The Inevitable Weight ||Ryan/Brendon/Keltie || NC-17 || 17,924 words || Part One ||

[worldofthorns]

Brendon's late. Fuck, he's so late.

Since he is late, Brendon is doing everything he can to get to Ryan's house. It's not his fault that the interview went over the allotted time and it's not like he didn't warn Ryan about it in a text message. It's not his fault that he had to act like he gave a shit about the new tour coming up and it's certainly not his fault that their publicist hates him and claimed it was his turn to do another radio interview when in fact it was actually Jon's turn.

Sometimes Brendon wonders what awful thing he did as a child to make karma bite him in the ass so badly.

But that's not the issue. The issue is that Ryan Fucking Ross said that if he wasn't at his house in fifteen minutes they would go on without him. So, naturally, Brendon does everything he can short of getting another speeding ticket to get to his house.

God, Ryan is such an asshole for this.

It takes exactly twenty-two minutes to get there. And it's seven minutes too long, but it's not like they could have gotten that far, right? They're probably just making out against the door or god, pulling each other clothes off as they make their way to the bedroom. Brendon figures he hardly missed anything. He also reasons that Keltie wouldn't let Ryan do much without him. She would hold Ryan back, because Keltie loves him. She wants him to be there for the good stuff.

Brendon curses as he tries to unlock the door and when he does he pushes it open quickly. He sheds his jacket as he calls out, “Hey! I’m here! Jesus, it took for fucking ever.”

No one answers.

They have to be here though. He just talked to Ryan. They’re definitely here. Brendon hears water running, so he throws his shirt off as he makes his way down the hallway towards the bathroom. They wouldn’t fuck in the shower without him would they? Then he hears a low moan. Ryan. Followed by giggling. Definitely Keltie. Oh, they are in so much trouble. Brendon flings the door open.

“You two are in so much fucking trouble, it's not even funny. Oh. Oh.“

There's something to be said about Ryan Ross' walk-in shower. Anyone can see into it. Brendon remembers when Ryan had it redone, and how he specifically chose the type of doors that would make it visible for any Tom, Dick and Brendon to peer into it perfectly.

He always knew that deep down Ryan was a fucking voyeur.

Brendon stares with a dumbfounded look at Ryan and Keltie, the water drizzling over their bodies, skin flushed together. He looks at how Ryan's head lays slack against the wall, eyes closed and mouth slightly opened, and Brendon sees that he's breathing hard.

When he finally realizes where he is, he clears his throat before saying, "You could've waited a few more minutes, asshole."

"I told you that we would, ah," Ryan gasps, his eyes squeezing shut, "go on without you."

Kelite pulls back from her activities and begins to giggle. She turns around to look at Brendon briefly before another round of giggles emerges from her mouth.

Brendon points at Keltie. “And you! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Brendon pouts. Keltie smiles over at him brightly. Her hair is plastered to her cheeks, her neck, and Brendon wants to lick her water slick skin. He wants to taste the diluted sweetness, he wants it all. God, he missed her.

“How could I say no, Bren? I mean look at him.” Keltie says, her voice even, eyes never leaving Ryan's. She slides down onto her knees and kisses Ryan's thigh before taking his cock in her hand and stroking a couple of times. Ryan keeps his eyes closed and moans softly.

“Yeah, yeah. Ryan Ross is a sexy motherfucker. I get it, but still.”

“Stop pouting and get your ass in here, Brendon,” Ryan commands impatiently. Brendon doesn’t have to be told twice, not by Ryan anyway. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls them off with his boxers in one swift motion. But, once again, karma hates Brendon because that’s when Hobo decides to invade the area, darting between Brendon's legs before he can grab her.

"The fucking dog has decided to make an appearance it seems!" Brendon yells back, shaking his head in disbelief. Definitely gotta rethink childhood activities later.

“Well you know the rule,” Ryan retorts in a strangled voice, and Kelite is obviously resuming her duties. Brendon really has a love/hate relationship with the two of them right now.

“Honestly Ross, I really don't see why it's such a big fucking deal if the dog is here,” Brendon says as he hops around on one leg trying to peel his jeans off.

“It's fucking weird to have--” Ryan's voice cuts off for a brief second, a low groan muffed by the rushing noise of water escaping into the bathroom. “My dog around when I’m fucking,” he finishes in a breathless voice.

“Well, maybe she's a voyeur like her owners!” Brendon exclaims, shaking his head. He squats down to beckon her over, to which she happily comes. At this point he doesn't care that he's naked as the day he was born, and quickly, but gently, exits her out of the room.

“I'm missing out on this shit over a fucking dog,” he mutters with a shake of his head as he closes the door and walks to the shower. “You better be ready for me, assholes.”

Keltie pushes the shower door opened and the steam fills the room. She brushes her hair out of her face, says, “C’mere, Brendon.”

Brendon walks in easily, dropping to his knees at the shower door next to Keltie. “Do you know how much I missed you, baby?”

“Mmm. I think you better show me,” Keltie counters seductively. Brendon crawls towards her growling low, and the water’s warm against his skin. He presses up close to her, chest to chest, the water trickling down their bodies. Brendon reaches for her neck, brings their lips together firmly. Ryan moans from somewhere to his left. And he looks up, says, “Oh baby, I think you abandoned Ryan’s dick. He’s going to pout now.” Keltie smiles and Brendon kisses her again, grabs her ass and presses tighter against her. He rubs his half hard dick against her thigh.

“I’m not pouting. That’s your job,” Ryan says defiantly. Brendon laughs against Keltie’s mouth and they both dissolve into low laughs, and then Brendon slips a bit on the slick floor of the shower, falls on top of Keltie, and they laugh more.

