To a lot of people, 4 years wasn't much. And it kind of wasn't, but Brendon and Ryan took forever for every aspect of their relationship, so the four years actually together and in an established romance felt like something lifelong. In all fairness, Ryan had already felt like he'd known Brendon forever, like, three months into their initial friendship anyway, so maybe it was just the fact that they clicked so easily that erased any life without him. Regardless it seemed like they were invincible now, like no trouble could come to them the way it came to other people. Other couples cheated or lied or got bored of each other. On the contrary, some days, Ryan didn't want to sleep, 'cause more time awake meant more time with Brendon. So he was virtually the same as he was when he first met Brendon.

That said, they were invincible now rather than always just because things weren't always perfect. First there was the issue of struggling to tell everyone/not tell everyone when they finally did end up together after eight months of skirting around each other as carefully as possible. Then, and far worse, they split up; both of them, so young, were naturally afraid of the commitment that came with dating someone they were so indescribably in love with, but Brendon was the one to break it off. Thankfully it took a very small amount of time for both of them to realize that was such a silly fear to have, and Gabe Carrasco masterminded the two of them conveniently being thrown into the same party. Which Ryan of course still thanked him for to this day - God knows he'd never have gathered up the courage himself to call Brendon after convincing himself that he really wouldn't want to get back together. Then four years would never have happened.

It was really their biggest obstacle thus far. You'd have thought the band's split would've affected them, too; as a matter of fact, Ryan came to terms with it fairly easily. Why be mad? Their music tastes were changing, and all of them - even some fans - knew it. And it's not like they could grow apart so easily, like other groups had been prone to do. Spencer was his closest and longest term friendship, they barely lived a neighborhood away to this day. Jon seconded that, and expressed a desire to join him on whatever his next musical endeavor was. And, of course, he was dating Brendon, planning to do so for as long as he could - no doubt making more music together would come with that. The split wasn't even definite, anyway, in that everyone would be in the touring band - it's just that they wouldn't all be making the music itself. Nothing wrong with a little more freedom.

Aside from the setbacks and not-so-setbacks, life was ideal. Brendon had changed him into someone he never thought he'd be. When Ryan was just getting big and he was leaping between girlfriends (or, for a while there, one girlfriend who threw him for a loop every now and then and he did the same right back), he didn't see himself staying with someone in a stable affair for longer than half a year. He didn't see himself falling asleep in the same bed with the same person every night with assigned 'sides' each. He didn't think he'd ever have someone on his mind constantly, every decision made based around whether or not he would be able to keep Brendon in his life at the same level or higher. And he especially didn't expect to ever move in with someone, share all his belongings and all his space and his memories and his love, celebrating anniversary after anniversary and spending holidays with Brendon and getting dogs that were both equally theirs. God, life was weird now. Weird and wonderful.

Safe to say, then, that he'd never been happier, and when Brendon mysteriously took him on a drive just before their four year anniversary that involved a lot of familiar sights, he knew he was in for a trip to the famed cabin they'd shared their first kiss at. He could still remember it so clearly. Brendon showing him a song that coincidentally almost mirrored their situation, then the move to take off his glasses that turned into an empassioned kiss in the rain, and - most importantly, Ryan thought - the 'I think I'm in love with you.' When he later shrilly told the whole story to Spencer, a la 80's teen movie best friends on cord phones, Spencer told him it was 'so unprofessional' and he was 'totally making a mistake' and 'this could cost us the band, you know,' but also 'that's super fucking cute, you deserve each other.' Anyway he was right about it being unprofessional, but very wrong about the 'mistake' part. And the band ended for other reasons, so ha.

This time at the cabin it was just them, though, and there was no work to be done, so this were much more carefree. The songs they played together were played for fun, purely for the sound, and they weren't stressing over deadlines or the presence of other bandmates who might 'catch' them. The one day they'd already spent was mostly by the lake they'd first kissed at, either sharing the same affection or on their respective guitars, or inside curled together on the couch while the night temperature gradually dropped. After spending the past few months of Brendon and Spencer having to run around talking about the split (and trying to change the topic back to something more important, like their upcoming music) and Ryan and Jon building schedules around their limited studio time, the break was welcome. Well, it always would've been; as a matter of fact most of what Ryan did now was geared towards the ultimate goal of being able to spend all his time in a place like this with Brendon.

It was their second day, evening and alit only by the light of the moon and more visible rural stars. Ryan was lazily laid out on the grass, knees up and guitar on his chest and fingers strumming absently every now and then, with Brendon a little ways away, only just close enough to feel his presence close by. "Four years," he mumbled to the sky over the gentle sound of his guitar, probably the 500th time he'd said it since they got here. "You know, it's just you. I would never have done this, not with anyone but you." He smiled distantly, gaze still fixed on an array of stars above. He turned his head to look at Brendon, fingers slowing on the strings, and repeated another phrase he'd probably said way too much already: "Happy anniversary, baby. And happy anniversary of Holy Spaces, I guess."

