possibilities before their eyes like that and just taking them away.

“How are you feeling, Brendon?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t know. I guess, we’ll wait and see, right? I mean, they haven’t really given me an ultimatum or anything yet. Just making noises about it, so maybe I’m worrying for nothing.”

“Maybe,” Spencer said. “I bet it’ll all work out.”

“It will,” Ryan said. “And, Brendon, you know you can always call, right? Like, we’re friends, you know?”

“Thanks,” Brendon said, smiling a little.

“Okay then,” Spencer said. “Think we can run this through one more time?”

“Sure thing,” Brendon said, sounding a bit more like his normal self. “Count us off, little drummer boy.”

Spencer raised his sticks, and they all came in on time.

*

“Spence?” Ryan said, leaning over Spencer’s bed and tapping his shoulder. It was a hot August night, dry and oppressive. Even the air conditioning wasn’t doing much, and Ryan and Spencer had just looked at each other in semi-horror as they got ready for bed. Ryan loved Spencer, really he did, but Spencer’s bed was still a twin and body heat was body heat. Ryan didn’t even understand how Spencer could fall asleep in this kind of weather.

“Spencer?” Ryan shook Spencer, just a little. “Come on, wake up.”

“What?” Spencer mumbled, flailing at Ryan.

“What if Brendon’s parents do make him choose?”

“You woke me up to talk about this?” Spencer asked grumpily.

“I can’t sleep,” Ryan said. “It’s hot and this is what’s on my mind.”

“What time is it?” Spencer fumbled for the glowing digital clock on his night stand. It had actually been a present from Ryan years ago and Ryan still cringed when he thought of it. He’d gotten the clock from one of his aunts for his birthday, sent a few months early. He couldn’t get his dad to take him to the mall to shop for Spencer and on the day of his party, had panicked and done the only thing he could think of. He’d wrapped the stupid clock and brought it over, even though he knew Spencer knew that it was a regift. Spencer had smiled when he’d opened it, though, and kept diligently replacing the batteries year after year.

“Ryan, it’s nearly four in the morning. Are you saying you haven’t slept at all yet?” Despite the irritation, Spencer sounded concerned. Ryan shrugged.

“Okay, okay, fine. What’s bothering you?”

“What if Brendon chooses them?” Ryan worried the inside of his lip anxiously.

“That would suck, but we’d deal with it. And Ryan, you can’t be mad at him if he makes that choice, okay?”

“He made a commitment to the band,” Ryan said stubbornly.

“Dude. They’re his parents,” Spencer said. “Come here, there’s no point in worrying about it until it happens, okay?”

“It’s too hot,” Ryan complained, but he was already sliding in to the space on the bed Spencer was vacating for him. It was too hot, especially in the space where Spencer’s body heat had already warmed the sheets, but Ryan could already feel himself starting to drift off.

“Sleep,” Spencer told him.

“Thanks,” Ryan said, closing his eyes. “And, um, I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Spencer said. “I’m your boyfriend, you’re supposed to. Next time don’t wait so long. We can get you some ice or something to cool you down before you spend the entire night worrying yourself into a frenzy.”

Ryan murmured his assent as he drifted into sleep.

*

“Hey,” Spencer said in Ryan’s ear. “Ryan, wake up.”

“You just told me to go to sleep,” Ryan complained, keeping his eyes tightly shut.

“That was at four. It’s like, ten now. And Brendon’s downstairs.”

“What’s he want? We don’t have practice today, do we?” Ryan asked, pushing himself up.

“I don’t know. He’s upset though. Mom’s downstairs with him now making small talk. But Ryan, he refused pancakes.” Spencer looked worried.

“Is it about the band?” Ryan asked. He felt like he was going to throw up, just a little. Life always did this to him. He should probably have come to expect it, but this time they seemed so close. “Spence?”

“I don’t know, Ryan. But don’t be too hard on Brendon, whatever it is, okay?” Ryan rolled his eyes but Spencer didn’t see- he’d turned around and was rummaging through his dresser. Spencer tossed him a pair of pants. “Let’s go.”

“Fine,” Ryan said, pulling on the jeans. He followed Spencer down the stairs.

“Hey Mom,” Spencer said, poking his head into the kitchen. “We’re going to grab Brendon and sit outside, okay?”

“That’s fine,” Mrs. Smith said, turning from where she was flipping pancakes on the stove. “Hi, Ryan.”

“Hi, Mrs. Smith,” Ryan said. “Brendon.”

