Fic Post: It's Almost Valentines Day
And I'm showing my lack of enthusiasm towards the holiday by writing Ryan Ross.
I have outtakes for it, featuring second grade Ryan and Spencer, which will probably end up on here in the next few days, i'm assuming.
Have fun. Be nice.
*
It’s not that Ryan, you know, hates Valentine’s Day. No, it’s really the opposite of that. He loves the theatrics and the colors and the cupcakes that Brendon always buys (chocolate and vanilla, the frosting so sweet that it stung his teeth when he took a bite.) No, it was the loneliness the Holiday brought along.
It wasn’t that his father was gone. Ryan had never been one to expect things out of his father in the first place. And even when he had been with Jac (And, really, it wasn’t like that had been a healthy relationship in the first place.) he’d been lonely. He hated the presents Jac bought him and he hated the obligatory way he’d take her home with him, hated the stupid smile on her face when he took her home later.
He still feels lonely and uncomfortable now, when he’s pointedly not watching Pete not sleep. When their legs are tangled up tight together and every few seconds Pete runs his fingers through Ryan’s hair. Even now when he’s touching Pete everywhere he can, savoring the body warmth, he’s so fucking lonely that it hurts.
"It’s the meds," Pete had whispered sometime after midnight and before sunrise. "They’re supposed to make you happy, only they make it worse." Ryan had mumbled incoherently against Pete’s collarbone, mentally blaming the lack of response on the tired, lethargic air in the room. He hated being dependent on the pills, hated not knowing or controlling himself, hated how Pete fucking knew.
*
Ryan hadn’t even wanted to come to Chicago at all that week, but there was still a part of him, however vaguely muted, that kept screaming ohmygodpetewentz and he’d stuttered out a ‘yes’ before he even gave himself time to think about it. Ryan’s plane got in on the 13th, and he was sort of dreading the next day, the show, the everything. And as Ryan sat in the airport, waiting for Pete to pick him up, his eyes couldn’t leave the happy couples, flying across the country to be with each other for that special day. But then Pete had shown up, and eventually was locking the door to his bedroom behind them, and the date had completely flown out of his mind, landing somewhere next to his pants off the side of the bed. His legs had tangled with Pete’s, his breath coming out in hot puffs of air as he let Pete whisper into his ear and push up into him until Ryan gave a small shudder-shake and arched off of the bed and into Pete’s hands.
Pete had left his notebooks open again, and when he went to take a shower quick, before his parents got home, Ryan had leafed idly through the pages, smiling as he recognized the familiar lyrics scrawled into margins in Pete’s distinct handwriting. Later, he let Pete paint his face with hearts and swirls and glitter, and Ryan had stole a Clandestine shirt from an open box of merch in the corner of the room and walked downstairs to eat dinner with Pete’s parents.
*
They were careful with him, almost too careful, really, as they tried to skirt around the ‘family’ topic of the pseudo-holiday, and Ryan winced every time Pete’s mom cleared her throat and politely changed the topic. Pete didn’t seem to notice, though, and bounced around the house all night, telling embarrassing stories about his dad, and finally pulling out a vase of flowers for his mother at the end of the dinner. Ryan had smiled when Pete handed them to her, blushed and ducked into the other room when she had wrapped her arms around Pete in a suffocating hug.
Ryan thought he’d escaped, but as soon as they slid into Pete’s car to leave for the night, Pete had slid a carefully wrapped pink package over to Ryan, a huge grin plastered across his face as Ryan sighed and took it from him.
"Go on," Pete had encouraged him, refusing to start the car until Ryan tore into the paper. Ryan pressed his lips together before mumbling that really, he didn’t have to "I did," Pete said, his knuckles grazing soft quick over Ryan’s thigh before he started the car.
Ryan slid his finger underneath the wrapping paper, not wanting to ruin it and peeled it away, smiling as the red cover of a notebook met his eyes. "Pete," Ryan breathed, looking up at him and laughing.
"Open it," Pete said, gesturing towards the notebook with his free hand as he shifted the car into gear. Ryan folded up the rest of the wrapping paper, tucking it into Pete’s middle counsel and opened the notebook, his eyes grazing over the inside cover.
Now you dont have to be lonely
xoxo pete
Ryan turned over to look at Pete as the car started off down the road, his smile reaching his eyes for the first time since he left Spencer’s house back in Vegas. Ryan reached out a hand and traced a finger carefully down Pete’s jaw line, before he came back up and playfully flicked at his earlobe.
"Thank you."