Still Standing [ryan/brendon][s/a][part 2]
part 1
Brendon watches Greta spinning excitedly and can’t help that he’s beginning to get a little excited, too.
She links her arms with Bob and Darren and Chris exchange glances that only Brendon notices.
“We can’t go yet…” Darren says at first, running a hand through his hair, still trying to get out of the whole thing. Greta rolls her eyes, exasperated.
“I’m not saying we do,” she snaps back, crossing her legs. Bob is watching her warily, not really sharing her enthusiasm. “But there’s the fact that we have to get ready. Change. Darren, did you even bring you swim suit? …Bob?”
Bob shrugs and Darren just sighs again. “And we all have to go…?” Chris asks.
“Of course!”
Greta takes control of the situation, something Brendon has never really noticed her do before. She pushes all of the boys around and she and Amanda laugh and joke, already in the swimsuits with towels wrapped around their waists.
Ryan leans in towards Brendon, mumbling in his ear, “You think this is a good idea?”
Brendon shrugs, leaning against the cramped wall next to the bathroom - Spencer and Jon are currently inside changing (the bathroom can only hold roughly one and a half people, so Brendon’s not sure how they’re managing it) and it’s Brendon and Ryan’s turn next.
If Greta and Amanda weren’t just sitting on their stupid hotel bed gossiping, Brendon would just strip down now. But he still has some kind of decency.
“You wanna hang with Spence and Jon?” Ryan asks, trying to engage Brendon into some type of conversation. Before he can respond, Spencer pushes open the door and steps out, Jon a couple of seconds behind. Holding their swimming trunks Ryan and Brendon both slip inside the bathroom.
Brendon’s heart catches in his throat - maybe it’s stupid, but he’s never seen Ryan naked before.
And he still doesn’t know exactly what this whole adventure is about. Metaphorically, and even the whole beach thing.
Ryan doesn’t bat an eyelash at the thought that Brendon can see, pulling his v-neck over his head before Brendon has a time to turn around.
When he does, he finds himself facing the mirror.
He watches Ryan for a stunned moment, hastily yanking his too-tight jeans off of his skinny legs.
He then shakes his head and closes his eyes, following suit and stripping down, putting on the trunks. He stands up straight and opens his eyes and gazes into the mirror.
Ryan meets his eye through the glass and half smirks, stepping forward. Brendon’s heart leaps stupidly in his chest and his throat constricts, his face turns red.
Ryan wraps his arms around Brendon’s chest, pressing his bare chest to Brendon’s bare back. His hands splay over Brendon’s chest, his right hand over where his heart is, pressed tight and protective. Ryan breathes into Brendon’s neck, brushing his lips over the skin in a way that sends a thrill through Brendon’s spine.
“I…”
Silence. Just Brendon’s breathing - deep, trying to be composed, in and out.
“I love you.”
And then Ryan’s gone, slipping out the door and leaving it hanging open.
Brendon grabs his clothes and trips out after him.
--
“It’s fucking cold,” Ryan whines, rubbing the sand on his shoulders.
Brendon snickers. “You’re such a girl, come on, even if you’ve been living in Vegas your entire life…this is not cold. This is perfection.”
Ryan tilts his head and looks at Brendon. “You like the cooler weather, don’t you?”
Brendon shrugs, looking at his feet as they sink into the sand with each step. The waves lap gently at their skin. “I guess so. I like spring a lot. But I love all seasons…I don’t know. The cold is newer to me…you know?”
Ryan smiles. “Yeah, I do. I like it in Nevada, too.”
“Mmm.”
They’re both quiet now, Brendon watching as they walk in unison.
Finally, “What do you think Greta and Bob are doing?” Brendon asks as he looks out over the ocean to the sun melting into the horizon, streaking the skies in purples and pinks and oranges. He has to remind himself to breathe because of the beauty. He wishes he could do this all of the time.
“Probably skinny dipping. Isn’t that what Greta said she was going to force him to do?”
Brendon stays quiet for a moment, contemplating. “What about Darren and Chris?”
“Probably snuck back to the hotel. Who knows. They didn’t sound excited at all. But who cares about what the others are doing?” Ryan asks, looking directly at Brendon. “We’re here. Right now.”
Brendon sighs and suddenly he feels the chill as well. A breeze against his damp arms makes him shiver and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“Is there something I should know? Something you should tell me?” Brendon murmurs as they continue their trek down the beach.
“Hm? What do you…” Ryan trails off and bites his lip. “I don’t know.”
Brendon laughs dryly. “What do you want us to be, Ryan? You can’t just say…what you said and then pretend like it didn’t happen. Because it did.”
Ryan swallows audibly. “I know,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. “I…I don’t want to apologize but I feel like I should. But I’m not. I’m not sorry, Brendon. Not for any of that. Not for kissing you when I was confused. And not for hugging you. And not for making you uncomfortable and saying I loved you and then darting away.”
Brendon looks at Ryan, only a couple of inches away. “You know, I love you, too,” Brendon murmurs, smiling.
“Yeah, but are you in love with me? Huge difference, you know.”
Brendon contemplates again, then nods. “You’re right,” he allows. “But I don’t know. Not now. Not yet. I care about you a lot. But you’ve got me really confused now.”
“Audrey said she was your first time.”
Brendon stops walking. “E-excuse me?”
Ryan turns around a couple of feet in front of Brendon, grinning. “I overheard her and Jac talking. I don’t know if I was supposed to or not, but she was being pretty fucking loud. You were in the shower that time.”
Brendon blinks, bewildered. “We…”
“You can tell me the truth, bro.”
Brendon laughs at Ryan’s use of the word bro and Ryan steps closer to him, shoving him lightly in the chest. “We never had sex. She lied to you. Which…doesn’t really surprise me.”
Ryan does a double take. “…Really? Oh.”
Brendon pauses. “…Did you and Jac…?” he asks, but he refuses to finish the train of thought, hating the answer that could go along with it. It shouldn’t mean anything to him - it shouldn’t make a difference - because he had always figured that Ryan wasn’t a virgin. I mean, how could he be? With those eyes and that skin and just…Brendon couldn’t imagine it.