Brendon got up from where he was sitting at the kitchen table and wordlessly followed them outside. They had been sitting on the Smith’s front porch for a few minutes before Spencer finally asked, “What’s up, Brendon?”

Brendon clasped his hands tightly in his lap and looked down. “I’ve got to quit the band,” he said.

“You can’t,” Ryan said automatically.

“I’m sorry.” Brendon sounded choked, like he was on the verge of tears. “I don’t have a choice anymore.”

“There’s always a choice,” Ryan said. If it wasn’t entirely counterproductive, he’d say I told you so to himself.

“Ryan,” Spencer said warningly, cupping a hand under his elbow.

“There is,” he said. “Can’t you talk to your parents? Or have the Smiths do it.”

“I can’t,” Brendon said again. “They found the lyrics to Lying, Ryan. I have to quit the band and I’m grounded for the next century. I’ll be lucky if I get a few free minutes to run outside and get the mail.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s not like you wrote the lyrics,” Ryan said. “It’s not like you’ve even had sex.”

“I know, and I tried, but my parents don’t really care about creative visions or artistic integrity or whatever. They’re not going to let me get up in front of anyone and sing about that, Ryan. They’re not,” Brendon said in one breath. No wonder he was such a good singer, if he had that kind of breath control. Ryan thought he might be panicking a little, and maybe Brendon was too.

“It’s okay, Brendon,” Spencer said. He sent a quelling look in Ryan’s direction. “We understand.”

“What?” Ryan said. “We do not understand, okay? Why can’t you sneak out? It’ll be easier once the school year starts, so we just have to last until then. It’s only what, two more weeks at most?”

“Dude, Ryan, I can’t,” Brendon said. “I want to, but I just can’t. They said if they caught me putting so much as a toe out of line I could pack my bags.”

Well, he could solve one problem, at least. “The Smiths will totally take you in, Brendon, seriously. They’re awesome. And my scholarship covers a dorm room for next semester. We can work this out, no problem.”

Spencer hit him on the arm. “Ow, what?” Ryan said, turning to glare at him. “It’s not a problem-we can find Brendon a place to stay.”

“Not a problem?” Brendon said incredulously. “Ryan, they’re my parents and they’re going to kick me out! I don’t care who else will take me in, they’re my parents.”

“Well, they’re being unreasonable.”

“They’re still his parents,” Spencer interjected. Brendon looked at Spencer gratefully. Ryan glowered. “Brendon, it’s fine. Go home, stay out of trouble, and hopefully your parents will let up soon.”

“What if they don’t?” Ryan demanded.

“I don’t think they will,” Brendon said at the same time.

“Then we’ll work it out, Brendon. You know there’s always a place for you in the band. It’s okay.”

“Spencer,” Ryan hissed, “Spencer, this is not okay. We need Brendon.”

“I’m sorry,” Brendon said again. “I really am. Listen, I’ve got to go. My parents don’t even know I’m here. They think I’m sulking in my room while they’re at some community thing. I’m sorry.”

He stood and bounced in front of them, looking like a nervous animal about to flee.

“Go,” Spencer said and waved a hand at Brendon.

Brendon took off.

“Let us know what’s going on,” Spencer called after him.

“If I can,” Brendon yelled over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ryan, I’m really sorry.”

Ryan didn’t reply, choosing instead to pick at the threads coming loose in his Converse sneakers. He couldn’t believe- they’d just had this conversation last night. What the fuck? Spencer had agreed the band was going somewhere.

“Well,” Spencer said, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of Ryan’s neck, “looks like we start again, huh?”

“It’s not that easy,” Ryan said. “I’m going home. I can’t even talk to you right now.”

“What?” Spencer said. “Ryan, come on.”

“No,” Ryan said. “I can’t do this now.”

“Fine,” Spencer said shortly. “At least call me later, though.”

“Fine,” Ryan echoed. He got up and started walking stiffly across the Smith’s lawn.

“Ryan,” Spencer called after him. He stopped. “If… If things are bad. Don’t be stupid-come back here. We don’t have to talk, okay? Just come back.”

Ryan nodded once, stiffly, before continuing towards his house.

*

Ryan stared at his phone. He didn’t really want to call Spencer yet. He was still mad, and hurt, and feeling a little betrayed. So there was probably nothing they could have done to make Brendon stay with the band. Spencer could have tried.