Needless to say, Brendon’s life had changed in the last four years more than he could ever imagine, in sense of both his career (he had experienced the kind of growth in popularity in a few short years that most musicians tended to earn in a decade or so) and his love life (though they hadn’t been together for five years, even when they broke up he had never fallen out of love). Looking back on it, it was almost disorientating; he’d come so far, done so much, and now he was already thinking about the future, having only just achieved the present. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Ryan, and not make the same mistake of spooking in the face of commitment. Once, ‘forever and always’ had been daunting- now it sounded like a dream, the one thing he wanted to do was spend his time, as much time as possible, with the only man he has ever and will ever love. He wanted to wake up next to the same face every morning, he wanted to play on stage with the same guitarist to his right, he wanted to fall asleep beside the same man every night. No doubt was in his mind that Ryan felt the same, but Brendon had been thinking recently, he wanted their relationship to be ‘strengthened’ made ‘permanent’ in a sense- he wanted to get married.

It was definitely a huge next step, and Brendon had spent many a night lying and wondering whether it was too soon, was four years not enough, were they too young to ‘tie the knot’- and after that, he came to the easy conclusion that yes, he was ready, he wanted to call his soulmate his husband, he wanted to have a wedding, and he wanted to share the same surname (and, by the way, there was no way he was being ‘Brendon Ready’). The only problem was that he had to propose- and even for Brendon, typically confident and charming, hardly anything phasing him, that was daunting. First of all, he would be making himself vulnerable, and however sure he was that Ryan would say yes, there was always a chance he would say no, he wasn’t ready, and then the rest of their stay at the cabin would be awkward. Speaking of the cabin, the venue of choice was no mistake. This was where they’d fallen in love, or at least realised that they had, and by the like was where they’d first kissed, and walking into rooms, he remembered many nights sneaking eachother in and out- the nostalgia ached, but in a good way. He was reminded of a time where they were younger (not by much, but still) and when the band was still together, and when that had been the happiest time of his life.

It was still an unbelievably strong and fond memory, but he had made more. Getting shared dogs, writing new songs, making new friends, moving in together, everything that came with it. And he was hoping to make a stronger one now. He thought the memories that the lake and the shore and the grass and the stars invoked in him would offer some confidence, some reassurance, but instead it made him more nervous, almost immobilised by the love that swelled up his heart. Five years ago, he’d never have thought he’d be here- because five years ago Ryan didn’t even know he existed and Brendon was just an overenthusiastic fan of a young, relatively successful band with a genius lyricist (not self-described). Then the lead singer had picked him out of a moderately sized crowd and he’d impressed him with his vocals, and now five years later, like some bad romance movie, they were back to the place where they really began, and Brendon had plans to propose. It was surreal. He had to stop and think about it, and once he started, his thoughts kind of drifted away from the present.

Four years. Brendon turned his head, as if surprised Ryan was still there, but then he smiled, and thought excellent observation, baby. But he said nothing in response right away, just observed, eyeing Ryan’s beloved mint Stratocaster and watching his hands play lazily over the strings. Guitarist’s hands- obviously. Brendon blinked, and propped himself up on his elbows, still looking over in his boyfriend’s direction. ”Yeah. Crazy, right?” God, He was so nervous, that was all he could get out. His hand subconsciously went to his pocket as he sat up, while the other moved to card through his hair. You know, it’s just you. I would never have done this, not with anyone but you. Brendon felt a little faint, because Brendon knew what he meant and the surge of affection he felt was dizzying. ”I know how you feel,” He said softly, crossing his legs to sit and turning his body to face Ryan’s. ”Imagine if I’d been a terrible singer- Then you wouldn’t have wanted to see me that night. This would never have happened.”

The thought was amusing- both of Brendon being a bad singer and the ridiculous concept where they hadn’t fallen in love. He smiled, just as Ryan played over the strings again. Happy anniversary, baby. ”Yeah, happy anniversary. Here’s to another- I don’t know, forever?” Till death do us part- Brendon felt jittery with nerves again, and he needed some kind of output to calm down. His eyes rested on Ryan’s guitar. He had left his own inside. And happy anniversary to Holy Spaces, I guess. That gave Brendon an idea. He shifted closer, leaned over Ryan and moved a hand to tangle gently in his hair, before moving in to kiss him, feeling himself relax and his heart show. But he was still desperately nervous- as well as excited. Tentatively, he moved back, and wrapped a hand around the neck of Ryan’s guitar, smiling sheepishly because Ryan never let anybody use his guitar and Brendon had never asked before.

”Baby,” He said, in an almost sing-song voice, ”Can I play your guitar?” Immediately he could sense the protectiveness that Ryan had for his favourite instrument, and grinned, leaning over again skilfully to kiss any protest away, pulling the guitar gently but firmly from his grasp while he was distracted and then shifting away, triumphant. ”Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” He reassured him, biting his lip to concentrate for a second before slinging the strap over his shoulder and getting comfortable. He played a few strings to test the tune and then decided it was already tuned enough (he couldn’t be bothered to be more specific), before starting to play the Holy Spaces intro, only singing the first part. ”You remind me of a former love that I once knew...” He fell off after that, slowing on the strings, and he grinned, feeling his heartbeat steady a little more. Brendon exhaled. It was going to be fine.

