More RPS~ Panic at the Disco Fic
This bit me on the ass early this morning and I finished it very quickly. My beta is currently feeling broken, so no mistakes are any fault of hers. All mine. My bad. I apologize.
Title: Perception is All
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
A.N.: On the DVD that comes with the special box set, a dancer comes onstage during intermission and mentions, among other things, that Brendon is a virgin. My first thought, after I was done giggling, was, "Yeah, right."
Everyone thinks that Brendon is the dumb one, the good little Mormon boy. They marvel that he could remain so through the drugs and the booze and the groupies; it makes them coo over him, tease gently about how cute he is.
Only Ryan knows better. He remembers the night after their first show on the road, when Brendon, cheeks flushed with adrenaline and the heat from the stage-lights, hugged their band-mates first, then came to Ryan. Glancing unabashedly up into Ryan’s eyes, he’d pressed their bodies flush together, the grind of his hips so swift and sudden and somehow, completely expected. And Ryan also remembers how unsurprised he was when, later than night, Brendon climbed unceremoniously into his bed. He had been surprised by the intensity of the kiss, Brendon’s fingers surprisingly gentle against his cheeks; he’d been expecting something perfunctory, only a prelude, not something that felt so real. His equilibrium had been restored when Brendon pulled back, his usual mischievous grin, slickened now with moisture and catching the dim light, back in place for only a moment before those obscene lips had fastened to Ryan’s hipbone, kissing and biting.
So when the dancer goes onstage during the intermission and her voice soars above the cacophony of the crowd, telling them all about Brendon's innocence, Ryan glances through the backstage darkness at Brendon, catches sight of his eyes dark and glittering, and a laugh rumbles in his chest, low and dirty, because they're the only ones who know.
Title: Perception is All
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
A.N.: On the DVD that comes with the special box set, a dancer comes onstage during intermission and mentions, among other things, that Brendon is a virgin. My first thought, after I was done giggling, was, "Yeah, right."
Everyone thinks that Brendon is the dumb one, the good little Mormon boy. They marvel that he could remain so through the drugs and the booze and the groupies; it makes them coo over him, tease gently about how cute he is.
Only Ryan knows better. He remembers the night after their first show on the road, when Brendon, cheeks flushed with adrenaline and the heat from the stage-lights, hugged their band-mates first, then came to Ryan. Glancing unabashedly up into Ryan’s eyes, he’d pressed their bodies flush together, the grind of his hips so swift and sudden and somehow, completely expected. And Ryan also remembers how unsurprised he was when, later than night, Brendon climbed unceremoniously into his bed. He had been surprised by the intensity of the kiss, Brendon’s fingers surprisingly gentle against his cheeks; he’d been expecting something perfunctory, only a prelude, not something that felt so real. His equilibrium had been restored when Brendon pulled back, his usual mischievous grin, slickened now with moisture and catching the dim light, back in place for only a moment before those obscene lips had fastened to Ryan’s hipbone, kissing and biting.
So when the dancer goes onstage during the intermission and her voice soars above the cacophony of the crowd, telling them all about Brendon's innocence, Ryan glances through the backstage darkness at Brendon, catches sight of his eyes dark and glittering, and a laugh rumbles in his chest, low and dirty, because they're the only ones who know.