Keltie continues to giggle against Brendon's shoulder and he lovingly nibbles at her neck. “Let's do something to him that'll really make him scream for more,” he whispers into her ear. When he lifts up to hover above her, the water dripping down his back forms a small mist around them, and he feels his chest tighten. She's beautiful, hair splayed across the wet tiled floor, and they both lock gazes and she knows. Keltie always knows these things and every time it makes Brendon fall in love with her all over again.

He feels her adjust her thigh just right and Brendon's eyes flutter a moment as he bites his bottom lip to stifle a groan. When he regains some control again, he looks back down at her and raises his eyebrows. She gives him a small sultry smile, and nods, and this time Brendon feels his heart race.

“Hello? Can you two stop canoodling and get back to what you were originally doing?” Ryan asks with a tinge of humor and impatience.

Brendon chuckles and slides off of her carefully, adjusting himself in front of Ryan's cock. “Miss us?” he asks, and directs his gaze at Ryan.

A small smile tugs at Ryan's mouth and Brendon feels his blood rushing through his veins. “Wouldn't you like to know,” he challenges in a husky voice.

“Bastard,” Brendon protests. Keltie slides up next to him, licks across Brendon’s jaw and grabs the back of Ryan’s thigh, just under his ass cheek. “You know I shouldn’t be so generous. Sometimes I think you take advantage of my generosity, Ryan.” Brendon smiles smugly, and looks up at Ryan, water hitting his face as he does. Ryan rolls his eyes, his gaze still fixating on Brendon.

“Brendon, the plan,” Keltie reminds him. She takes Ryan’s cock in her small hand and Ryan gasps.

“Yeah, I’m on it, I swear,” Brendon huffs as he shifts forward a bit more so he’s shoulder to shoulder with Keltie. Brendon watches her duck her head, running her tongue along the head of Ryan’s cock. And Brendon feels the urge to fuck her so bad in that instant, craves to do so many things to her that it makes his head dizzy with want. Keltie takes Ryan’s cock in her mouth, bobbing, and Ryan moans, reaches for her.

Brendon kisses her cheek and runs his fingers back through her wet hair, pushes the strands away from her face. Then he licks at the corner of her mouth where it’s stretched around Ryan’s cock. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat and pulls back, kisses Brendon deeply.

“My turn,” he smiles against her lips.

Keltie nods, giving a quick kiss before leaning back for him. Brendon looks up at Ryan, the water breaking in short spurts against his shoulder and chest. He waits until Ryan looks down at him, the smug smile still spread on his face as he grabs at the base of Ryan's cock again. He wasn't Keltie, he didn't have the gentle touch that could set Ryan on fire. Ryan expects abrasiveness and a rough tug from him.

And that's what Brendon is going to give him.

He carefully wraps his mouth around Ryan's cock, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard. Keltie's fingers lay carefully against the base of Brendon's neck, guiding him as he bobs his head down the shaft. Brendon rests his free hand on the wall next to Ryan's hip to give him some kind of slippery leverage. The tile hurts on his knees, but he's willing to ignore that factor just to see the display above him.

Ryan's back is arched against the tile, his mouth slack. He's gasping for air desperately, the ability to breathe constricted by the steam in the air. Brendon, however, doesn't care and sucks harder, removing a hand from the tiled wall to grab the back of Ryan's ass in an attempt to provide room. Brendon then raises his hand slapping Ryan's water logged skin, a sloppy smack reverberating in the air. Ryan moans louder and Keltie presses her lips against Brendon's shoulder. He lets out a satisfied, muffled groan (his jaw is starting to ache a little) when she maneuvers herself behind him, her hands caressing his slick body.

Brendon's senses have gone into overdrive and he can feel everything and see everything a hundred times more precisely than before. The water splashing against his skin mixed with Keltie's kiss and Ryan's fingers through his hair, pushing more of his cock in his mouth, makes all of the blood in Brendon's veins flow straight to his cock. He doesn't even know how he's keeping his composure, and he almost loses all control when he feels Keltie push flush against his back and lick at his ear.

“I wanna watch him come, baby,” she whispers softly, “I want to see him come on your face.”

Brendon moans again, but he can't help it. When she talks like that her voice twists his insides, and he can't help but comply with whatever she wants. He knows that Ryan is going to crest soon enough, and when he hears the slight grunt of warning, Brendon pulls back just like Keltie wants. He wraps his hand around Ryan's cock, opening his mouth and pumping hard, the come oozing out over his chin and mouth.

Ryan watches as Brendon swallows his semen hungrily, eyes lust heavy and it makes Brendon's chest tight. Brendon even takes the opportunity to lap up the remaining bits off the tip, licking his lips happily. He sways a little at the erotic euphoria, and he's about to say something but Keltie's turning him around and her lips are on his and she's kissing him passionately. Brendon feels her moan against his mouth, and his cock twitches at the sound.

Keltie pulls back and smiles smugly, looking down as the water ejects a million different arrows off of her back. “We should fix this,” she muses.

“We should get the hell out of here,” Brendon corrects. “This water is too fucking cold for the things I'm gonna do to you.”

The water stops, and Brendon looks up to see Ryan turning it off. “You better dry yourself off. I don't want my blanket and sheets wet.”

Brendon scoffs, “It's water, Ross. It'll dry.” He leans over and nuzzles Keltie's neck. “Isn't that right, baby?”

“Yes,” she breathes when Brendon begins to suck on her neck hungrily. “Bed,” she gasps.

Brendon couldn't agree more.

* * *

Brendon wakes up in a tangle of arms, legs, and the overwhelming feeling of body heat. His eyes flutter open and he looks over to see a pair of hazel eyes glancing at him lazily.

“Hello,” Ryan says softly, placing a soft kiss on Brendon's shoulder.

“Hey there,” Brendon whispers back, his voice coming out hoarse. He feels Keltie stir next to him, her hand gently brushing against his hip.