A natural overthinker anyway, Ryan had, of course, considered where this relationship might be leading. What was more bizarre was the fact that he'd thought about it much, much more in the beginning, when he really shouldn't have been entertaining such fantasies so early on... and then over time he convinced himself to calm down about it all, that he'd just freak out Brendon if he ever figured out how much Ryan dreamt about them in some 'domestic bliss' situation. It didn't bother him to keep it to himself, anyway - 'cause everyone else waited way longer, right? So if everyone else was spending, like, five years or more to get married, then he could wait that long. Maybe. Some days he got a little antsy about the matter, tired of saying 'boyfriend' when he could be saying 'fiance' or 'husband.' Or he saw a ring in a window and had to resist the urge to buy it, or a picture of the perfect wedding venue... yeah, best to keep that all to himself.

The picture in his head was more than just all of that, though. The legalities of it all, without being objectively romantic, sure, but they were unifying anyway, renting an apartment together and sharing a post code and joining bank accounts, all that boring adult shit he'd never seen himself doing. The difference was that now he trusted someone - now he wanted to be with someone forever, and Brendon was somehow that person despite being the craziest motherfucker he'd ever met. Endearingly so, at least. Those things aside, he just knew he'd be more secure in having that written bond with Brendon beyond their current promise to each other. Which was, admittedly, basically law to him, but still - they'd started with an impulse kiss and Ryan awkwardly asking if he could call Brendon his boyfriend now. Yeah, one of them asking the other to marry them in some extravagant display (or not-so-extravagant - Ryan wasn't picky) was probably better than that.

Thankfully, Brendon never made fun of how dumb Ryan tended to be, including whenever he repeated the same obvious observation five hundred times (but he was still in shock over the anniversary of his most successful relationship). Yeah. Crazy, right? His gaze shifted briefly over, studying the way Brendon looked propped up on his elbows, somehow modelesque without trying. Didn't even matter that he provided an equally uninteresting response. I know how you feel. Ryan smiled to himself while Brendon turned towards him, attention moving back to the sky, his expression far calmer. Imagine if I’d been a terrible singer- Then you wouldn’t have wanted to see me that night. This would never have happened. "Hey, that's -" Ryan paused. All right, so Brendon was cute and he'd totally check him out if he'd only just seen him at the meet and greet or whatever, but the only reason he'd violated his own 'no dating fans' rule was 'cause Brendon got into the band first anyway.

Ryan arched an eyebrow, caving. "'kay, you're right. Damn, the universe was really looking out for us." And had been all along. Althought that sort of implied Gabe was a force of the universe... well, that wasn't wrong, either. Yeah, happy anniversary. Here’s to another- I don’t know, forever? Ryan laughed softly, pure enthusiasm, and raised the neck of his guitar slightly as if it was a drink he was preparing to clink against Brendon's. Moments later, Brendon was leaning over him, and Ryan had to suppress a grin while Brendon's fingers drew through his hair just in case it could interrupt a long-awaited kiss. Miraculously he didn't, naturally pressing his hand gently against Brendon's chest when their lips met and he remained hovering above Ryan.

Baby, can I play your guitar? At the initial sing-song, Ryan's eyes rolled a little at his expert level schmoozing but he still loosened his grip on his guitar anyway. Ryan may be possessive over this one in particular, but Brendon could take his life savings for all he cared. Still, though, part of him was still reluctant from how beyond attached he was to it, and he couldn't quite pry his fingertips off the strings - or hide the twinge of worry he accidentally conveyed. Brendon kissed him again and he melted into it, barely noticing when the instrument was pulled from his hands. "Sneaky," he accused softly, muffled against his lips, but didn't protest. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. Ryan reached up to brush the pad of his thumb over Brendon's chin just as he bit his lip, evidently caught in thought, and conveniently forgot all about his concerns.

Ryan was watching him instead of the stars now, a small smile stuck to his face while he tuned away. You remind me of a former love that I once knew... "And you carry a little piece with you," he sang quietly, less tunefully and more like he was half-speaking. Anyway, seemed like Brendon wasn't all that committed to the song, judging by the gradually slower instrumental. Truthfully he was pretty distracted, only joining in out of reflex; his hand was drifting through Brendon's hair at this point, really just brushing flyaways down and smoothing down the little hairs framing Brendon's face endearingly. "Never heard this song before." Ryan laughed a bit, his hand dropping and gaze shifting back to the sky above.

They had started and then ended briefly in a way that was completely unconventional- Brendon had been a fan of Ryan’s band, the bearer of a recently developed crush, and Ryan had, by mere chance, thrust the mic in his direction at a show and Brendon had taken him aback by his astounding vocals, incredible to the point of being more suited to the confidence of the lyrics than Ryan’s softer voice was. From that, they became bandmates, and friends, and in the following eight months of weakly suppressed mutual pining, the two of them fell in love, a realisation that only came to light at a cabin in the middle of the mountains, beside a smallish lake, miles away from anything. It had been an evening, Brendon had been absorbed in his thoughts and his writing, which both linked constantly back to Ryan. Ryan had followed him out after a while and they had sat together by the lake for barely half an hour before Brendon was kissing him, Ryan was kissing back, Brendon had breathed out confessions of love and Ryan had almost instantly returned them.