Yet, the thought that he had had sex with Jac was a huge turn off - especially since it had been after Ryan had kissed him. During all of that confusing.
Ryan looks down at his feet, pretty much confirming the answer. “Only once,” he confesses. “It was…” - he laughs - “awkward, to say the least. I’m sorry.”
“Dammit, Ryan, don’t apologize.”
Ryan grows quiet, falling back into step as they continue to walk down the shore. “Do you think we could follow the shoreline forever…?” Brendon asks.
“…I would follow it forever with you.”
Brendon laughs, honest. “That was just lame, Ross.”
“I know. But it was true.”
“…We should head back now. It’s getting really dark.”
Ryan slips his fingers in Brendon’s as Brendon speaks and presses their lips together. They both stop walking at the same time, Brendon sighing inwardly and letting his eyes flutter shut.
The kiss stays like that - the press of lips, just a tiny bit of pressure but none that it’s forced. The two breathe carefully and silently, hands held tight.
“We should go back to the hotel,” Brendon repeats when they part, looking into Ryan’s eyes, searching for anything.
“Yeah,” Ryan agrees, twisting his body so that they’re heading the opposite direction. “We should.”
--
“Ryan?”
Dream peaks into the hotel room, holding her key between two fingers. She glances around and then prowls inside a little more, calling out quietly, “Brendon? Jon? Spencer?”
It then occurs to her that the water in the bathroom is running. She blinks at the door and then approaches, lifting her hand to knock, until she hears something. It’s kind of muffled, and immediately she thinks someone is getting beaten or killed. Which is odd, because who would kill someone in a hotel bathroom?
She blushes with a sudden realization that the sound is not someone groaning in pain.
She pivots and grabs the handle to the hotel room, planning on scurrying away embarrassed, until something else catches her ear.
Her face gets hotter, because there’s more than one person in the bathroom (in the shower, she adds in her head), and she hates it because she recognizes the tones of both of the voices. One more high pitched, almost whiny, the second lower, but needier.
Blushing furiously, Dream yanks the door open and begins to hurry down the hall, almost running into Jon and Spencer, both in their swim trunks and smelling like chlorine.
“Oh, hey…” Spencer begins, his hair dripping water to the floor. He frowns when he sees Dream’s expression. “Um, are you okay?”
“Don’t go in Brendon and Ryan’s hotel room. That is all.”
“Uh. Why?” Jon asks as Dream tries to push past them.
“They’re, uhm…busy! Yeah, busy. Just…heed my warning!” She points, beginning to sound hysterical, then, shaking her head, continues down the hallway.
Once she disappears, Jon and Spencer, both frowning, look at each other. “What the hell did she see…?” Spencer asks, and then when he sees the horror on Jon’s face, his own face falls. “Oh, ew, ew, ew, ew. Jon, that’s…that’s just weird!” Spencer says in a hushed voice, glancing at the room which belongs to Ryan and Brendon. “Wow…shit. I…”
“Sorry, bro.”
“D-don’t apologize.”
“…You’re okay with your best friends…?”
“Yeah, that’s not the issue. It’s just…I guess I’m worried about them?” Spencer runs a hand through his damp hair and frowns. “Once I get over the initial shock, I think I’ll just be scared for their feelings.”
“Jesus, Spencer, you are such a girl.”
Spencer shrugs.
--
And it goes like that - it doesn’t seem to be RyanandSpencer anymore, but RyanandBrendon. And maybe this makes Spencer a little sad, a little confused. But he’s happy - so happy - for his best friend since he was five finally really smiling like there’s something to live for. He hasn’t looked this happy in…well, Spencer can’t put his tongue on a date.
And even Brendon looks happier than he ever has.
They’ve scheduled to go on a second headlining tour in the fall, coined Nothing Rhymes With Circus, but before that they’re scheduled to perform at the MTV Video Music Awards.
They’re all kind of in shock about it - being nominated at all is a complete honor that makes them all kind of giddy, and being there, actually performing in front of God knows how many people who have probably never even heard of them, that’s amazing.
They make it extravagant - they hire dancers to wear obnoxious dresses and they give Brendon a top hat that could rival Honest Abe’s.
“Are you nervous?”
Brendon looks at Ryan and grins, flashing white teeth and then taking a drink from his bottle of water. “Of course I am.”
Ryan frowns. “You don’t look nervous,” he mumbles, wringing his fingers.
“Do I ever?” Brendon asks, again smiling. “Come on, it’s going to be fantastic. Come on, let’s play a game.”
Ryan quirks an eyebrow at Brendon. “A game…?” he asks, becoming suspicious.
Brendon laughs. “Your dirty mind,” he chastises. “Which dancer is the prettiest?”
Ryan sputters. “What kind of game is this? Picking the hottest chick? Excuse me?”
Brendon frowns. “What?” he asks incredulously. “Mmm…I can’t decide.”
Ryan glances at the girls sitting on the other side of the backstage room. The one he notices first has short chopped blonde hair and a big smile, and she’s helping one of the other girls put on mascara and eyeliner.
He tries to remember her name. “Uh…Kelly.”
Brendon laughs. “The blonde with the short hair?” Brendon asks.
“Mm. Yeah.”
“That’s Keltie.”
Ryan shrugs. “Since when were you good at names…?” he asks.
“Since I agree - she is really hot.”
Again, Ryan sputters. “Jesus, Brendon, you say some of the stupidest things.”
Brendon smiles. “Yeah.”
--
“Wasn’t she your favorite…?”
“Wasn’t who my favorite?”
“Keltie. The dancer. The one who danced with us at the VMAs?”
“The blonde who wore extensions? Yeah. She was a real sweetie…why?”
Ryan pauses for a moment. “I like her. A lot.”
Brendon smiles. “That’s good. She your friend now? I remember you were so shy around her night of the VMAs. Around all of the dancers, but you refused to talk to her, just kept looking at her. Bet she thought you were a creeper. Did she change her mind?”
“…Yeah, she changed her mind. You could say that.”
“Ryan, what’s wrong?”
Ryan leans on Brendon’s shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist and tugging him close on the tiny couch on the bus. “You know how…I still liked you when I was dating Jac? And you still liked me when you were dating Audrey?”