“I think,” Ryan muses, his chin resting on Brendon's shoulder. “We should do what we did more often.” The sun is settling against the sky, small beams of red and orange bleeding against Ryan's amused face.

“What's that?” Brendon asks, his eyes fluttering as Ryan's rough fingertips brush over his chest. He can feel him push closer, his thigh wrapping around Brendon's more tightly.

“Watching you fuck her from behind while she's sucking me off,” Ryan breaths in Brendon's ear and Brendon can feel a shudder run down his spine. “The way you look, your face...It's just,” Ryan trails off for a moment to lick around the shell of Brendon's ear, “breathtaking.”

Brendon chuckles a little, watching the setting sun's light dance over Ryan's face. “You're such a sap, Ross,” he muses.

Ryan gives a low laugh back, his lips tracing across Brendon's face before giving him a soft kiss. “Only for your sorry ass.”

“Hey now, you rather like my ass,” Brendon objects, and Ryan laughs again, the low rumble filtering on Brendon's skin. He feels Keltie shift again, a soft sigh escaping from her lips. He turns to look at her, and presses his lips gently against her forehead. She smiles at the affection, her fingers gently grazing up and down his side.

This, Brendon thinks, is what it's all about. This is the meaning of it all.

* * *

Brendon first feels a change during Spencer and Ryan's birthday party.

Brendon comes over to meet with Keltie and Ryan before everyone piles up at Spencer's where the limo is going to drop by. The plan for the night is to head over to the strip and have a nice dinner amongst friends, then meander over towards a club that Ryan and Spencer decided on a few weeks before.

When Keltie opens the door, Brendon instantly lets out a long whistle. “Damn, baby,” he drawls, looking over the classy pink dress. “You look amazing.” She smiles brightly, and he lets himself in easily, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “Why haven't I seen you in this before?”

“I just got it a few days ago,” Keltie explains with a bright smile. She shifts her hips a little, the bottom of the dress ruffling around side to side before settling back into place.

“Oh, but you didn't even let me have a test run with it,” Brendon notes, a sly grin breaking onto his face. He pulls her closer (if that's at all possible) and grazes his lips over her chin down to her neck. She smells like his favorite perfume, and his eyes flutter shut at the aroma. Brendon kisses her neck in the exact spot the fragrance emits from, leaving a small trail down her shoulder and back up to her chin.

Keltie shudders a little against the chaste kisses, tilting her head towards Brendon's lips when he gets close enough. Brendon smiles into it, his tongue flicking out to push the seam of her lips apart. She does it easily, and Brendon feels her fingers card through his hair, alongside a small moan as their tongues begin to dance feverishly.

It’s the small things that make a huge difference when comparing the way Keltie kisses to the way Ryan kisses. Ryan's always careful and precise, making sure that the dance between their two mouths is perfectly in sync. Keltie has a more 'go with the flow' attitude, and lets Brendon take the lead, rolling with each counter beat until it flows almost like a dance step, graceful and elegant.

“Hey, leave some room for me,” Ryan breathes near the area of their lips, his voice low and just short of husky. Brendon pulls back, his eyes opening to look at Keltie's lips, swollen and glistening. Brendon watches as Ryan catches the back of her neck, guiding her face over to him, her mouth growing lax as her eyes fall shut. A small gasp escapes Brendon's lips as he watches Ryan's tongue snake out and into her mouth, Keltie's grip growing tighter around Brendon's hair.

Ryan cups the side of her face, his thumb brushing against her cheekbone before pulling back and resting his forehead against hers. They smile at each other, rubbing their noses together and Brendon feels Keltie loosen her grip to trail her fingers through his hair.

“We better get going,” Brendon suggests, and he's surprised at how low his voice has grown. Kelite and Ryan pull apart, and Keltie smiles as Ryan nods.

“You wanna drive?” Ryan asks, holding out his keys for Brendon to take. Brendon shrugs, and takes the keys before walking outside, Keltie and Ryan following out behind him. He locks the door and makes his way over to Ryan's Mercedes, and being the kindly gentlemen he is, opens the door just for her.

“Your chariot, m'lady,” Brendon greets, bending down in an overly polite gesture. Keltie laughs happily, and shakes her head. When Brendon makes his way over to his door, he notices Ryan rolling his eyes, an amused smirk on his face.

“Would you rather I open the door for you?” Brendon teases, and Ryan pushes on his shoulder playfully.

“Dickhead.”

Brendon leans over and kisses Ryan on the cheek. “You love me.”

“Always,” Ryan says easily before getting into the car.

The drive isn't that long, and the whole time Brendon claims music chief, of which Ryan quickly denies him reign.

“There's no way we're listening to your latest obsession of Britney Spears, Brendon,” Ryan huffs from the backseat of the car.

“But I'm driving, and all drivers get the choice of what they want to listen to,” Brendon argues. He reaches over and places his hand on Keltie's knee, and feels her move closer to his touch as he rubs his thumb over the smooth skin.

“I don't care if you're driving or not, it's my car,” Ryan counters, his voice even. “Besides, it's my birthday celebration anyway,” he adds.

Brendon adjusts the mirror so that Ryan's eyes and his connect for a brief second. “Your birthday was two days ago, Ry,” Brendon mused. “Two days.”

Ryan scoffs. “So? We're celebrating today.”

“And we were in Australia for yours and therefore you are not getting two birthday requests,” Brendon continues, completely amused. “You can't have your cake and eat it too.”

“Oh, whatever.” Keltie giggles. Ryan narrows his eyes but the grin is still there. “This doesn't mean that you get to withhold me from my celebratory birthday sex, though.”

“Never,” Brendon promises, and he means it.

* * *

Brendon forgot about the photographer.

He forgot that there was a promotional portion of the birthday celebration. He forgot that this included not only everyone being followed during dinner but also for the group's rounds at the hotel before they went to club Blush.