Or, at the very least, he could have not actively taken Brendon’s side, sabotaging Ryan’s attempts to keep the band together. That shit was not on. Spencer knew how much the band meant to Ryan, and it was really only since Brendon had come that they’d gotten their act together. Ryan knew that his lyrics were good and that the music was good, too, but Brendon’s voice had been that thing, the key. Ryan’s voice wasn’t as suited to the music. He knew it. And it hurt to admit but Brendon’s musical knowledge had been really useful in reworking the songs. Even if they could find another guitarist, he wouldn’t have Brendon’s voice and almost certainly not his musical background. Or they could find a vocalist who couldn’t play nearly as well, or maybe someone who could do all three but didn’t fit their style.

It was luck more than anything that brought them together. Sometimes Ryan liked to stare at the stars and imagine that he could will things into being with the power of his mind. Certainly his determination helped. But the universe had to work for you, too, and Ryan wasn’t naïve enough to believe that the universe would deliver twice in a row, or that Brendon would come back now that he was gone. People didn’t come back after they’d left.

Panic was over. He groaned and rolled over, pulling a pillow over his head. He just couldn’t face it yet. He couldn’t.

His phone buzzed. Ryan checked the display- Spencer. It buzzed again. He debated letting it go to voicemail, but he knew Spencer would keep calling.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, asshole. I’m outside. Why didn’t you call?”

Ryan rolled off his bed and dropped to the floor. He moved over to the window. Sure enough, Spencer was standing on the grass. Ryan could tell from his posture- tense, arms crossed- that he was probably scowling, though it was too dark to see for certain. The light from his cell phone screen cast strange shadows across his cheek.

“Ryan, don’t be an idiot. Either come outside or come downstairs to let me in.”

“I don’t want to do this right now,” he said.

“Do what, Ryan?” Spencer asked. His hands were on his hips now.

“Fight with you. I’m still in mourning.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The band,” Ryan said. “It’s over, Spencer.”

“We can find another singer.”

“No, we can’t. Not like Brendon. It’s over and you didn’t even help me fight for it.”

“For the love of- just come down,” Spencer said. Ryan could see him snapping his phone shut, the glow from the screen dying in a few seconds. He turned away and went to meet Spencer.

“We can’t replace Brendon and you know it,” Ryan said, opening the back door. Spencer was waiting, standing with his hands in his pockets.

“We can,” Spencer said. “There are other singers, other guitarists. We still have the same music. And who can say that he won’t come back, anyway?”

“People were listening to us for Brendon’s voice, Spencer. For my lyrics, too, but for Brendon,” Ryan said.

“What do you want me to say, Ryan? That you’re right, that we’ve got no future with the band?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan said, folding in on himself. “I just want you to act like you care.”

“I do care,” Spencer said. “Ryan, you know I care.”

“It didn’t seem like it,” Ryan said. “Just, you didn’t have to support me, but would it have killed you at least not to take sides?”

“I don’t have a side. I’m the one trying to come up with a solution.” Spencer sounded exasperated.

“There wouldn’t need to be a solution if Brendon had stayed,” Ryan argued. “You chose him. You chose to support him, not me, and now he’s gone.”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer said. “You can’t ask that of him. You can’t expect that of him.”

“I thought you guys cared about this as much as I did,” Ryan said, running his hands through his hair.

“We do,” Spencer said. His tone was coaxing, condescending. Ryan hated it. “But there are other things to care about, too. It’s his family.”

“You don’t care about it as much as I do,” Ryan said, nearly yelling. “If you really cared, you would have asked him to stay, okay, because it’s not even your family. And maybe, maybe the band’s not important enough for you. That’s fine. I get it. I just thought I was important enough.”

“Oh please,” Spencer said, snapping. “You’re important, okay? I care about you. That has nothing to do with Brendon.”

“It does,” Ryan insisted. “I told you how important this was to me, and then you turned around and it was like you didn’t care about what I was saying at all. Like you didn’t care about me.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Spencer said. “You’re not listening at all! I don’t know why I bother sometimes, but Ryan, this really wasn’t about you.”

“The band is me, Spence. It’s all I have.”

“It’s not all you have,” Spencer said and his voice was low, wavering. “You have me.”

“I feel like I don’t,” Ryan said, turning away. He knew he was being a little unfair, but he couldn’t help it-it was how he felt.

“That’s crap.”

“Fine,” Ryan said.

“Just because we disagree doesn’t mean you don’t still have me,” Spencer said.

“Fine,” Ryan repeated.

Spencer sighed. “Ryan. Ryan, come on. I know you’re upset, alright?”

“If you’re going to patronize me, you can just go home, Spencer.”

“I’m trying to help,” Spencer said, shuffling a little closer to Ryan.

“You’ve helped enough.” Ryan’s voice cut through the night with ugly tones, dissonance against a backdrop of crickets. “I don’t need any more of your help.”