“…Yeah? So?”
“So it’s kind of like…like that. I…asked her out.”
“…Keltie?”
“Keltie.”
“Oh.”
“Is that okay?”
Brendon doesn’t know what else to say, so he just manages a small, “Yeah.”
And from then on he has to pretend like it’s the truth. He smiles a tiny smile when Keltie kisses Ryan’s cheek. When she’s on the bus with them, when she hangs out with Cassie and Haley.
And maybe, maybe in a way he kind of falls in love with her. Not in the same way he’s in love with Ryan - it doesn’t include the lusting, the need to kiss and hold. But he wants to pull her into his arms and twirl her around and tell her she’s perfect.
He doesn’t get it because she’s not Ryan, and she’s Ryan’s girlfriend and not his. He shouldn’t feel anything but friendship towards her, but he’s getting so confused. Because he doesn’t want to kiss her, he just wants to hold her and protect her.
He thinks he feels a kind of fatherly affection for her. Because she makes Ryan so fucking happy, in a way he knows he never could.
But still, sometimes he’s jealous of her. Jealous that she gets to hold him in public. Jealous that she gets to kiss him and no one will raise an eyebrow. Jealous because she’s not aware. She doesn’t know that sometimes Ryan links his hand with Brendon’s, that sometimes when she’s not there he sneaks into Brendon’s bunk and kisses his neck and then jerks him off slowly. She doesn’t know about the way they still conserve water on certain hotel nights when Jon and Spencer go out for a drink.
She doesn’t know, but Brendon knows. Brendon knows that sometimes Ryan sneaks out of his bunk to meet her. Know that Ryan spent New Years with her at some nice hotel while Brendon lay alone and looked at the ceiling.
He’s jealous of her ignorance - because it’s not her fault. She has every excuse not to know.
But then he realizes she probably already knows.
Keltie’s not stupid. She would notice the way he looks into Brendon’s eyes sometimes, wouldn’t she? She would notice that some nights he’s with her and some he’s not. She would notice if he was in love with someone else, wouldn’t she? But then, maybe Ryan lied, maybe Ryan was never in love with Brendon, not after he met Keltie. Maybe that all changed.
And maybe that hurts Brendon even more. Maybe that’s why, during the whole tour, Brendon makes himself sound more desperate, more pathetic. Maybe that’s why he sings dirty lyrics on his knees, touching Ryan’s thigh and pulling him close. Maybe the hurt is what makes Brendon barely, just barely brush their lips together, maybe it’s what makes him swing himself around the stage and play the piano and treat it like a medical emergency.
Maybe that’s why every time he and Ryan have sex he cries, just a little. Sometimes more than others. Sometimes he thinks Ryan sees it, the tears before he manages to rub them away, but he never says anything, never does anything. And Brendon doesn’t know if this is because Ryan would rather pretend, or because Ryan just doesn’t care.
But Brendon can never make himself hate her. Not her smile, not the way she twirls herself and not the way she puts passion into everything.
He can’t hate her because he is her.
And maybe Brendon accepts her and Ryan’s relationship (because now it’s become RyanandKeltie and she’s everywhere, almost always by his side) because they are so fucking alike. They both wear too big, nerd glasses. They both make the worst jokes. They’re both too affectionate, they’re both too sweet and they’ve both so, so in love with Ryan. They both keep tripping up and eventually, Brendon doesn’t understand how Ryan can handle both of them.
But Keltie changes him.
Keltie makes him smile so much. Makes him write music filled with hope and love. Ryan says they changed their style because sad music doesn’t surprise people anymore. He falls in love with The Beatles (something else he and Keltie share, something Brendon really doesn’t, not anymore) and writes songs about falling in love and the sun and the moon and sometimes Brendon can’t differentiate.
“Who’s who?” Brendon asks one night, Ryan’s head in his lap on the Honda Civic tour bus, only a month after Pretty. Odd. was released.
Ryan peers up at Brendon. “What d’you mean…?” he asks sleepily.
“I mean in all of your songs. Keltie or me?”
Ryan frowns. “Both of you,” he mutters, not looking at Brendon anymore, but at the ceiling. “I don’t know. You’d have to name a specific song.”
“Northern Downpour.”
After a soft moment of hesitation, “Keltie.”
“Pas de Cheval.”
“You.”
“When The Day Met The Night?”
“…Keltie,” again.
“Mad as Rabbits.”
“All of us. It’s not a romantic love song. Just a love, love song.”
“Who’s reinventing love?”
“Us. You. Me. Spencer. Jon. Keltie, if you want.”
“She Had The World.”
“Neither. You. Spencer.”
“Which one?”
“It sounds like it’s about a girl, right? On basics. But it’s not. The sea. That’s about you. Blue eyes? Those are Spencer’s. I don’t know.”
“Behind The Sea?”
“You. Always you.”
“Why?”
“Because the thing that reminds me of you most of all, is the ocean. I wanted to sing in that song because of you. And you have a watermelon smile.”
Brendon laughs softly. “Do I?”
“Always the biggest smile.”
Brendon hums his appreciation. “Thank you.”
“Any other questions?”
Still smiling, Brendon asks, “She’s A Handsome Woman?”
“You. I dreamt of you.”
“Huh?”
“Reverie. Dreams. Thoughts. Ideals. If all our life is but a dream…”
“But Northern Downpour is Keltie’s. Isn’t it? Isn’t it like…just hers?”
“But yours, too.”
“How is it mine…?” He sounds confused now.
“Have you ever wondered about that? Every one of the songs I write…that we write…is yours. You are my voice, Brendon, no matter how cliché that sounds. Like Patrick is Pete’s, you are mine. And I’m glad your mine. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Brendon laces his fingers in Ryan’s and leans down, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. “I’m glad. Me neither,” he agrees, a whisper, a ghost of breath against Ryan’s mouth. “Never any other way.”
--
Brendon really likes Z. She’s one of the girls (well, one of Ryan’s friends in general) that Brendon likes a lot. She’s got a big mouth and a hot head and sometimes she honestly looks like a skank, but she’s got a total air of honesty and she never once lies to Ryan to try to make him feel better. Brendon appreciates that more than she will ever know.
