Get Off My Lawn! [Standalone]
Title: Get Off My Lawn!
Author: stfu_pwentzz
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
Rating: PG-13; for swearing
Summary: Ryan Ross promises never to be a cranky old man when he grows old. Well, he lied.
Disclaimer: This is an act of fiction. I don’t own any of the characters just the plot.
Author Notes: Beware, there is cranky old man Ryan Ross. I just wanted a fic where Ryan is an cranky old geezer who yells at people to get off his lawn
---
Years and years ago Ryan was a little afraid to go visit George Ross, his Grandpa. He was his dad's dad, but that didn't make it any better. His grandpa was mean, and scary, and he never had anything good to eat. It was always vegtables, and Ryan did not like vegtables.
But, his dad always came with him to visit, except the one time that he left Ryan on his grandpa's stoop, saying that he had to go to work.
Ryan gulped and he knew how long his dad worked. His dad worked all day, and he was supposed to stay there all day. Ryan wasn't stupid.
His dad's stupid "I won't be gone that long. You won't even miss me," speech. Ryan glared at him, as he took a step off his Grandpa's property.
Liar. He missed him already.
Ryan just sighed and wanted to have a good time with his Grandpa, which, of course, didn't happen. Fun and Grandpa's house were not mutually exclusive.
His grandpa didn't have a television, anything good to eat, and all he did was mumbled at the kids who walked all around his grass.
The only real sentence his grandpa spoke was "Get off my lawn! Young whippersnappers."
Ryan suddenly got quiet, and that was the maddest his grandpa ever got. He suddenly got why his father got cranky a lot.
Then he just went back to his rocking chair.
Ryan sat still the rest of the visit. He promised himself that he would never act like that when he was old. He would be the nicest old man around. Everyone would want to hang out at his house.
---
Ryan threw open the screen door and stumbled onto the porch to glare at his neighbor's kids playing duck duck goose on his lawn.
Or some ridiculous variation of the game which included tackling. He did not remember that part of the childhood game, but it still angered him.
"Hey!" He turned his head to yell at his neighbor. "Martin, control your kids!"
Martin, Ryan's next door neighbor, just gave Ryan a wave and continued talking to his wife.
Ryan glared at him, and decided he had to settle this himself.
"Ryan, calm down. You'll give yourself a hernia," a voice consoled from inside the house.
Ryan groaned. "I'm fine, Bren. Keep making dinner."
He walked down the stairs, with his cane in tact. If his face, voice and words weren't enough to scare Martin's spawn, then his trusty cane would do the trick.
He walked over to the circle where the littlest one was pinned to the ground underneath his oldest brother.
The little boy beamed up at Ryan, with a toothless grin. Ryan couldn't be deterred from his mission though. "Hey Mister Ross. Do you want to play?"
Ryan clenched his dentures down and tried his best not to whack Timmy on the head with his cane.
"No, I do not want to play. I want you meddling kids to get off my lawn."
At first he was met with silence, and reveled in the victory. Then Timmy, his older brother Dan, and his friends all burst out laughing.
Dan got off of Timmy and nudged one of his friends. "See, I told you we have the funniest neighbor ever."
Ryan was not amused as his friends chuckled and talked about how lame their neighbors were. They never set foot outside or something. Ryan wasn't listening.
"Daniel and Timothy Martin, if you do not get off my lawn right this instant, I will--" he fizzled out because the first thing on his tongue is something he did not want to say to children, however annoying they were. His nephews were just over and playing some contraption and said "I will end you" He didn't think this was the time or place for this talk. "I will bring over extra beets and broccoli from my garden."
That had to do the trick. When Ryan was a kid, he hated vegtables. If that didn't scare him, the mean old man yelling would have.
Timmy's eyes lit up and he hopped on Dan's back. "Beets, Dan! Beets. You know how long I've been asking Mom to get some?"
Ryan felt himself deflate. He forgot the Martin's were weird vegetarian hippie sorts.
He looked back to his house. Brendon was sitting on the porch and he was smiling at him.
Ryan sighed. He was not going to regret this. "If you do not get off my lawn and go to your own house I will not, I repeat, will not give out any candy next week for Halloween."
Both Timmy and Dan's faces dropped.
Dan became immediately silent but Timmy started pouting and whining. "But, But. Mister Ross, you give out the best candy. You can't do that. Can he do that Danny? Can he?"