The memory made him lightheaded with affection and they always lead on to memories from the rest of their stay at the cabin; getting caught in the rain, sneaking back inside into Ryan’s room and just getting comfortable under the blankets, spending hours just tangled together, completely unproductive and completely in love, referring to eachother both aloud and in their heads as my boyfriend, my lover, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. It was genuine and passionate, and it never went away- but they had rushed in, and Brendon panicked at the prospect of committment so early in his life and got cold feet from ‘forever and always’. Now, it was the opposite- he wanted that, more than anything, he wanted to be able to call Ryan his fiancé and then his husband, wanted to have matching surnames, wanted everything that came with marriage, the romance and the binding legalities. Brendon was almost as in love with love as he was with Ryan- for months he had been thinking about tuxedos and venues and decor and flowers and a wedding song. He was yet to write one, but his excitement for the death of his bachelor life was dominating the forefront of his mind. He only hoped Ryan felt the same.

He couldn’t imagine life without him anymore. Those couple of months apart had been a wake up call- Ryan was somebody he wanted and needed in his life, his soulmate, however cliche it was. That was obvious from when they ran into eachother again the first time, at one of Gabe’s famous parties. Gabe, the puppet master, had probably orchestrated the whole thing- they had most likely predicted that the two of them would get tipsy and Brendon would lose his filter and Ryan would lose his common sense and general apprehension for everything. They ended up making out in the kitchen and getting back together on that very night, admitting that neither of them had ever fallen out of love with the other. And here they were, years later, nothing had changed. It seemed they were in a perpetual honeymoon phase and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Still, it was funny to think- what if Brendon hadn’t been talented at all? Had completely fallen flat on Build God? Hey, that’s - ‘kay, you’re right.

”Wow. You’re not meant to agree with me,” He retorted, grinning. Damn, the universe was really looking out for us. Brendon nodded idly. He wasn’t sure whether he believed in fate- he believed in love, and they had fallen in love; it wasn’t the universe, but maybe it was luck. If they’d never met, would Brendon feel like this about someone else? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t waste time thinking too much about it. They were together, their future was certain, that was all that mattered to him. Ha grinned, though, as Ryan tilted up the neck of his guitar, still preoccupied with keeping his nerves under his control and his overdrive heart from going too fast. Exhaling, he decided to make his new concentration Ryan’s guitar, and quickly moved in to achieve his goal, prying the instrument gently away from his boyfriend’s hands, distracting him with a dizzyingly gentle kiss. Sneaky. Ryan was looking at him like that again, and Brendon was almost overwhelmed. They were honestly ridiculous. He successfully resisted the strong urge to kiss him again, and sat back, instead, strumming idly in the strings for a few moments before kicking right off into a relaxed rendition of Holy Spaces.

And you carry a little piece with you. These days, Ryan singing, even half-singing, was a rare pleasure he was able to experience, so he looked sort of dreamy and faltered as Ryan reached up to run his hands through his hair, leaning in and letting his eyelids fall, leaning in to kiss him briefly again. Never heard this song before. Brendon laughed, shrugging his shoulders, and drummed his fingers against the body of the guitar. ”I just thought it up now, y’like it?” Brendon placed Ryan’s prized possession aside, to his left, with Ryan lying down on his right. He turned, lying on his side close to Ryan, tangling a leg with Ryan’s and moving to brush his fingers through his hair. ”I can’t believe it’s been so long. Fuck, I love you. So much.” His voice was soft, but serious, and he reached into his pocket for the ring with his free hand, just to remind himself of the goal here. ”Since our little mishap, I haven’t once considered sharing my life with anybody else. You’re the one I wanna be with, for as long as you’ll have me,” Brendon’s voice was amazingly gentle for someone usually so excitable. For once in his life, he was genuinely nervous. Enamoured, he stopped mid-speech and leaned in yet again, kissing him, trailing off from his lips to the side of his mouth down to his jawline, one hand tangled in Ryan’s hair, the other splayed against his chest.

Wow. You’re not meant to agree with me. Ryan laughed, shrugging as best he could against the grass. It was the truth, although he had little doubt in his mind that the universe might have drawn them together in some manner anyway if Brendon's hypothetical scenario had been true. Maybe Ryan would've stopped him at a signing after the show just because Brendon could get away with it, he was that cute. Or if they got a picture together he'd run through Instagram tags to find where he'd posted it, contact him. Honestly, as far and away as these other potential meetings could get, all seemed plausible. As perfect for each other as they seemed to be in Ryan's mind, it was unlikely they could have ever ended up in a place other than with each other. There were very few things he had confidence about, but their relationship was something he was certain of.

Brendon drawing him in to all these kisses was fairly unprecedented, given that he was beyond boring in this most serene mood, but welcome. Ryan chased a little after each, tilting his chin up and just barely lifting from the ground. I just thought it up now, y’like it? He laughed again, warm. "You're cute," he observed, tilting to watch as Brendon laid next to him (and, Ryan noticed gratefully, took great care to set down the guitar). His smile turned more fond when Brendon tangled up with him, fingers passing through his hair comfortingly, and he extended his own arm to cushion Brendon's head. I can’t believe it’s been so long. Ryan nodded a bit, a silent 'I know' playing on his lips. Fuck, I love you. So much. For no reason at all, Ryan suddenly felt a little lost for words, and his somewhat stunned expression reflected that. His lips remained parted for a few moments before he blinked at Brendon, realizing he'd sort of been staring as if he hung the stars. "I love you, too." Naturally, his voice was equally gentle, always mirroring Brendon's.