“Ryan.” Spencer reached out a hand, hesitantly touching Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan shrugged away. “Don’t be melodramatic. Ryan, I believe in you. You’ll work it out.”

“I worked it out with Brendon. We were working out,” Ryan said, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. “Why don’t you just go, Spencer? You can leave me to my melodrama, and go home to your nice happy family. You and Brendon didn’t need this like I did. I don’t have anything else. The only things left in Vegas for me are boredom and loneliness.”

“Alright. Alright, I’m going,” Spencer said.

“Good,” Ryan said. “I don’t need you here. I don’t need any of you. I’ll make it out of Vegas on my own.”

“Fine. If that’s how you really feel, Ryan. If it really is-if I’m not…” Spencer swallowed. “If I’m not enough for you, then maybe we should break up so you can find someone who is.”

Ryan’s heart stopped and started again, bouncing off of his ribs painfully. If that was what Spencer wanted, Ryan wouldn’t hold him back. And he certainly wouldn’t be the fool clinging onto someone who didn’t want him back. “Maybe we should.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said, backing away.

“Yeah, well, I’m not,” Ryan said, bitterly. “I’m glad this happened now, before we really started anything, before it would really hurt.”

“Okay,” Spencer said. “Okay then. I’m going to go now, I guess.”

“You do that,” Ryan said. He turned to go back into the house so Spencer wouldn’t see how close he was to crying. When he got up to his room again and looked out the window, Spencer was gone.

*

Ryan dragged his feet as he walked towards his house. In retrospect, he should have taken the car, but he hadn’t wanted to wake his dad. He understood that Kelly really had no reason to even give him a place to crash for the night, let alone drive him home. He was just saying it would maybe have been nice if she’d at least offered, even if she hadn’t meant it. She didn’t have to kick him out right after he woke up without even asking if he had a way to get home.

When he got closer, he could see that Spencer was sitting on his front porch, foot tapping impatiently on the step. He was scowling.

“What are you doing here?” Ryan asked roughly when he reached his house.

“I think the better question would be, where were you?” Spencer asked, standing.

“Why does it matter to you anymore?” Ryan tried to push past him to get into the house, but Spencer grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop.

“I want you to find someone else, someone who can give you the relationship you need,” Spencer said, “but I didn’t say you weren’t still my best friend.”

“Right,” Ryan said. “Thanks a lot.”

“Where were you?” Spencer’s grip tightened, just a little bit, just enough so that Ryan could feel it.

“I stayed over at Kelly’s,” Ryan said.

“Kelly’s,” Spencer repeated.

“Yeah,” Ryan said, looking away. “Just like old times.”

“Fuck you,” Spencer said, dropping Ryan’s arm. “Fuck you, Ryan.”

“I thought that was the point, that you didn’t want to anymore.” He knew he could go into the house now, but he didn’t move.

“That’s not what I said. I told you, if things get bad, come over. I don’t care what goes down between us. Just come over.”

That was totally what he’d said. And Ryan didn’t want to be someplace he wasn’t wanted. That was the whole point of getting out of his house in the first place. “Thanks for the offer,” he said. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Spencer sighed. “Don’t be an idiot, Ryan, and don’t be a martyr.”

“I’m not a martyr,” Ryan protested. “And I don’t need you to save me.”

“You need someone,” Spencer said.

“Someone that isn’t you,” Ryan said, finishing that thought for Spencer. Spencer had said as much already last night. He didn’t have to rub it in.

“So you went to another one of your exes,” Spencer said, glaring. “Because that makes perfect sense.”

“I was fine last night,” Ryan said. “So what if I crash at Kelly’s? It’s no different than crashing at yours, not anymore.”

“That’s a lie.” Spencer sounded a bit uncertain, and Ryan pressed his advantage while he had it.

“I was fine,” Ryan repeated. So the situation hadn’t been ideal. He was still fine. “I didn’t need you then, Spencer, and I don’t need you now. So why don’t you just leave and let me get on with finding someone who isn’t a lying, cowardly traitor like you?”

Ryan knew even as he said it that he didn’t mean it, but feeling angry was better than feeling bitter, or upset, or needy. Abandoned.

“Alright,” Spencer said, taking a step down, and another. “Alright.”

Spencer was off of the porch and walking away. “Bye, Ryan.”

Ryan didn’t say anything. He turned and went inside, letting the screen door slam behind him. The echoes of the metal hitting the frame faded, but he imagined he could still feel the impact of it, reverberating in his lungs and making it just that much harder to breathe.

Part Two