During dinner Brendon smiles and clinks his glass of champagne with everyone. He watches as the photographer asks for Keltie and Ryan to pose for a picture. He stares and tries not to let the panging in his chest ripple into his ribcage because sometimes things need to be compromised. The world knows about Ryan and Keltie, but they don't know about RyanKeltieBrendon.

He keeps telling himself that he is okay.

Brendon continues to watch them over the rim of his glass, Ryan leaning over and whispering words into Keltie's ear. He waits to see her flicker her eyes up at Brendon and grin. He knows that look, he knows what it means: she's letting him in without saying anything at all. He loves that she can speak to him in a veil of unspoken language; it makes him feel like he's with them across the table. Like he's still apart of them.

“You alright?” Spencer asks softly, and Brendon turns his gaze over to his friend, raising his eyebrows.

“Hmm?” Brendon hums.

“You look...” Spencer trails off, chewing on his cheek to find the right word. “I don't know, you look different.”

“Probably just tired,” Brendon shrugs. He's trying his best not to show that he's looking in and watching as the world sees a mold that he's secretly a part of too. He's trying his best not to crumble at the seams, because at times, he knows that he has to make the ultimate sacrifice and deal with the truth.

The panging isn't stopping.

“You sure, man?” Spencer presses. His eyes flicker over to Ryan and Keltie, and Brendon moves his focus on them too. They're both looking at him, faces crinkled a little in what Brendon knows is concern.

Brendon smiles tightly, nods and looks back at Spencer. “I'm sure.” He knows that his friend is not convinced, but he doesn't push it. Brendon's grateful for it.

Dinner continues to drone on, and Brendon pays careful attention as the photographer takes more pictures of Ryan and Keltie. He starts to count the times that the flash blinds him, and eventually he stops the counting altogether. He suddenly feels very tired, and the aching in his limbs has dissolved into small flaps of butterfly wings floating down to his stomach.

“Brendon?” He looks up from the plate to see Keltie's brown eyes focusing on him, pooled with concern. She leans over to him, albeit cautiously, and whispers, “Are you okay, baby?”

Brendon feels his lips tug at the corners of his mouth. Reaching underneath the table, he squeezes her knee affectionately. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he says softly. He hopes that Keltie remains convinced, and when he catches her searching his face, he notices she's not.

“You're not upset about something are you?”

She's being diplomatic, and Brendon feels his heart swell a little at how careful she is about the whole thing. She's dancing on eggshells, her metaphorical nimble toes grazing over his emotions, never too much.

Brendon shakes his head, turning his gaze back down at the plate in front of him. He feels fingers brush at the nape of his neck, long and languid strokes, and immediately he knows who it is.

Ryan.

“We're leaving soon,” he feels Ryan whisper close to his ear. “I know you're getting anxious.”

Brendon sighs. He is getting anxious, but it's probably not for the same reason that they believe it is. It's not because he's being impatient and the ADD is kicking in. It's because of the flashing bulbs gleaming over his eyelids no matter how hard he tries to keep them closed. It's because he understands something they don't about the world.

It's always against them.

The night goes along a lot smoother after dinner; especially after Brendon takes the liberty to have a couple of shots and a few beers. He still recalls the flashing lights around everyone as they walked through the Cirque stage area, and after a few goofy poses later, everyone finally saunters over to the club.

Brendon steals glances and notices that they don't hold hands on the way over like Spencer and Haley do. He wonders for a brief second if they feel the same he does at that moment: Detached from the rest of the world, giving off a ray of fake smiles and trying to make it through.

He so needs another drink.

Everything kind forms itself into a blur. There's music, there's laughter, and everyone's happy. Keltie and Haley disappear for a moment, and Brendon knows where they've gone. He waits to find Ryan, feeling detached from the whole situation, and he's scrambling to find a way to get to Ryan because she's not there and he needs that warmth, that reassurance.

It's then that the cooing of 'Happy Birthday' starts to ripple through everyone, and Brendon turns around to see Haley and Keltie smiling like stadium lights, the brightness blinding. He begins to mutter the song with everyone else, watching as they walk over with the cake just for Spencer and Ryan, watches as the flashes grow more blinding and suddenly he needs to get the fuck out of here and he needs a cigarette now.

Somehow, he makes it out to a balcony nearby, fumbles through the soft pack and places the cigarette between his lips. The lighter is suddenly missing and fuck how did he lose it again? But there's the flicker of ignition in front of him and Brendon instantly leans over and puffs until his lungs are full. He closes his eyes and sighs happily, exhaling the remaning smoke.

“Thanks,” he whispers to his savior of the moment.

“Anytime,” the voice rumbles soft and low.

Brendon opens his eyes, and he realizes that it was someone he was talking to inside of the club. He’s forgotten his name, but they were having some kind of conversation about the difference in beaches from the west coast to the east coast, and how it's amazing that two bodies of water could be so fucking different. But, the nameless stranger is still looking at him with a goofy grin and Brendon smiles lazily, puffing heavily on his cigarette.

“What?” he asks.

“Pictures don't do you justice,” the guy shrugs, and Brendon starts to notice how his hair is much darker than Ryan's, and his eyes are blue instead of golden brown. He wonders, in his sudden foggy and dizzy state, if he looks hard into the stranger's eyes, he could get lost in them too.

“Oh really?” Brendon attempts a purr, and yeah, he's flirting, but he needs to feel something. Ryan and Keltie are inside getting snapshot after snapshot of them, ones that will be online for all the fans to see within twenty-four hours,and he's stuck outside with a cigarette and some nameless stranger. He leans against the side of the railing and suddenly everything below looks much brighter and bolder than before.