Since our little mishap, I haven’t once considered sharing my life with anybody else. Ryan grinned again, briefly, amused by the wise choice of words. That's really all it'd been, anyway; a mishap. He remembered being at that party, the exact moment he realised neither of them had actually ever wanted to be apart. Just a mistake, the shortest-lived lapse of judgment. It bothered him for a long time, but looking back, he was glad that he hadn't argued or fought with Brendon over initially wanting to break up - if he tried to convince Brendon that commitment wasn't that scary, or something, who knows how they would've turned out? Hearing him out on his fears and respecting them meant that both of them got some time to themselves to really consider whether being together was the right thing to do. So it was a setback, sure, but they grew from it, and Ryan thought that without it, they wouldn't know for certain like they do now - and they probably wouldn't be lying out here, stuck in the moment.

You’re the one I wanna be with, for as long as you’ll have me. Ryan's eyes were practically glittering, completely enchanted by Brendon's words. He was easy, sure, but Brendon was naturally charming like that, anyway. Something was a little off, though - not necessarily in a bad way, but Ryan couldn't help but notice how gentle Brendon was being, how uncharacteristic he was acting. Maybe this was the effect of the cabin, the nostalgia. Weird, Ryan never pegged him to be so crushingly sentimental. Either way he didn't fit in a response before Brendon was leaning in again, and Ryan held the back of his head while they kissed, laughing softly against his skin when Brendon's attention moved to his jaw instead. "Forever," he answered meaningfully, closing his eyes, hand going slack against Brendon's neck. "I'll be with you forever."

He pressed his lips to Brendon's neck briefly, feeling calm as ever. The difference wasn't quite shocking enough to raise concern, anyway. "Thought I was the writer," he joked, falling back to look at Brendon again, a smile permanently on his face now. "Everything okay? Has coming back here made you softer?" A slight laugh touched his voice, 'cause he was sure in a couple hours or less Brendon would be rampant again.

Brendon was an affectionate person anyway, and in a very physical way, usually, but in this instance, his behaviour was somewhat unusual. He was normally a lot more assured, confident- with Ryan now, by the lake, overwhelmed by much more nostalgia than he thought he’d have, he was more gentle, almost hesitant. Their relationship was a dynamic one- Brendon generally commanded and demanded attention, while returning it generously, and the next moment it was all verbal, the two usually competent lyricists struggling to find words that fit eachother because in their eyes, there were no words that could describe how they felt. Ryan probably came the closest, the more literate and talented in that department out of the two of them; whereas Brendon preferred to communicate by action. That’s why they accelerated from serenity to intensity in very brief periods of time; not only did Brendon grow antsy fast, but he felt the need to show his affections in a less conventional way than just saying I love you.

Here, though, that wouldn’t be right- there was something very important that Brendon needed to ask that couldn’t be conveyed through anything physical. It was a question, dominating the forefront of his mind, and when he initially thought about even asking, he never anticipated it to be this nerveracking. Luckily, Ryan was obviously oblivious, so he could pretend everything was normal, that he was just feeling a little extra loving tonight due to the nostalgia and the memories, not like he intended to ask his boyfriend to marry him. God, he was nervous again. Anxious energy and pent-up excitement was welling inside of him- he felt like he was going to blurt it out with no warning, but also like he was going to back out at the last moment out of nerves and just cancel the whole idea, just brush it off and go back into the cabin and forget it ever happened. Both weren’t very favourable options, so he held his tongue, just smiled quite distantly as Ryan shrugged his shoulders.

You’re cute. Brendon just blinked, enamoured and too distracted to formulate sentences- he exhaled and lay down in the grass beside him, turning on his side to face his immensely chilled out boyfriend and wasting no time in tangling together with him, slotting his legs between Ryan’s. Maybe they could just nap out by the lake- he felt a sudden sense of drowsiness that came from the peaceful atmosphere, Ryan’s uncharacteristically ultra-serene current energy slowing his heart down just a little. At least he could now speak without the worry of blurting out a half-assed marriage proposal. ”You’re gorgeous,” Brendon replied, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to argue. His complimenting Ryan session never seemed to end, and the swell of love he felt inside his chest was clouding his coherent thought, to the point where his only functioning mental direction was propose to Ryan. Again, Brendon had to tell himself to calm the fuck down. I love you, too. Brendon knew that- but did Ryan really know how much he meant to him? Sometimes he was sort of awful at showing it- he knew he could be bratty and difficult and irritating and extra and way too much, and he loved Ryan with all of his heart, but those traits meant that sometimes it didn’t show through.