Brendon really likes Alex, too, though sometimes he feels jealousy - different jealousy than he feels towards Keltie. Jealousy that he would have thought Spencer would be more prone to feeling, because it seems like Alex is taking over as Ryan’s best friend.
Ryan assures him this isn’t true.
Brendon believes him.
--
“What do you think the third album will sound like?”
Jon plays a couple of notes on his base, an arpeggio and then looks around at the other three band members, all silent. “Any ideas?”
“Well, are we going to start writing? What are we going to do?”
“We released an album this year. Can’t we wait for next year to do it?”
Jon laughs. “Come on, Ryan, buck up.”
Ryan frowns. “I don’t want to do anything…just not now.”
--
In February, Ryan fucks up.
“You were cheating on her?”
“I was cheating on her.”
“And I found this out via her blog?”
Ryan murmurs something that Brendon can’t hear.
“Oh, fuck off, Ryan, just muttering like you’re some kind of shy bastard. What the fuck were you thinking? What the fuck are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I…I can’t do this. Everyone said she’d break your heart. That you would be the poor one. That she would hurt you - and then you do this to her? Fuck, Ryan, what…”
“Am I going to lose you, too?”
Brendon looks him right in the eye. “I think you are, Ryan. Yeah. You’re losing me. Right now. Because, you know, you’ve been cheating on both of us for two years. I’m sick of it. Sick of not having you. I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work. It’s worse than the band. And you know the band isn’t going to work, either. And I’m sorry that you screwed yourself over. I’m sorry you told her things and they turned out to be lies. Me, too.”
Brendon takes a deep breath. “Good luck, Ryan. Good luck.”
Brendon leaves Ryan alone in a house he now wishes he didn’t even have. A house with too many memories.
--
They’ve already made plans to go to Africa, though, and just because Ryan and Brendon are going through an awkward patch doesn’t mean they cancel. They go, and it’s strange and uncomfortable. Jon and Spencer treat it like they would any other trip - they try to get Ryan and Brendon to participate, to act normal for the sake of themselves, but it’s hard when they refuse to meet each other’s eyes.
--
Brendon is sitting outside on the balcony, staring at the sun setting. Africa is beautiful.
The door slides open and he looks up, regretting it immediately when he sees that Ryan’s the one sliding the glass back in place.
He doesn’t say anything, looking back over the balcony.
Ryan sits down on one of the wooden chairs and crosses his legs.
For a couple of long moments, they sit together, the only audible sound the birds twittering and Ryan’s quiet breathing.
“You were right.”
Brendon doesn’t look up.
“I was wrong.”
He twitches in his seat.
“I always am. You always are.”
Ryan smiles softly. “But…here comes the sun.”
Brendon shakes his head, finally showing some kind of response. “You’re wrong. The sun’s setting.”
“But the sun’ll come back tomorrow.”
Brendon looks up, meets Ryan’s gaze, soft and a little broken, a tiny smile of his chapped lips. Brendon swallows, feeling the swelling, a side affect of tears blurring his vision. “Fuck,” he whispers, his hands fisting. “Fuck, Ryan, why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Great excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse,” Ryan whispers. “I fucked up. I know that. Does that mean I can’t…try to make up for it?”
Brendon looks down at his hand. “Every day…people fuck up,” he whispers.
“And every day people forgive them,” Ryan replies.
“It’s…it’s too late, Ryan. Ryan, it’s just…time’s up for us. We can’t keep this up. You’re going that way, and I’m going this way. We won’t cross again. We’ve changed so much.”
Ryan leans back against the chair, and it creaks under his weight. “Really? Because some people…they don’t ever change.”
“Stop talking in riddles. Fuck, Ryan, it hurt, you know? It hurt to think that you were…just…” - he cuts off, choking on a dry sob - “that you didn’t find me enough. All of this time.”
Ryan stands and sits next to Brendon, enveloping him in his arms. A role reversal. “That’s what I always thought,” he confesses into Brendon’s hair as Brendon clings to his t-shirt. “That I wasn’t enough. That I couldn’t make you happy. That someday you would leave me. But I needed you so much…I was in a desperate place and then…Keltie was just like you, but in a different body, with a different passion and a bit of a different smile. She was soft and happy and yet so, so broken on the inside. And so…I flaunted myself to her. I promised her the world and then the sky and the stars when they weren’t mine to promise.” Ryan puts his hands on the sides of Brendon’s face, lifting him to connect their eyes. “They were always yours. My sky. My stars. When I look at them - you. Always you. I dream of you. Even now. I lay on the floor and close my eyes and there are you, on the lids of my eyes, like you’ve been pressed permanently into my mind…and I can’t. I can’t do it without you.”
They breathe for a moment. Brendon smiles through his tears. “We could be anything,” he says, and he rubs his thumb along Ryan’s chin. “You ran away, because that’s what you always do. Only because you’re afraid of losing. And that’s…understandable. And if I could be anything…it’d be you.”
Ryan initiates the kiss.
It tastes like infinity.
Because they have the entire world around them, but they can only hold a little at a time. Because breaking someone’s heart is just another way of saying ‘I need you’.
“Don’t speak,” Ryan says when Brendon opens his mouth after the kiss. Brendon smiles again.
“I love it when you do that,” he admits. “When you tell me not to speak.”
Ryan laughs. “But you don’t listen.”
“Make me.”
Another kiss. Longer. Tasting like salt water tears, bleeding from both of their eyes. Mouths that are used to telling lies spilling into each other.
It’s stupid how much they trust each other - how they need each other so desperately. But they do.
They part and neither of them speak, Brendon curling himself up against Ryan’s side and pressing a soft kiss to his neck. They both look over the balcony again, viewing the same sun as it bleeds into the sky. The lights are neon, each color melding into the next. “Beautiful,” Ryan breathes, and Brendon smiles again.
“And so are you,” he whispers into his ear. “And I will never give up on you if you never give up on you.”
“Are you asking me to make you a promise?” Ryan asks quietly, his lips warm on Brendon’s cheek.
“No. Make yourself a promise. Maybe you’ll keep it.”