“Hey,” the guy says, his voice rough in Brendon's ear. Brendon can feel him fishing for the cigarette and Brendon's eyes fall shut. His voice isn't soft like Ryan's gets; it's deeper and scratchier. “You alright?”

Brendon wants to tell stranger that he's not alright. That the two people he would give everything for, would throw all caution to the wind for, are inside right now, having the time of their lives and he's outside with some nameless person. He wants to tell the stranger to hold him, because that's what he needs. He needs to pretend that the pair of arms that would wrap around him are small and lanky but strong and that there's the familiar scent of perfume against his lips and nose and --

“Brendon, what the fuck?” Brendon's snapped back to reality and he spins around. It's too fast, and he closes his eyes, gives a small smile that he knows is too wide and looks at Ryan with wide eyes.

“Ryannnnnn,” he sings out, and the stranger is left behind because Ryan's there and it’s just what he needs in this moment. He'll be missing Keltie soon enough but he needs something tangible and he needs one of them right now.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ryan's voice is even and his arm wraps around Brendon's waist and when the stranger tries to say something, he can hear Ryan snap, “I got him, don't fucking worry about it.”

Ryan's got him. He always has him, everything is RyanRyanRyan right now and Brendon feels so happy, so fucking happy. There aren't flashes when he hears the roar of the club, there's no more spikes of laughter, but a silence that is so clear and crisp and he wonders, he wonders--

“Where's Keltie?” he whispers, his face resting against Ryan's neck and he takes a deep breath. Ryan's there, his arm around his waist and the click of a door tells Brendon that they're in the bathroom and Brendon leans against something cool and smooth against his hands.

“She's coming,” Ryan says quietly, and the sound of the faucet starts and Brendon's eyes are still closed. There's a few lingering moments of silence and a sigh. Brendon feels a wet cloth against his neck and he lets out a happy moan. “What were you doing out there?”

Ryan's voice sounds tight and Brendon's eyes are so heavy he can't open them to look at Ryan properly. “Nothing,” Brendon tries to protest but it only comes out sounding soft and just on this side of guilty.

“Bullshit,” Ryan snaps, and Brendon jumps, his eyes involuntarily jerking open. He sees Ryan's eyebrows furrowed in anger, but his hands are still soft against his neck, wiping away the heat that was so suffocating before.

“Ryan,” Brendon manages to say, his hand lifting up, an anchor on his arm, but by some divine power, he is doing it, and it rests against Ryan's cheek. “I'm sorry,” he whispers.

He's sorry that it has to be like this. He's sorry that he has to stand on the side and watch them be the perfect couple that they were not too long ago, before he came along. He's sorry that he can’t be apart of it, but he’s mostly sorry that he thought he could take on the world.

But he can't.

Keltie walks in and Brendon's gaze turns to her and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Babyyyy,” he coos. Ryan jerks him a little, his head slamming against the wall, and he looks back over at Ryan, his smile falling. “What the hell, Ryan?”

“What happened,” Ryan demands, his eyes dark. It's a look that Brendon has seen only a few times before, one time occurred when they were recording Fever and Brendon almost punched him in the face. Ryan was trying to convey the proper pitch, but didn’t know how to put it into words. They argued for hours. It was during a time when they were young and still trying to find each other, and god it was frustrating.

“I told you ‘nothing’,” Brendon pleas, his words tumbling out of his mouth. “Why do you keep asking me that? I was just outside--” And he stops, Keltie's fingers resting on his lips and he looks at her and her eyes are soft and there’s something else lingering.

Sadness.

“Why did you leave?” she whispers. “We were looking for you.”

“You were busy,” Brendon mutters. Her fingers drop from his mouth. He looks down at the floor and counts the tiny tiles. “You were busy and you were happy, and everyone was watching the both of you, and I was just there, standing there and--”

Keltie's quieting Brendon's mouth with her finger again and he can feel her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close to her. “Shh,” she whispers. Her fingertips stretch over the nape of his neck, searching through his hair. “We're never too busy for you, Bren.”

Brendon looks up at Ryan and can see the anger fading away but still lingering in his eyes. He feels Ryan reach out and graze the side of Brendon's cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing along his jawline.

“We're never too busy,” Ryan repeats, his voice low. “Not for you.”

Brendon nods and sighs. He knows they're never too busy for him. He knows that they love him and would do anything for him and he would do anything for them. They are all connected and they understand each other. Brendon fears no one else does.

They come out of the bathroom and, to Brendon's surprise, the beat of the party has not changed. A few people greet Brendon back, and Ryan gets him more water. It feels good, cool against his throat, and for the rest of the night they don't leave him.

He wishes it could be like this all the time.

* * *

They drive home in silence, Brendon slouching in the backseat in Keltie's arms. She's warm and he smiles against her chest.

“You always smell amazing,” Brendon states, and Keltie lets out a soft chuckle.

“You say that all the time.”

“It's because it's true.” Keltie's fingers are brushing through Brendon's hair and he lets out a hum of satisfaction.

“What the fuck happened back there?” Ryan asks, his voice even but stern. It makes Brendon jump out of his sudden haze, and his eyes open to see the lights dance inside of the car.

“I told you, Ry,” Brendon says in a weak voice, because Keltie's hands are fucking amazing. “Nothing.”

Ryan doesn't say anything and Brendon can almost hear the sound of him grinding his teeth. “It didn't look like nothing,” he counters.

Brendon sighs and loosens his grip from Keltie's arms. “Dude, you're getting your fucking panties in a twist over nothing.” He's not in the mood for arguments; he just wants to go back to Ryan's place and curl in their bed and pull both of them close to him. He felt so detached at the party and right now all he needs is to feel attached.