Ryan smirked a little on the inside. "I can, and I will if you don't leave in three," he trailed off and watched silently as he didn't even need to go past three for them to swarm away from his lawn as if it had cooties or something.
Ryan felt a victory dance was in order, but he settled to sit on the porch with Brendon. Brendon was his own victory dance, even after he passed fifty.
"Dinner's gonna be a while," Brendon told him. Ryan grunted in response. He didn't feel that needed a response so he felt a grunt was sufficient.
Ryan slowly staggered up the stairs and he felt Brendon's eyes on him.
"You're going to get a stroke one day." Brendon told him.
Ryan shrugged as he got in place in his rocking chair. "And you're going to have to feed me jell-o when that happens." He smiled at Brendon.
Brendon rolled his eyes and didn't answer, just kept rocking and staring off at their front lawn.
It was a nice neighborhood, with the exception of the annoying Martin's next door. They were always over Ryan and Brendon's house. It was like their day was not complete without ruining Ryan's day.
Brendon absolutely loved Timothy and Danny. Ryan wasn't surprised to find them always in the kitchen helping him make some cookies, or some pasta because "it's Ryan's favorite."
Ryan usually found himself outside more when the Martin kids were inside his house. His front yard needed a watchful eye any way. All those thefts. People stealing the grass right from your front yard.
"You know," Brendon finally said, looking at Ryan. "I don't know why they bother you so much. They were just playing a game and you had to go and ruin Halloween for them."
Ryan was exasperated, and Brendon didn't understand. It took Ryan years to fix up their front yard to look amazing. Brendon was more inside, and Ryan was more outside. Even if it take him ten years to find out how to grow grass the correct way. "My grass, Bren. They are going to ruin my grass," Ryan explained. It wasn't the first time they've gotten in this argument.
Brendon smiled secretly to himself. "Oh, I forgot. It has to be perfect when they steal our grass or they might take something else."
Ryan went to stand up, but his back shocked, and he just stayed where he was. "There are thieves, Brendon. I know you don't believe me, but I was just talking to Spencer last week--"
"Did he also tell you about the ninja's that stole his wife?"
Ryan narrowed his eyes, trying to lean back into his chair. "Not this time. And what does that have to do with anything?"
Brendon laughed again. "The man thinks ninja's stole his wife. He's not the most trustworthy source of theft."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "Wife's are easy to steal. Take you for instance. It wouldn't take much. Easier bait than kids."
Brendon's eyes challenged him. "I would not take the bait," he pointed out. Ryan smiled to himself that Brendon didn't not call him Ryan's wife.
That was a win on Ryan's behalf.
Ryan slowly turned his neck to look at Brendon straight on. "If the words were antique and harmonica, you would be gone in a flash. Or as fast as those legs could take you."
Brendon rolled his eyes and turned away from Ryan but he was smiling. Ryan was smiling too. It was a good evening.
Ryan reached over and held onto Brendon's hand. Ryan had an inkling that Brendon might not accept it, but was not totally surprised when he didn't deny it.
Ryan loved evenings like this. The neighborhood was quiet, just him and Bren, just staring at his flat grass.
Ryan jerked his hand out of Brendon's. "It's flat, Bren."
"Nope, I believe it was found out the Earth was round roughly four hundred years ago."
Ryan made a noise in the back of his throat. Always a smart ass comment with Brendon. It didnt' end fifty years ago, and it didn't end when they were retired. "The grass. They made my grass flat."
Brendon reached over and caressed the back of Ryan's hand. "Happiness is always in your backyard. And your 'backyard' is kind of flat, so you shouldn't be upset about that."
Ryan narrowed his eyes, but didn't remove his hand. "I'd rather have a flat 'backyard' than a saggy one."
Brendon hit Ryan's hand, but put no force behind it. They rocked back together just smiling stupid as they watched the sun pass over the houses across the street.
As soon as Ryan couldn't see the sun he got up from the chair. He got really anxious when it got too dark out. "It's getting late, Bren," Ryan told him, faking a yawn.
Brendon looked down at his watch. "It's six thirty."
Ryan nodded. "That's really late. I can't believe we're out this late. We could get mugged by Morman's, Bren. Mormans!"
Brendon sighed and got up with him. "I'm morman, you asshole."
Ryan shook his head as he led them inside the house. "That's exactly what Walker said, then he let some of those mormon's into his house and they robbed him blind."