“…I promise.”
Brendon watches Greta spinning excitedly and can’t help that he’s beginning to get a little excited, too.
She links her arms with Bob and Darren and Chris exchange glances that only Brendon notices.
“We can’t go yet…” Darren says at first, running a hand through his hair, still trying to get out of the whole thing. Greta rolls her eyes, exasperated.
“I’m not saying we do,” she snaps back, crossing her legs. Bob is watching her warily, not really sharing her enthusiasm. “But there’s the fact that we have to get ready. Change. Darren, did you even bring you swim suit? …Bob?”
Bob shrugs and Darren just sighs again. “And we all have to go…?” Chris asks.
“Of course!”
Greta takes control of the situation, something Brendon has never really noticed her do before. She pushes all of the boys around and she and Amanda laugh and joke, already in the swimsuits with towels wrapped around their waists.
Ryan leans in towards Brendon, mumbling in his ear, “You think this is a good idea?”
Brendon shrugs, leaning against the cramped wall next to the bathroom - Spencer and Jon are currently inside changing (the bathroom can only hold roughly one and a half people, so Brendon’s not sure how they’re managing it) and it’s Brendon and Ryan’s turn next.
If Greta and Amanda weren’t just sitting on their stupid hotel bed gossiping, Brendon would just strip down now. But he still has some kind of decency.
“You wanna hang with Spence and Jon?” Ryan asks, trying to engage Brendon into some type of conversation. Before he can respond, Spencer pushes open the door and steps out, Jon a couple of seconds behind. Holding their swimming trunks Ryan and Brendon both slip inside the bathroom.
Brendon’s heart catches in his throat - maybe it’s stupid, but he’s never seen Ryan naked before.
And he still doesn’t know exactly what this whole adventure is about. Metaphorically, and even the whole beach thing.
Ryan doesn’t bat an eyelash at the thought that Brendon can see, pulling his v-neck over his head before Brendon has a time to turn around.
When he does, he finds himself facing the mirror.
He watches Ryan for a stunned moment, hastily yanking his too-tight jeans off of his skinny legs.
He then shakes his head and closes his eyes, following suit and stripping down, putting on the trunks. He stands up straight and opens his eyes and gazes into the mirror.
Ryan meets his eye through the glass and half smirks, stepping forward. Brendon’s heart leaps stupidly in his chest and his throat constricts, his face turns red.
Ryan wraps his arms around Brendon’s chest, pressing his bare chest to Brendon’s bare back. His hands splay over Brendon’s chest, his right hand over where his heart is, pressed tight and protective. Ryan breathes into Brendon’s neck, brushing his lips over the skin in a way that sends a thrill through Brendon’s spine.
“I…”
Silence. Just Brendon’s breathing - deep, trying to be composed, in and out.
“I love you.”
And then Ryan’s gone, slipping out the door and leaving it hanging open.
Brendon grabs his clothes and trips out after him.
--
“It’s fucking cold,” Ryan whines, rubbing the sand on his shoulders.
Brendon snickers. “You’re such a girl, come on, even if you’ve been living in Vegas your entire life…this is not cold. This is perfection.”
Ryan tilts his head and looks at Brendon. “You like the cooler weather, don’t you?”
Brendon shrugs, looking at his feet as they sink into the sand with each step. The waves lap gently at their skin. “I guess so. I like spring a lot. But I love all seasons…I don’t know. The cold is newer to me…you know?”
Ryan smiles. “Yeah, I do. I like it in Nevada, too.”
“Mmm.”
They’re both quiet now, Brendon watching as they walk in unison.
Finally, “What do you think Greta and Bob are doing?” Brendon asks as he looks out over the ocean to the sun melting into the horizon, streaking the skies in purples and pinks and oranges. He has to remind himself to breathe because of the beauty. He wishes he could do this all of the time.
“Probably skinny dipping. Isn’t that what Greta said she was going to force him to do?”
Brendon stays quiet for a moment, contemplating. “What about Darren and Chris?”
“Probably snuck back to the hotel. Who knows. They didn’t sound excited at all. But who cares about what the others are doing?” Ryan asks, looking directly at Brendon. “We’re here. Right now.”
Brendon sighs and suddenly he feels the chill as well. A breeze against his damp arms makes him shiver and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“Is there something I should know? Something you should tell me?” Brendon murmurs as they continue their trek down the beach.
“Hm? What do you…” Ryan trails off and bites his lip. “I don’t know.”
Brendon laughs dryly. “What do you want us to be, Ryan? You can’t just say…what you said and then pretend like it didn’t happen. Because it did.”
Ryan swallows audibly. “I know,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. “I…I don’t want to apologize but I feel like I should. But I’m not. I’m not sorry, Brendon. Not for any of that. Not for kissing you when I was confused. And not for hugging you. And not for making you uncomfortable and saying I loved you and then darting away.”
Brendon looks at Ryan, only a couple of inches away. “You know, I love you, too,” Brendon murmurs, smiling.
“Yeah, but are you in love with me? Huge difference, you know.”
Brendon contemplates again, then nods. “You’re right,” he allows. “But I don’t know. Not now. Not yet. I care about you a lot. But you’ve got me really confused now.”
“Audrey said she was your first time.”
Brendon stops walking. “E-excuse me?”
Ryan turns around a couple of feet in front of Brendon, grinning. “I overheard her and Jac talking. I don’t know if I was supposed to or not, but she was being pretty fucking loud. You were in the shower that time.”
Brendon blinks, bewildered. “We…”
“You can tell me the truth, bro.”
Brendon laughs at Ryan’s use of the word bro and Ryan steps closer to him, shoving him lightly in the chest. “We never had sex. She lied to you. Which…doesn’t really surprise me.”
Ryan does a double take. “…Really? Oh.”
Brendon pauses. “…Did you and Jac…?” he asks, but he refuses to finish the train of thought, hating the answer that could go along with it. It shouldn’t mean anything to him - it shouldn’t make a difference - because he had always figured that Ryan wasn’t a virgin. I mean, how could he be? With those eyes and that skin and just…Brendon couldn’t imagine it.