“Hey, you're the one who decided to run off with one of Shane's friends and then I come out to find your sorry ass and you happen to be all over the guy, which I find slightly ironic considering--”

“Ryan,” Keltie cuts him off. She doesn't say anything for a moment and Brendon's world is spinning, and it's unrelenting. It's going faster and faster, and all he wants back is her warmth and her arms and that intoxicating scent she has.

“Is he telling the truth?” she asks softly, and her voice sounds like a mixture of fear and uncertainty. Brendon feels his heart racing in his chest, and honestly, he doesn't want to talk about this right now.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I don't know what happened, Kelts,” Brendon admits, “I went outside for a smoke, next thing I know, Ryan's coming out and yelling at the guy.” He closes his eyes because fuck, those lights are really goddamn bright and are they home yet or not?
Brendon hears Keltie move closer to him, over to the middle section of the car and leans up to say something to Ryan. There's a soft murmur of words, but Brendon's mind is too fuzzy to make out what they're saying exactly. He feels tired, so tired, and he turns down the window to allow the warm air to blow over his face. Brendon finds comfort in it and with one last sigh he tries his best to keep the world from spinning too fast.

* * *

When Brendon wakes up the next morning, he feels as though his head has been slammed into a brick wall.

He knows he shouldn't open his eyes, but he has to go to the bathroom. There's a weird mixture of nausea and hunger panging his stomach. After a moment of inner conflict about which strategy he should use to get to the nearest bathroom, Brendon realizes that he will, in fact, need to open his eyes. After all, there are two bodies that he will have to climb over.

But there's no warmth surrounding him. Instantly panic sinks in and he opens his eyes quickly to find more blinding light hitting his pupils all too quickly and that he's in the guest bedroom.

Alone.

Brendon pulls back the sheets, and finds that he's stripped down to his underwear. At that moment he really doesn't care about modesty and walks (or staggers rather) to the nearest bathroom. He splashes cold water on his face and looks in the mirror, desperate to keep his body steady. There's a small giggle in the other room that echoes to him, and giving his head a shake, Brendon exits.

When he walks over to the kitchen, he sees Keltie standing in front of the stove, wearing an old t-shirt of Ryan's the collar stretched to the point it's hanging off her shoulder. It's faded from being washed for the past god only knows how many years, and he grins at the smile on her face. Ryan's leaning his back against the counter in his boxers, one hand laced through a mug the other grasping a newspaper.

Brendon doesn't move. They look happy again, like they had last night, only this time they're alone. He misses moments like this, where he watches them interact, stealing small kisses from each other. But they never look the way they do when he's there with them, the three of them together, molded into one.

Serenity is only in the form of three.

It just hurts that the rest of the world can't see it.

The feeling comes back, an ache inside of his chest that twists against the strings in his heart. He feels it constrict the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that what they have. This is only between them. It's only marked and understood by them.

Keltie turns and gasps, obviously unaware that Brendon is standing few feet away from them.

She smiles and walks over, wrapping her arms around his waist and gives him a soft kiss.

“Morning, baby,” she whispers, nuzzling at his jaw. “How're you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Brendon answers, and his voice comes out cracked and worn out. He looks over at Ryan, focused on the newspaper still. “Is he the reason why I ended up in the guest bedroom?”

“No, he's not the reason why you ended up in the guest bedroom,” Ryan answers, his eyes never leaving the paper. He takes a long sip of his coffee. “The reason why you ended up there was because you insisted that you wanted to sleep there. You said the bed's not big enough for the three of us, so we helped you out and put you in there.”

Brendon feels the strings move from down his chest to his stomach, taunt rope wrapping around. “I was drunk, Ross,” he says playfully, “you know better than to listen to me when I’m drunk.”

Ryan shrugs his shoulders, eyes still focusing on the newspaper. “Not my problem.”

Brendon furrows his eyebrows and gives Keltie a small kiss before pulling away and walking over to Ryan. He grabs his cup gently, pushes aside the newspaper and plants his feet over Ryan’s crossed legs, scooting close to him.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Brendon whispers as he leans in against Ryan’s shoulder, leaving a small kiss. “I have a headache and I feel sick from drinking too much. You can’t be mad at me too,” he whines. Brendon feels Ryan chuckle against him, his shoulders moving up and down and a small kiss graces his temple.

“I couldn’t stay mad at you for long even if I wanted to,” Ryan whispers, his hand resting on the small of Brendon’s back.

Brendon smiles because it’s true.

* * *

They're going on tour again.

Brendon shamelessly begs Keltie to come along, the need for her balance to be there. He feels off, something unbalanced between his heart and his brain, and he can't quite figure out what it is. Either way, Brendon knows that the clarity of it all comes to him when he has Ryan and Keltie with him.

"I can't, babe," she says sadly, with a shake of her head. "I have a lot of promotional work that I have to get done for the DVD and I've also signed up to teach some classes at the studio. It's just…maybe near the end or something?"

Brendon sighs and leans back against the couch, eyes focused on the television in Ryan's living room. He doesn't want to hear about how she can't be with them. He wants to hear how she can be with them, how she will be with them.

He feels her body heat wrap around him, her face tucked inside the crook of his neck. "I'll miss you," she confesses in the form of a whisper.

"I'll miss you, too."

He'll miss her more than anything. He'll miss waking up in the morning to the tickle of her hair against his neck. He'll miss her laughs when Ryan rolls his eyes at his stupid jokes.

"We still have the VMA's to go to," Keltie suggests, her hand gripping around a fistful of t-shirt.

Brendon closes his eyes and tries not to think about flashing lights.

* * *

It was Pete's idea to get the fifteen passenger van.

Brendon kind of thinks it's ingenious of him. Ryan thinks he's trying to be an ass.

"Why couldn't he just suggest a limo like everyone else?" Ryan asks to no one in particular, climbing into the van and settling in-between Keltie and Brendon.

"Because his goal in life is to piss you off," Jon concludes, and everyone erupts into a cacophony of laughter.