Since he had regained control over his voice, succeeding in steadying his tone and his head now clear and driven, he moved on. He wanted it to happen as soon as possible. He wanted to know what it was like to be somebody’s fiancé. He listened to the gentle lilt of Ryan’s warm laugh and moved briefly down to nestle his head in Ryan’s chest, closing his eyes to listen to his heartbeat. It must have been so strange to Ryan- Brendon wasn’t typically much of a cuddler, and yet out of nowhere he was being gentle and almost clingy. Ryan likely thought he had died and gone to heaven- that’s how Brendon intended to make him feel. Forever. There was a promise in that word, and Brendon silently returned it. I’ll be with you forever. ”I know,” He murmured softly, lifting his head again, moving back to his jaw and tangling his hand into Ryan’s hair gently. Brendon didn’t need to get married to have complete surety that they would be together for the rest of their lives. He just wanted to tie the hypothetical knot- for reasons he didn’t have to say, for reasons he was positive Ryan would understand.

Lips pressed against the skin of his neck and he let his eyes flutter closed, ready to relax until Ryan fell back comfortably into the plush carpet of grass. Ryan was grinning, chilled out, in obviously high spirits- he wasn’t going to get a better opportunity than this. Brendon bit his lip. Thought I was the writer. He really was. All of Brendon’s usual charm had drained away and he felt vulnerable, but in the best way- he was going to ask the man he loved more than anything to marry him, there was no better vulnerability than love. Brendon just shrugged in response, and fell back to where he had been lying beside him. Everything okay? Has coming back here made you softer? Ryan was laughing, Brendon felt a little faint. His nerves and his more gentle attitude was noticeable. Was that a good thing? He couldn’t think straight. Why was this so hard for him? Get it together, Brendon, he’s onviously going to say yes.

”Maybe,” Was all he managed, but he sat up, his hand reaching down automatically again into his pocket to check for for the fiftieth time that it was still there. ”I- I guess it recently hit me. Forever. It doesn’t scare me anymore.” His eyes were fixed on Ryan and he reached up to brush a hand through his own hair, trying to preoccupy his hands and stop himself fidgeting. ”It’s almost everything I could ever want.”

It was bizarre to see Brendon so strangely quiet and slow, because usually Ryan woud have no way of justifying calling him 'gentle.' He had sweet words and actions plenty of the time but this was different, keeping in pace with the environment around them, as easy as the lake water ripples. It was a change from the norm but Ryan would have appreciated any affection either way - whatever Brendon had to show was, of course, always welcome. Personally Ryan himself was always either painfully obvious or irritatingly subtle. He could show a pitiful weakness for Brendon's general allure one moment, then in the next it was hard for him to find the proper words to express his love for him, and predictably without the right words, Ryan wouldn't want to say anything at all. Thankfully, he'd picked Brendon of all people, and Brendon was about the only person in the entire world who could deal with Ryan's perfectionism and strictness with emotional expression.

Lucky for both of them, Ryan didn't feel any such reservation tonight or even lately - he blamed it on the whole anniversary thing. As it were, anything involving Brendon or him and Brendon together tended to make him a whole lot easier to handle as a person. You’re gorgeous. Ryan raised an eyebrow right back at Brendon, mirroring his daring face, and one corner of his mouth twitched up in amusement. So he heard that kind of thing a lot - along with too many kind words about his eyes, or his height, or his hands, or his voice, or... - but it never ceased to flatter him. That was unbelievably fortunate, really, because he figured if it'd been anyone else, Ryan would get used to being called some variation of 'handsome.' Brendon, though, was breathtaking beyond words, so it was like visiting the Louvre and all of the art just told you how beautiful you were. With a thought like that, Ryan thought maybe he could win this little competition Brendon apparently wanted to have, but he just pursed his lips for a second before letting his smirk break into a grin. "No, you," he murmured, because he thought he was so funny. It was, needless to say, a little out of place amongst all of Brendon's generosity.

Moments later, Brendon's head was against his chest, and Ryan felt this odd sense of attachment from nowhere. He'd never experienced it so strongly before, this need to be as close to him as possible, and he wasn't sure what set the precedent for it - after all they were about as physically close as could be. Ryan wrapped his arms around Brendon in an effort to sate the need, a little taken aback that he was allowed to still when usually Brendon would've protested the cuddling by now, but it wasn't quite enough. Nevertheless Ryan let his eyes fall shut, at peace for once. I know. Thank god. Sometimes Ryan thought maybe he really was too vague for Brendon to realize his worth, but. An 'I know' as assured as that one was what he'd wanted to hear for a long time. He smiled encouragingly before tucking in to the crook of Brendon's shoulder, feeling less and less like two separate entities as time went on, more like one joined soul.

Ryan figured coming back here was what had driven Brendon's new mood, but maybe it was getting to him, too. He hadn't expected his own anxiety about anything and everything to dissipate entirely like it had, nor had he anticipated being patient and not-annoying the whole time they'd been here thus far - usually Ryan fit in at least one pessimistic control-freak episode a day on average (and only a majority of the time was he by himself when it came around). But out here, away from everything bad and with all the good the world had to offer him, things were alright. Maybe. Sounded a little reserved. Ryan shot Brendon a curious look, the joke over, wondering if maybe there really was something up. Brendon was a good actor, though, so if there was something really bad that he was trying to keep to himself, he would be able to. Ryan was likely just imagining things; probably his dumb brain trying to make him worry, as usual, over nothing.