Yet, the thought that he had had sex with Jac was a huge turn off - especially since it had been after Ryan had kissed him. During all of that confusing.
Ryan looks down at his feet, pretty much confirming the answer. “Only once,” he confesses. “It was…” - he laughs - “awkward, to say the least. I’m sorry.”
“Dammit, Ryan, don’t apologize.”
Ryan grows quiet, falling back into step as they continue to walk down the shore. “Do you think we could follow the shoreline forever…?” Brendon asks.
“…I would follow it forever with you.”
Brendon laughs, honest. “That was just lame, Ross.”
“I know. But it was true.”
“…We should head back now. It’s getting really dark.”
Ryan slips his fingers in Brendon’s as Brendon speaks and presses their lips together. They both stop walking at the same time, Brendon sighing inwardly and letting his eyes flutter shut.
The kiss stays like that - the press of lips, just a tiny bit of pressure but none that it’s forced. The two breathe carefully and silently, hands held tight.
“We should go back to the hotel,” Brendon repeats when they part, looking into Ryan’s eyes, searching for anything.
“Yeah,” Ryan agrees, twisting his body so that they’re heading the opposite direction. “We should.”
--
“Ryan?”
Dream peaks into the hotel room, holding her key between two fingers. She glances around and then prowls inside a little more, calling out quietly, “Brendon? Jon? Spencer?”
It then occurs to her that the water in the bathroom is running. She blinks at the door and then approaches, lifting her hand to knock, until she hears something. It’s kind of muffled, and immediately she thinks someone is getting beaten or killed. Which is odd, because who would kill someone in a hotel bathroom?
She blushes with a sudden realization that the sound is not someone groaning in pain.
She pivots and grabs the handle to the hotel room, planning on scurrying away embarrassed, until something else catches her ear.
Her face gets hotter, because there’s more than one person in the bathroom (in the shower, she adds in her head), and she hates it because she recognizes the tones of both of the voices. One more high pitched, almost whiny, the second lower, but needier.
Blushing furiously, Dream yanks the door open and begins to hurry down the hall, almost running into Jon and Spencer, both in their swim trunks and smelling like chlorine.
“Oh, hey…” Spencer begins, his hair dripping water to the floor. He frowns when he sees Dream’s expression. “Um, are you okay?”
“Don’t go in Brendon and Ryan’s hotel room. That is all.”
“Uh. Why?” Jon asks as Dream tries to push past them.
“They’re, uhm…busy! Yeah, busy. Just…heed my warning!” She points, beginning to sound hysterical, then, shaking her head, continues down the hallway.
Once she disappears, Jon and Spencer, both frowning, look at each other. “What the hell did she see…?” Spencer asks, and then when he sees the horror on Jon’s face, his own face falls. “Oh, ew, ew, ew, ew. Jon, that’s…that’s just weird!” Spencer says in a hushed voice, glancing at the room which belongs to Ryan and Brendon. “Wow…shit. I…”
“Sorry, bro.”
“D-don’t apologize.”
“…You’re okay with your best friends…?”
“Yeah, that’s not the issue. It’s just…I guess I’m worried about them?” Spencer runs a hand through his damp hair and frowns. “Once I get over the initial shock, I think I’ll just be scared for their feelings.”
“Jesus, Spencer, you are such a girl.”
Spencer shrugs.
--
And it goes like that - it doesn’t seem to be RyanandSpencer anymore, but RyanandBrendon. And maybe this makes Spencer a little sad, a little confused. But he’s happy - so happy - for his best friend since he was five finally really smiling like there’s something to live for. He hasn’t looked this happy in…well, Spencer can’t put his tongue on a date.
And even Brendon looks happier than he ever has.
They’ve scheduled to go on a second headlining tour in the fall, coined Nothing Rhymes With Circus, but before that they’re scheduled to perform at the MTV Video Music Awards.
They’re all kind of in shock about it - being nominated at all is a complete honor that makes them all kind of giddy, and being there, actually performing in front of God knows how many people who have probably never even heard of them, that’s amazing.
They make it extravagant - they hire dancers to wear obnoxious dresses and they give Brendon a top hat that could rival Honest Abe’s.
“Are you nervous?”
Brendon looks at Ryan and grins, flashing white teeth and then taking a drink from his bottle of water. “Of course I am.”
Ryan frowns. “You don’t look nervous,” he mumbles, wringing his fingers.
“Do I ever?” Brendon asks, again smiling. “Come on, it’s going to be fantastic. Come on, let’s play a game.”
Ryan quirks an eyebrow at Brendon. “A game…?” he asks, becoming suspicious.
Brendon laughs. “Your dirty mind,” he chastises. “Which dancer is the prettiest?”
Ryan sputters. “What kind of game is this? Picking the hottest chick? Excuse me?”
Brendon frowns. “What?” he asks incredulously. “Mmm…I can’t decide.”
Ryan glances at the girls sitting on the other side of the backstage room. The one he notices first has short chopped blonde hair and a big smile, and she’s helping one of the other girls put on mascara and eyeliner.
He tries to remember her name. “Uh…Kelly.”
Brendon laughs. “The blonde with the short hair?” Brendon asks.
“Mm. Yeah.”
“That’s Keltie.”
Ryan shrugs. “Since when were you good at names…?” he asks.
“Since I agree - she is really hot.”
Again, Ryan sputters. “Jesus, Brendon, you say some of the stupidest things.”
Brendon smiles. “Yeah.”
--
“Wasn’t she your favorite…?”
“Wasn’t who my favorite?”
“Keltie. The dancer. The one who danced with us at the VMAs?”
“The blonde who wore extensions? Yeah. She was a real sweetie…why?”
Ryan pauses for a moment. “I like her. A lot.”
Brendon smiles. “That’s good. She your friend now? I remember you were so shy around her night of the VMAs. Around all of the dancers, but you refused to talk to her, just kept looking at her. Bet she thought you were a creeper. Did she change her mind?”
“…Yeah, she changed her mind. You could say that.”
“Ryan, what’s wrong?”
Ryan leans on Brendon’s shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist and tugging him close on the tiny couch on the bus. “You know how…I still liked you when I was dating Jac? And you still liked me when you were dating Audrey?”