Brendon chuckles and buries his laugh on Ryan's shoulder, his eyes peering up at him. He continues to smile until Ryan's lips break into a grin, and Brendon looks down to feel Ryan's long finger hook against Brendon's pinkie.

A part of Brendon doesn't want to be there, but he knows that it's a part of his job. It's a part of being a 'celebrity' to separate from the people you've come with and to make appearances with nosy newscasters wanting to find out about the next details of your career choices. Brendon's tired of answering the same things over and over again, and he's even more tired of being trapped in this idea that he's single.

When they settle inside of the studio, Brendon frowns at the setup. He looks over at Keltie sitting next to his left and Ryan to his right, and takes a calming breath.

There aren't cameras flashing at them right now. There's no one asking questions about their personal lives. Brendon feels safe.

* * *

Keltie leaves three days before Ryan and Brendon.

Brendon holds onto her, closing his eyes and trying to memorize her with all of his senses. He tries not to think about the feet fluttering around them, the sounds of the echoing noises of the airport. He doesn't think about how someone could see them and it would be over.

He holds on tight.

"Brendon," Keltie says softly, pulling back from his grip, and furrowing her eyebrows in concern. She cups the side of his face, and tilts her head. "What's the matter?"

Brendon shakes his head, and clears his mind before plastering his famous smile and grabs at her hips pulling her closer. "Nothing," he whispers, against her lips before quickly kissing her. "I'm just going to miss you."

"I'm coming down to see you both by the time you reach Florida," Keltie assures him, her eyes searching over his face as she brushes his hair. She knows he loves it when she does that to him, knows it relaxes him. Brendon secretly falls in love with her all over again because she knows those tiny things. "I'll be around so much you won't even know what to do with me."

"I can think of a few things," Brendon murmurs huskily, leaning closer and pressing his lips to Keltie's again. She giggles a little before he connects to her mouth, sticky with lip gloss. Brendon typically complains about the accessory, but now he doesn't care. The feeling is familiar and Brendon is desperate to reach for something to memorize, something to take with him and reflect.

He feels Ryan tapping a couple of times on his shoulder, fingers wrapping around him and gently pulling him away. Brendon flutters his eyes open and look into Ryan's gaze, which is soft and cautious. He knows what he's telling him, and Brendon's vision focuses over Ryan's shoulder at Zack, who isn't looking at any of them, only at the crowd around. Suddenly they're all alone, so very alone, and the world is running rapid amongst them.

When Brendon pulls away from Keltie, he feels a shudder travel down his spine, and a sudden urge to run as fast as he can to the other side of the terminal grows in him. He looks down at his flip-flop clad feet, bites his lip to suppress the sudden need to scream as loud as he can.

"Brendon," Ryan says softly, and Brendon's neck jerks up to two pairs of eyes looking at him intently. He sees Keltie's eyebrows crease together, her head tilt to the side, the grin that was once on her face fading. He sees Ryan eyes searching and dissecting, his face stoic.

Brendon hums noncommittally, his eyes trailing off to look at the sky over Keltie's shoulder. It's clear and blue, nothing obstructing the view of the birds soaring against it. He continues to focus on it, thinking about how he wishes he felt like that right now, at this very moment, free and undefined.

"Hey asshole," Ryan says again, shoving his shoulder into Brendon's. Brendon blinks a couple of times and looks back at Ryan again, raising his eyebrows. "Keltie was talking to you."

"Oh, sorry. What's up, babe?" Brendon says, attempting to sound normal, like him, but he knows he doesn't and he knows that nothing he can do will save him from how he feels at that moment.

Keltie doesn't say anything for a moment, and walks over wrapping one arm around Brendon and the other around Ryan, pulling them both to her chest. She kisses both of their cheeks, her arms squeezing once before pulling back slightly.

"I love you," she whispers, her eyes roving between them.

"Love you too," Ryan replies easily with a grin. It's so easy, and it rolls off his tongue. Keltie is still looking at him with warmth and happiness, her fingers threading through Brendon's hair, and once again, she's pulling them together, blending them into one.

Brendon wishes they could fly away right then and forget about the rest of the world and about time.

* * *

Brendon realizes quickly that he doesn't want to be on tour.

It's not the crowds-they have been nothing but amazing and absolutely mind blowing. It's the ache that's continuously growing inside of him, the one that he feels when he wakes up in the morning and hears Ryan whisper for him to get up. It's the hiding, the caution, the metaphorical finger over the lips that makes Brendon wonder why he's doing any of this at all.

He's not Ryan, someone who can pour his emotions out into strips of paper. He doesn't get writers block when his emotions take over because he's breaking down inside. Brendon's life is music, and his love for it shows whenever he plays. But his urge to move on, to move forward is dissipating and he can feel it whenever the lights flash over his face night after night.

Brendon wants to give away everything he has to everyone out there, give them what he can. But he can't, and even as everyone exits the stage, Brendon finds himself staggering behind. He looks around, and smiles bright, smiles because that's what he knows he's suppose to do. But even through all of the euphoria and the sweat on his skin, his feet falter.

He watches as Ryan stops, looks around carefully until he sees Brendon standing there quietly. He stops and smiles, and their eyes connecting for a moment, and Brendon feels his heart shake inside of his chest. He misses this feeling, the completeness, the sense that everything is just right.

"You alright?" Brendon blinks a couple of times, and looks over to see Jon standing next to him, his hand resting on his shoulder and squeezing slightly.
`
Brendon clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, why?"

"You looked like you were a million miles away. Come on," Jon wraps his arm around Brendon's neck, and pulls him close. "Brendon Urie, tonight is the night."

Brendon begins to walk in stride with Jon, and chuckles. "Tonight is the night for what?"

"Celebration, my friend, celebration."