Brendon stifled a laugh and Ryan knew he wanted to point out that Jon was kind of blind, and they were not mormon's but Jehovah's Witness'. But he just smiled and followed Ryan into the living room.
It was almost time for the seven o clock news and Ryan never missed a segment. Ryan sat down, and Brendon sat down next to him.
Brendon leaned into Ryan's side and Ryan turned to look at him. Brendon just smiled at him and bent his head to lay against his shoulder. "I made some cookies today," Ryan's mouth started to water. "But I decided to give them to the Martin's because of the hard time you were giving them."
Ryan was a little mad, but whatever. Cookies are cookies. Brendon could give his cookies to whoever he wanted to.
"The peanut butter ones." Brendon clarified.
Ryan turned on Brendon. "You're not funny," he told him. Brendon smiled at him like he was the funniest person in existence. Ryan poked that spot in between Brendon's ribs on his left side and Brendon folded into himself, laughing.
Ryan smiled triumphantly. Even after all these years, he could get a response like that. He poked harder, and Brendon winced before laughing harder. Ryan didn't want Brendon to bruise, like he always did, so he stopped, but left his hand on Brendon's side just as a warming.
Brendon just smiled and clicked the remote.
Ryan turned to the television, but it was still black. He told Brendon to turn it on, but Brendon just glared at him and pressed the button with more force.
After a few tries Brendon sighed and Ryan vaguely remembered the bill that happened to still be on his desk.
Ryan turned on Brendon before he could get a word in edgewise. "Those damn dirty mugging mormon's. I told you they keep stealing the mail."
Brendon took a breath but couldn't help the laugh that escaped. His face looked weary, but Ryan knew he wouldn't stop teasing Ryan any time soon.
"The same mormon ninja's that stole Spencer's wife?"
Without missing a beat Ryan answered "The very same ones."
Brendon turned his wide doe eyes to Ryan. Ryan was unfazed by them. "Or maybe you forgot to pay the bill on time. Again."
Ryan pretended to think about it in his head. He wrapped his arm around Brendon and he didn't need the news. He was happy just as he was, as long as those damn Martin boys stayed on their side of the yard.
"Nope. Definitely the mormon ninja's."
fin
Liked this one? My other stories
Author: stfu_pwentzz
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
Rating: PG-13; for swearing
Summary: Ryan Ross promises never to be a cranky old man when he grows old. Well, he lied.
Disclaimer: This is an act of fiction. I don’t own any of the characters just the plot.
Author Notes: Beware, there is cranky old man Ryan Ross. I just wanted a fic where Ryan is an cranky old geezer who yells at people to get off his lawn
---
Years and years ago Ryan was a little afraid to go visit George Ross, his Grandpa. He was his dad's dad, but that didn't make it any better. His grandpa was mean, and scary, and he never had anything good to eat. It was always vegtables, and Ryan did not like vegtables.
But, his dad always came with him to visit, except the one time that he left Ryan on his grandpa's stoop, saying that he had to go to work.
Ryan gulped and he knew how long his dad worked. His dad worked all day, and he was supposed to stay there all day. Ryan wasn't stupid.
His dad's stupid "I won't be gone that long. You won't even miss me," speech. Ryan glared at him, as he took a step off his Grandpa's property.
Liar. He missed him already.
Ryan just sighed and wanted to have a good time with his Grandpa, which, of course, didn't happen. Fun and Grandpa's house were not mutually exclusive.
His grandpa didn't have a television, anything good to eat, and all he did was mumbled at the kids who walked all around his grass.
The only real sentence his grandpa spoke was "Get off my lawn! Young whippersnappers."
Ryan suddenly got quiet, and that was the maddest his grandpa ever got. He suddenly got why his father got cranky a lot.
Then he just went back to his rocking chair.
Ryan sat still the rest of the visit. He promised himself that he would never act like that when he was old. He would be the nicest old man around. Everyone would want to hang out at his house.
---
Ryan threw open the screen door and stumbled onto the porch to glare at his neighbor's kids playing duck duck goose on his lawn.
Or some ridiculous variation of the game which included tackling. He did not remember that part of the childhood game, but it still angered him.
"Hey!" He turned his head to yell at his neighbor. "Martin, control your kids!"
Martin, Ryan's next door neighbor, just gave Ryan a wave and continued talking to his wife.