I- I guess it recently hit me. Forever. It doesn’t scare me anymore. Ryan gave him a reassuring look, glad that he was even able to say that - he'd come a long way, and it was still impressive even if a sizable amount of time had passed. "Me, neither," he replied breezily, remembering his own uncertainty, albeit having been in a less significant amount. He watched as Brendon's hand drifted up to run through his hair, and knew this was less of a compulsion than it was a way to keep himself occupied. Maybe admitting that he wasn't afraid was just as scary. Ryan skewed up his face, sympathetic, and then reached out to take his hand instead, entwining their fingers and smoothing his thumb over Brendon's comfortingly. It's almost everything I could ever want.

Originally Ryan assumed that he'd gotten on the subject of 'forever' simply because he'd also happened to bring up their, in Brendon's words, 'mishap,' but now it was going on for a little too long, suspiciously so. Ryan felt a sudden flutter in his stomach despite not quite having put two and two together yet, only stuck on watching the meaningful way Brendon looked at him. This had to be... but probably not. The timing was perfect, the location was perfect, the mood was perfect... but there's no way Brendon was beating him to the chase, was he? Ryan tried to contain the shock/excitement/bewilderment/pure happiness cocktail that was bubbling up in his mind to keep it off of his expression, but maybe a little was showing through. To hide the lovestruck glimmer in his eyes he blinked a few times profusely, attention dropping to Brendon's lips if only to keep from meeting his serious gaze. "I'm glad you say that, baby. I - I dream about it, honestly. 'Forever.'" His nervous-happy smile matched about how silly those words sounded, admitting how often he saw them being all domestic in his sleep, but. As long as they were both being vulnerable, here.

When Brendon had imagined this scenario, he admittedly didn’t take into account the fact that he would be so nervous he struggled to even speak without his voice wavering. He wasn’t scared, per say, but this was huge, this changed everything but also nothing at all. They’d be the same, behave the same- they’d just be able to refer to eachother as husbands, and Ryan’s surname would be Blake. Yeah. There was no way Brendon was becoming ‘Brendon Ready’, and though he doubted Ryan would insist on that, if he did, the wedding was effectively of until Brendon could change his mind. Either way, his heart was racing in his chest, even as he lay comfortably on Ryan’s chest, listening to his own slower, more relaxed heartbeat and hoping it would would steady his own. He felt Ryan’s arms wrap around him and pull him closer, and felt a dizzy rush of attachment, like he was exactly where he was supposed to be and never wanted to move. They could stay there forever, for all he cared, as long as he remained in Ryan’s arms.

No, you. Brendon smiled, turning his face into his chest to hide his grin, a behaviour that was usually attributed to Ryan. ”Very articulate, baby,” He commented softly, letting his eyes fall shut and his face relax. He felt, again, an intense sense of belonging and connection that he didn’t experience a lot- they were always in love, he always felt drawn to him, but overwhelming emotions like these were reserved for passionate moments, or public but intimate actions like Brendon wrapping Ryan graciously in a pride flag, one of many that fans held out for him to take. He always ended up there, both of them draped in it, the image of a cliche, but not really caring and completely in love. Ryan always turned the mic away, said something profound that felt too private, too personal for the fans to hear. And Brendon kissed him, gentle, then reluctantly pulled away when he realised he actually had to sing soon because Dallon was getting impatient and starting to play the bassline of the next song. There was only so much PDA that their fellow bandmates could take- Spencer especially had seen and heard enough at the cabin.

This was similar, but mellower, more peaceful- even if the air was alight with apprehension, they managed to settle, Brendon’s limbs feeling like lead. How the hell was he supposed to do this? A part of him considered cutting the chase and just outright asking with no long-winded lead-up, but then he considered everything he had to say, all the things he felt for Ryan that were so hard to put into words but he was going to give it his best shot. So he broke the comfortable silence with his soft, low voice, being deliberately vague, but not enough so that Ryan was confused. He seemed surprised, but didn’t say anything at first, just listened. Me, neither. Brendon had sat up by then, and though he missed the familiarity of Ryan’s embrace, he knew if he stayed he’d just fall asleep. ”You never were,” He laughed gently, prodding Ryan in the side as Ryan more serenely drifted a hand through Brendon’s hair. ”It was always me, being stupid. I don’t know why I ever thought I didn’t want to spend my entire life with you.”

Ryan then took his hand, another familiar, comforting gesture, and Brendon held on tight as their fingers automatically intertwined. Brendon turned to look at him, meaningfully, words still on his tongue, but he was stopped momentarily, distracted by just searching his gaze, wondering whether he’d caught on yet. Ryan, surprisingly, tended to be the more observant out of the two of them. He moved in suddenly to kiss him, effectively to quell his desire to do so, so he could concentrate. If he didn’t stick to the right think he’d get distracted, and they’d be there all night, waiting for Brendon to find the right words to propose to the love of his entire life. Anyway, he noticed that little glimmer in his honey eyes, and felt his chest tighten- firstly because fuck, his eyes, Brendon wasn’t sure he’d ever get over them, and secondly, Brendon was pretty sure he knew where this was going. No turning back now, he thought- but then, he’d never intended to. Brendon kissed him again, impulsively.