“…Yeah? So?”
“So it’s kind of like…like that. I…asked her out.”
“…Keltie?”
“Keltie.”
“Oh.”
“Is that okay?”
Brendon doesn’t know what else to say, so he just manages a small, “Yeah.”
And from then on he has to pretend like it’s the truth. He smiles a tiny smile when Keltie kisses Ryan’s cheek. When she’s on the bus with them, when she hangs out with Cassie and Haley.
And maybe, maybe in a way he kind of falls in love with her. Not in the same way he’s in love with Ryan - it doesn’t include the lusting, the need to kiss and hold. But he wants to pull her into his arms and twirl her around and tell her she’s perfect.
He doesn’t get it because she’s not Ryan, and she’s Ryan’s girlfriend and not his. He shouldn’t feel anything but friendship towards her, but he’s getting so confused. Because he doesn’t want to kiss her, he just wants to hold her and protect her.
He thinks he feels a kind of fatherly affection for her. Because she makes Ryan so fucking happy, in a way he knows he never could.
But still, sometimes he’s jealous of her. Jealous that she gets to hold him in public. Jealous that she gets to kiss him and no one will raise an eyebrow. Jealous because she’s not aware. She doesn’t know that sometimes Ryan links his hand with Brendon’s, that sometimes when she’s not there he sneaks into Brendon’s bunk and kisses his neck and then jerks him off slowly. She doesn’t know about the way they still conserve water on certain hotel nights when Jon and Spencer go out for a drink.
She doesn’t know, but Brendon knows. Brendon knows that sometimes Ryan sneaks out of his bunk to meet her. Know that Ryan spent New Years with her at some nice hotel while Brendon lay alone and looked at the ceiling.
He’s jealous of her ignorance - because it’s not her fault. She has every excuse not to know.
But then he realizes she probably already knows.
Keltie’s not stupid. She would notice the way he looks into Brendon’s eyes sometimes, wouldn’t she? She would notice that some nights he’s with her and some he’s not. She would notice if he was in love with someone else, wouldn’t she? But then, maybe Ryan lied, maybe Ryan was never in love with Brendon, not after he met Keltie. Maybe that all changed.
And maybe that hurts Brendon even more. Maybe that’s why, during the whole tour, Brendon makes himself sound more desperate, more pathetic. Maybe that’s why he sings dirty lyrics on his knees, touching Ryan’s thigh and pulling him close. Maybe the hurt is what makes Brendon barely, just barely brush their lips together, maybe it’s what makes him swing himself around the stage and play the piano and treat it like a medical emergency.
Maybe that’s why every time he and Ryan have sex he cries, just a little. Sometimes more than others. Sometimes he thinks Ryan sees it, the tears before he manages to rub them away, but he never says anything, never does anything. And Brendon doesn’t know if this is because Ryan would rather pretend, or because Ryan just doesn’t care.
But Brendon can never make himself hate her. Not her smile, not the way she twirls herself and not the way she puts passion into everything.
He can’t hate her because he is her.
And maybe Brendon accepts her and Ryan’s relationship (because now it’s become RyanandKeltie and she’s everywhere, almost always by his side) because they are so fucking alike. They both wear too big, nerd glasses. They both make the worst jokes. They’re both too affectionate, they’re both too sweet and they’ve both so, so in love with Ryan. They both keep tripping up and eventually, Brendon doesn’t understand how Ryan can handle both of them.
But Keltie changes him.
Keltie makes him smile so much. Makes him write music filled with hope and love. Ryan says they changed their style because sad music doesn’t surprise people anymore. He falls in love with The Beatles (something else he and Keltie share, something Brendon really doesn’t, not anymore) and writes songs about falling in love and the sun and the moon and sometimes Brendon can’t differentiate.
“Who’s who?” Brendon asks one night, Ryan’s head in his lap on the Honda Civic tour bus, only a month after Pretty. Odd. was released.
Ryan peers up at Brendon. “What d’you mean…?” he asks sleepily.
“I mean in all of your songs. Keltie or me?”
Ryan frowns. “Both of you,” he mutters, not looking at Brendon anymore, but at the ceiling. “I don’t know. You’d have to name a specific song.”
“Northern Downpour.”
After a soft moment of hesitation, “Keltie.”
“Pas de Cheval.”
“You.”
“When The Day Met The Night?”
“…Keltie,” again.
“Mad as Rabbits.”
“All of us. It’s not a romantic love song. Just a love, love song.”
“Who’s reinventing love?”
“Us. You. Me. Spencer. Jon. Keltie, if you want.”
“She Had The World.”
“Neither. You. Spencer.”
“Which one?”
“It sounds like it’s about a girl, right? On basics. But it’s not. The sea. That’s about you. Blue eyes? Those are Spencer’s. I don’t know.”
“Behind The Sea?”
“You. Always you.”
“Why?”
“Because the thing that reminds me of you most of all, is the ocean. I wanted to sing in that song because of you. And you have a watermelon smile.”
Brendon laughs softly. “Do I?”
“Always the biggest smile.”
Brendon hums his appreciation. “Thank you.”
“Any other questions?”
Still smiling, Brendon asks, “She’s A Handsome Woman?”
“You. I dreamt of you.”
“Huh?”
“Reverie. Dreams. Thoughts. Ideals. If all our life is but a dream…”
“But Northern Downpour is Keltie’s. Isn’t it? Isn’t it like…just hers?”
“But yours, too.”
“How is it mine…?” He sounds confused now.
“Have you ever wondered about that? Every one of the songs I write…that we write…is yours. You are my voice, Brendon, no matter how cliché that sounds. Like Patrick is Pete’s, you are mine. And I’m glad your mine. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Brendon laces his fingers in Ryan’s and leans down, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. “I’m glad. Me neither,” he agrees, a whisper, a ghost of breath against Ryan’s mouth. “Never any other way.”
--
Brendon really likes Z. She’s one of the girls (well, one of Ryan’s friends in general) that Brendon likes a lot. She’s got a big mouth and a hot head and sometimes she honestly looks like a skank, but she’s got a total air of honesty and she never once lies to Ryan to try to make him feel better. Brendon appreciates that more than she will ever know.