Ryan glared at him, and decided he had to settle this himself.
"Ryan, calm down. You'll give yourself a hernia," a voice consoled from inside the house.
Ryan groaned. "I'm fine, Bren. Keep making dinner."
He walked down the stairs, with his cane in tact. If his face, voice and words weren't enough to scare Martin's spawn, then his trusty cane would do the trick.
He walked over to the circle where the littlest one was pinned to the ground underneath his oldest brother.
The little boy beamed up at Ryan, with a toothless grin. Ryan couldn't be deterred from his mission though. "Hey Mister Ross. Do you want to play?"
Ryan clenched his dentures down and tried his best not to whack Timmy on the head with his cane.
"No, I do not want to play. I want you meddling kids to get off my lawn."
At first he was met with silence, and reveled in the victory. Then Timmy, his older brother Dan, and his friends all burst out laughing.
Dan got off of Timmy and nudged one of his friends. "See, I told you we have the funniest neighbor ever."
Ryan was not amused as his friends chuckled and talked about how lame their neighbors were. They never set foot outside or something. Ryan wasn't listening.
"Daniel and Timothy Martin, if you do not get off my lawn right this instant, I will--" he fizzled out because the first thing on his tongue is something he did not want to say to children, however annoying they were. His nephews were just over and playing some contraption and said "I will end you" He didn't think this was the time or place for this talk. "I will bring over extra beets and broccoli from my garden."
That had to do the trick. When Ryan was a kid, he hated vegtables. If that didn't scare him, the mean old man yelling would have.
Timmy's eyes lit up and he hopped on Dan's back. "Beets, Dan! Beets. You know how long I've been asking Mom to get some?"
Ryan felt himself deflate. He forgot the Martin's were weird vegetarian hippie sorts.
He looked back to his house. Brendon was sitting on the porch and he was smiling at him.
Ryan sighed. He was not going to regret this. "If you do not get off my lawn and go to your own house I will not, I repeat, will not give out any candy next week for Halloween."
Both Timmy and Dan's faces dropped.
Dan became immediately silent but Timmy started pouting and whining. "But, But. Mister Ross, you give out the best candy. You can't do that. Can he do that Danny? Can he?"
Ryan smirked a little on the inside. "I can, and I will if you don't leave in three," he trailed off and watched silently as he didn't even need to go past three for them to swarm away from his lawn as if it had cooties or something.
Ryan felt a victory dance was in order, but he settled to sit on the porch with Brendon. Brendon was his own victory dance, even after he passed fifty.
"Dinner's gonna be a while," Brendon told him. Ryan grunted in response. He didn't feel that needed a response so he felt a grunt was sufficient.
Ryan slowly staggered up the stairs and he felt Brendon's eyes on him.
"You're going to get a stroke one day." Brendon told him.
Ryan shrugged as he got in place in his rocking chair. "And you're going to have to feed me jell-o when that happens." He smiled at Brendon.
Brendon rolled his eyes and didn't answer, just kept rocking and staring off at their front lawn.
It was a nice neighborhood, with the exception of the annoying Martin's next door. They were always over Ryan and Brendon's house. It was like their day was not complete without ruining Ryan's day.
Brendon absolutely loved Timothy and Danny. Ryan wasn't surprised to find them always in the kitchen helping him make some cookies, or some pasta because "it's Ryan's favorite."
Ryan usually found himself outside more when the Martin kids were inside his house. His front yard needed a watchful eye any way. All those thefts. People stealing the grass right from your front yard.
"You know," Brendon finally said, looking at Ryan. "I don't know why they bother you so much. They were just playing a game and you had to go and ruin Halloween for them."
Ryan was exasperated, and Brendon didn't understand. It took Ryan years to fix up their front yard to look amazing. Brendon was more inside, and Ryan was more outside. Even if it take him ten years to find out how to grow grass the correct way. "My grass, Bren. They are going to ruin my grass," Ryan explained. It wasn't the first time they've gotten in this argument.
Brendon smiled secretly to himself. "Oh, I forgot. It has to be perfect when they steal our grass or they might take something else."
Ryan went to stand up, but his back shocked, and he just stayed where he was. "There are thieves, Brendon. I know you don't believe me, but I was just talking to Spencer last week--"
"Did he also tell you about the ninja's that stole his wife?"
Ryan narrowed his eyes, trying to lean back into his chair. "Not this time. And what does that have to do with anything?"