"Well, what are we celebrating, Jon Walker?"

Jon shrugs, a smile spreading on his face as he pulls Brendon closer. "The fuck if I know, but you look like you need a few beers, and I've got a bet with Marshall that the lead singer of Dashboard is a lightweight."

Brendon snorts and shakes his head. "You're evil, Jon."

Jon releases Brendon and shrugs. "I may be that, but you're the first person I turn to when it comes to my debauchery."

"Are you quoting Beckett?"

Jon scoffs, "You kidding? He got that vocabulary from me."

Brendon laughs and when he looks back up to find Ryan, he's gone.

* * *

When Brendon least expects it, Ryan is always there.

Jon won the bet with Marshall, having found that Chris was, in fact, a bit of a lightweight. He opted to leave the festivities early, and Brendon watches as Jon carefully opens his palm and Marshall rolls his eyes to relieve a 50 dollar bill from his wallet.

"Don't mess with the best," Jon muses, and Brendon laughs with a shake of his head.

"He's so full of shit," Brendon says with a nod of his head towards Jon. "Clearly, he thinks he's a master of it all."

"Clearly you don't know Jon Walker."

Brendon turns around, and he almost drops the beer in his hand. He sees Ryan standing near, close, so close, and he almost loses his breath. Ryan's eyes trail over Brendon's mouth, his eyes darkening as he takes a deep breath.

Ryan's eyes flicker up to Brendon's. "Have a smoke with me?"

Whenever Ryan looks at him like that, Brendon always says yes.

They step outside, and Brendon looks up to the night sky. It's flickered with tiny stars, all shimmering with the moon. Brendon leans against the brick wall, not quite drunk yet, but buzzed enough to need a place to lean against. He hears the clinking noise of Ryan's cigarette, and glances over as Ryan takes a long drag, the smoke billowing around both of them like a fog.

Ryan reaches out and allows Brendon to take it from him. He takes a drag, the sudden craving for nicotine sinking in, and closes his eyes, enjoying the roughness against his lungs and throat.

"You miss her," Ryan notes solemnly, and Brendon's eyes flash open.

"You do too," he counters.

Ryan nods, and walks over to Brendon, bracing his hands on both sides of his head. He leans close, his lips brushing against Brendon's cheek. Brendon's eyes flutter a little, and he expends a long breath, one that he hadn't realized he was holding. He can smell Ryan's cologne, musky and soft, the staleness of the cigarette mixing perfectly with it.

"Do you know how sexy you looked tonight?" Ryan whispers against Brendon's neck, his tongue flicking out over the pulsing vein. Brendon breathes shallowly, his fingers unable to hold the cigarette any longer. Ryan pulls back and looks at Brendon again, his pupils wide.

Brendon swallows, and sighs, looking over Ryan's shoulder, the giggles of other patrons in the late night city echoing with the ring of glasses colliding together. "We shouldn't-I mean, you know," Brendon stutters.

Ryan chuckles darkly, and leans closer. "Since when do you care about what other people think?"

Since you did.

Brendon looks down as Ryan leans closer, and snubs out the cigarette. He rests his hand on Ryan's chest, and pushes him back slightly. "Later," Brendon promises.

Ryan's face flickers with confusion, his eyebrows furrowing just right, and Brendon panics for a brief moment. But as quickly as it is there, it disappears. Ryan looks over his shoulder as though he's making sure that their behavior went unnoticed and it makes Brendon's chest constrict.

"You're right," he says softly and nods his head towards the club again. "We should get back inside before everyone wonders what the fuck happens to us."

Brendon follows quietly.

* * *

That night when Brendon and Ryan fuck, he wishes that the whole world could hear their moans instead of just the walls around them in the hotel.

* * *

Brendon finally realizes the kind of situation he's living in during a radio interview.

It was only a simple question, a question that had been asked so many times before, before being the operative word. Before he was a part of their world, before there were extra letters lingering in the air when only two names were spoken.

Brendon never expected his name to be the elephant in the room. He never wanted to be compromised either, and he feels it as Ryan leans over and talks about how his girlfriend understands about him being on tour.

"She's really supportive and does whatever she can to actually visit on the road 'cause it does get hard sometimes being alone and stuff."

Brendon's cheeks begin to burn. He wants to stand up and scream at the top of his lungs that he's involved too, and that she's just as much his as she is Ryan's. He wants to tell the DJ that he's a fucking idiot, and that he doesn't understand things like Ryan does and that Ryan is never lonely on tour, just a little lost with a phantom limb. Sad, but never fucking lonely.

Brendon looks down at his hands forming fists, and he can feel Ryan's eyes on him. It takes Spencer nudging him roughly to bring Brendon back to life when the DJ asks him a similar question.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Brendon asks politely.

"Oh don't worry about it dude," the DJ says, and Brendon takes a deep controlled breath to maintain the same nonchalant attitude that the host has. "I was just wondering if you were on the look out for anyone special right now."

Brendon's hands are shaking. He's bobbing his leg in tune with the angry shiver, and his lips thin involuntarily, but he forces the smile, all of the muscles in his face hurting as he does it. "No, not really, actually," he says and he knows that his voice sounds stiff and strained. He can hear it in his ears and it's begging for release. He steals a glance over at Ryan, praying to see some sort of ache, suffering, need, something.

He looks completely normal.

When the interview is over and everyone gets in the van, Brendon practically sits in Spencer's lap. Spencer looks at Brendon like he has lost all of his marbles, as though he had a moment of temporary amnesia and has forgotten that Spencer is, in fact, Spencer Smith and not Ryan Ross. Brendon knows though, and shakes his head when Ryan comes closer to the van with Jon, laughing happily about something. His face falls however, when he notices Brendon hovered away at the window, Spencer planted next to him.

His hands shake the whole way back to the hotel.

Part Two