Brendon really likes Alex, too, though sometimes he feels jealousy - different jealousy than he feels towards Keltie. Jealousy that he would have thought Spencer would be more prone to feeling, because it seems like Alex is taking over as Ryan’s best friend.
Ryan assures him this isn’t true.
Brendon believes him.
--
“What do you think the third album will sound like?”
Jon plays a couple of notes on his base, an arpeggio and then looks around at the other three band members, all silent. “Any ideas?”
“Well, are we going to start writing? What are we going to do?”
“We released an album this year. Can’t we wait for next year to do it?”
Jon laughs. “Come on, Ryan, buck up.”
Ryan frowns. “I don’t want to do anything…just not now.”
--
In February, Ryan fucks up.
“You were cheating on her?”
“I was cheating on her.”
“And I found this out via her blog?”
Ryan murmurs something that Brendon can’t hear.
“Oh, fuck off, Ryan, just muttering like you’re some kind of shy bastard. What the fuck were you thinking? What the fuck are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I…I can’t do this. Everyone said she’d break your heart. That you would be the poor one. That she would hurt you - and then you do this to her? Fuck, Ryan, what…”
“Am I going to lose you, too?”
Brendon looks him right in the eye. “I think you are, Ryan. Yeah. You’re losing me. Right now. Because, you know, you’ve been cheating on both of us for two years. I’m sick of it. Sick of not having you. I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work. It’s worse than the band. And you know the band isn’t going to work, either. And I’m sorry that you screwed yourself over. I’m sorry you told her things and they turned out to be lies. Me, too.”
Brendon takes a deep breath. “Good luck, Ryan. Good luck.”
Brendon leaves Ryan alone in a house he now wishes he didn’t even have. A house with too many memories.
--
They’ve already made plans to go to Africa, though, and just because Ryan and Brendon are going through an awkward patch doesn’t mean they cancel. They go, and it’s strange and uncomfortable. Jon and Spencer treat it like they would any other trip - they try to get Ryan and Brendon to participate, to act normal for the sake of themselves, but it’s hard when they refuse to meet each other’s eyes.
--
Brendon is sitting outside on the balcony, staring at the sun setting. Africa is beautiful.
The door slides open and he looks up, regretting it immediately when he sees that Ryan’s the one sliding the glass back in place.
He doesn’t say anything, looking back over the balcony.
Ryan sits down on one of the wooden chairs and crosses his legs.
For a couple of long moments, they sit together, the only audible sound the birds twittering and Ryan’s quiet breathing.
“You were right.”
Brendon doesn’t look up.
“I was wrong.”
He twitches in his seat.
“I always am. You always are.”
Ryan smiles softly. “But…here comes the sun.”
Brendon shakes his head, finally showing some kind of response. “You’re wrong. The sun’s setting.”
“But the sun’ll come back tomorrow.”
Brendon looks up, meets Ryan’s gaze, soft and a little broken, a tiny smile of his chapped lips. Brendon swallows, feeling the swelling, a side affect of tears blurring his vision. “Fuck,” he whispers, his hands fisting. “Fuck, Ryan, why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Great excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse,” Ryan whispers. “I fucked up. I know that. Does that mean I can’t…try to make up for it?”
Brendon looks down at his hand. “Every day…people fuck up,” he whispers.
“And every day people forgive them,” Ryan replies.
“It’s…it’s too late, Ryan. Ryan, it’s just…time’s up for us. We can’t keep this up. You’re going that way, and I’m going this way. We won’t cross again. We’ve changed so much.”
Ryan leans back against the chair, and it creaks under his weight. “Really? Because some people…they don’t ever change.”
“Stop talking in riddles. Fuck, Ryan, it hurt, you know? It hurt to think that you were…just…” - he cuts off, choking on a dry sob - “that you didn’t find me enough. All of this time.”
Ryan stands and sits next to Brendon, enveloping him in his arms. A role reversal. “That’s what I always thought,” he confesses into Brendon’s hair as Brendon clings to his t-shirt. “That I wasn’t enough. That I couldn’t make you happy. That someday you would leave me. But I needed you so much…I was in a desperate place and then…Keltie was just like you, but in a different body, with a different passion and a bit of a different smile. She was soft and happy and yet so, so broken on the inside. And so…I flaunted myself to her. I promised her the world and then the sky and the stars when they weren’t mine to promise.” Ryan puts his hands on the sides of Brendon’s face, lifting him to connect their eyes. “They were always yours. My sky. My stars. When I look at them - you. Always you. I dream of you. Even now. I lay on the floor and close my eyes and there are you, on the lids of my eyes, like you’ve been pressed permanently into my mind…and I can’t. I can’t do it without you.”
They breathe for a moment. Brendon smiles through his tears. “We could be anything,” he says, and he rubs his thumb along Ryan’s chin. “You ran away, because that’s what you always do. Only because you’re afraid of losing. And that’s…understandable. And if I could be anything…it’d be you.”
Ryan initiates the kiss.
It tastes like infinity.
Because they have the entire world around them, but they can only hold a little at a time. Because breaking someone’s heart is just another way of saying ‘I need you’.
“Don’t speak,” Ryan says when Brendon opens his mouth after the kiss. Brendon smiles again.
“I love it when you do that,” he admits. “When you tell me not to speak.”
Ryan laughs. “But you don’t listen.”
“Make me.”
Another kiss. Longer. Tasting like salt water tears, bleeding from both of their eyes. Mouths that are used to telling lies spilling into each other.
It’s stupid how much they trust each other - how they need each other so desperately. But they do.
They part and neither of them speak, Brendon curling himself up against Ryan’s side and pressing a soft kiss to his neck. They both look over the balcony again, viewing the same sun as it bleeds into the sky. The lights are neon, each color melding into the next. “Beautiful,” Ryan breathes, and Brendon smiles again.
“And so are you,” he whispers into his ear. “And I will never give up on you if you never give up on you.”
“Are you asking me to make you a promise?” Ryan asks quietly, his lips warm on Brendon’s cheek.
“No. Make yourself a promise. Maybe you’ll keep it.”
“…I promise.”