Brendon laughed again. "The man thinks ninja's stole his wife. He's not the most trustworthy source of theft."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "Wife's are easy to steal. Take you for instance. It wouldn't take much. Easier bait than kids."
Brendon's eyes challenged him. "I would not take the bait," he pointed out. Ryan smiled to himself that Brendon didn't not call him Ryan's wife.
That was a win on Ryan's behalf.
Ryan slowly turned his neck to look at Brendon straight on. "If the words were antique and harmonica, you would be gone in a flash. Or as fast as those legs could take you."
Brendon rolled his eyes and turned away from Ryan but he was smiling. Ryan was smiling too. It was a good evening.
Ryan reached over and held onto Brendon's hand. Ryan had an inkling that Brendon might not accept it, but was not totally surprised when he didn't deny it.
Ryan loved evenings like this. The neighborhood was quiet, just him and Bren, just staring at his flat grass.
Ryan jerked his hand out of Brendon's. "It's flat, Bren."
"Nope, I believe it was found out the Earth was round roughly four hundred years ago."
Ryan made a noise in the back of his throat. Always a smart ass comment with Brendon. It didnt' end fifty years ago, and it didn't end when they were retired. "The grass. They made my grass flat."
Brendon reached over and caressed the back of Ryan's hand. "Happiness is always in your backyard. And your 'backyard' is kind of flat, so you shouldn't be upset about that."
Ryan narrowed his eyes, but didn't remove his hand. "I'd rather have a flat 'backyard' than a saggy one."
Brendon hit Ryan's hand, but put no force behind it. They rocked back together just smiling stupid as they watched the sun pass over the houses across the street.
As soon as Ryan couldn't see the sun he got up from the chair. He got really anxious when it got too dark out. "It's getting late, Bren," Ryan told him, faking a yawn.
Brendon looked down at his watch. "It's six thirty."
Ryan nodded. "That's really late. I can't believe we're out this late. We could get mugged by Morman's, Bren. Mormans!"
Brendon sighed and got up with him. "I'm morman, you asshole."
Ryan shook his head as he led them inside the house. "That's exactly what Walker said, then he let some of those mormon's into his house and they robbed him blind."
Brendon stifled a laugh and Ryan knew he wanted to point out that Jon was kind of blind, and they were not mormon's but Jehovah's Witness'. But he just smiled and followed Ryan into the living room.
It was almost time for the seven o clock news and Ryan never missed a segment. Ryan sat down, and Brendon sat down next to him.
Brendon leaned into Ryan's side and Ryan turned to look at him. Brendon just smiled at him and bent his head to lay against his shoulder. "I made some cookies today," Ryan's mouth started to water. "But I decided to give them to the Martin's because of the hard time you were giving them."
Ryan was a little mad, but whatever. Cookies are cookies. Brendon could give his cookies to whoever he wanted to.
"The peanut butter ones." Brendon clarified.
Ryan turned on Brendon. "You're not funny," he told him. Brendon smiled at him like he was the funniest person in existence. Ryan poked that spot in between Brendon's ribs on his left side and Brendon folded into himself, laughing.
Ryan smiled triumphantly. Even after all these years, he could get a response like that. He poked harder, and Brendon winced before laughing harder. Ryan didn't want Brendon to bruise, like he always did, so he stopped, but left his hand on Brendon's side just as a warming.
Brendon just smiled and clicked the remote.
Ryan turned to the television, but it was still black. He told Brendon to turn it on, but Brendon just glared at him and pressed the button with more force.
After a few tries Brendon sighed and Ryan vaguely remembered the bill that happened to still be on his desk.
Ryan turned on Brendon before he could get a word in edgewise. "Those damn dirty mugging mormon's. I told you they keep stealing the mail."
Brendon took a breath but couldn't help the laugh that escaped. His face looked weary, but Ryan knew he wouldn't stop teasing Ryan any time soon.
"The same mormon ninja's that stole Spencer's wife?"
Without missing a beat Ryan answered "The very same ones."
Brendon turned his wide doe eyes to Ryan. Ryan was unfazed by them. "Or maybe you forgot to pay the bill on time. Again."
Ryan pretended to think about it in his head. He wrapped his arm around Brendon and he didn't need the news. He was happy just as he was, as long as those damn Martin boys stayed on their side of the yard.
"Nope. Definitely the mormon ninja's."
fin
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