I’m glad you say that, baby. I - I dream about it, honestly. Brendon felt his heart melt a little, but then it had been since they’d first arrived at the cabin when Brendon, who previously thought himself to not be that sentimental about places and memories, was crushed by the weight of the familiarity of the location- particularly the lakeshore, and Ryan’s old room. ”What do you dream about?” He asked tentatively, asking for more clarification. Were they on the same page? ’Forever’. That was telling enough. Brendon inhaled, exhaled, tightened his grip on Ryan’s hand, then shifted a little closer to his boyfriend, deciding that if he didn’t do it now, he’d never get around to it and they really wouldn’t get anywhere. At least he was now pretty sure what Ryan’s answer was going to be.

”I- listen,” Not that he thought Ryan wasn’t. Ryan’s attention was fully on him. ”It’s funny, because, back when we first fell in love here, I would never have thought about doing this.” Brendon swallowed, blinked, managed a smile. ”I thought ‘forever’ was so’- terrifying. Overwhelming. And maybe it is a lot, but I don’t care anymore. I love you, more than anything, you’re the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be than by your side. Forever,” He repeated, and he paused, trying not to smile when he brought his free hand down into his pocket and pulled out what he’d been holding on to for hours- the ring box. Freeing his other hand from Ryan’s, he held his breath, opened it, and then spoke, soft but sure, wholly in love. ”I want you to marry me, darling.”

When Brendon smiled but turned in to hide it, Ryan's hand looped around him followed, brushing his knuckles absently against what of his cheekbone was visible. Pretty difficult to watch that without a fond grin rising to his own features. Very articulate, baby. Yeah, well. Sometimes Ryan even resorted to the classic 'your mom,' and that was just as well received. He looked the same as Brendon relaxed, eyes slipping shut until Ryan thought maybe he would actually fall asleep in this position, and really, he had zero protest about that. Staying up and watching the stars - or just his boyfriend, realistically - with his fingertips running through Brendon's hair, that was ideal. Just in case, Ryan made sure to stay quiet, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before settling back passively.

Moments later, though, he was acting a little odd, but Brendon was pretty odd himself, so he let it be. You never were. Ryan begged to differ. At one point he'd been a little scared, at least. But definitely not to the same extent as Brendon, and not enough to take action like he had, understandably so. Even still, he didn't argue, just positioned himself a little more on his side to watch Brendon once he lifted off. It was always me, being stupid. I don’t know why I ever thought I didn’t want to spend my entire life with you. So there didn't have to be a specific reason, necessarily, anyone could be afraid of committing to anyone regardless of who they were. Ryan, though, felt a little sorry for Brendon, 'cause he was barely able to stand himself sometimes. But if he said that then he was fairly certain it'd both ruin the moment and fuel Brendon's unending sweetness, so he kept it to himself.

Ryan still wasn't expecting much when they joined hands, and still didn't suspect much when Brendon kissed him spontaneously. He played along, though, even when Brendon did it again, and then the possibility of what Brendon might have planned for them dawned on him. He'd honestly expected to be the one to do it, but... this was even better. Ryan would probably write and rewrite and forget some script he made for himself, or take months to find the right ring, or extensively plan out when and where it'd take place... yeah, his proposal would've been way too far-fetched. Brendon was always better at romantic. He was thoughtful and sweet and somehow knew how to go about everything on the first try; Ryan's rough drafts were rarely anything to get excited about. Anyway. That was maybe what was happening. They'd gotten to the point where they could, like, read each other's thoughts, but he still had his doubts about his own judgment.

Brendon's hand tightened on his, and Ryan kept running his thumb over his skin as comfortingly as he could, almost-barely laughing in a rush of air primarily from disbelief. It hadn't even happened and they were both so... well. Anxiety and excitement were two very different emotions. Poor Brendon. He dwelled on maybe just saying 'yes' prematurely to save him some suffering, but that was too easy. And he still could be wrong, honestly. I- listen. He was, god. Ryan nodded intently, his eyes dropping to their hands momentarily He maintained a solid grip on Brendon's hand, attempting to ground him from shaking. It’s funny, because, back when we first fell in love here, I would never have thought about doing this. Ryan nodded again, his lips parting while he listened, 'cause this was really happening. He couldn't process much, but he knew he agreed; he knew they were in it for the long run but he hadn't even considered the marriage aspect.

I thought ‘forever’ was so- terrifying. Overwhelming. And maybe it is a lot, but I don’t care anymore. One edge of Ryan's mouth twitched up in another sort-of laugh before returning to the focused expression he wore before, because it was funny how eloquently Brendon was putting his own thoughts into words. I love you, more than anything, you’re the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be than by your side. Forever. Forever. So that word was theirs now. He nodded seriously all the way through, forgetting he wasn't just listening until he came to at the end of Brendon's speech. "I love you, too," he murmured very gently, eyes glittering enthusiastically but the rest of his face otherwise entirely still. Brendon appeared to be suppressing a smile, all energy, and Ryan couldn't help but start to mirror him.

He was shifting, and Ryan kept his eyes on Brendon's face until their hands separated. Partially terrified, partially ecstatic, Ryan sat up a little further, blinking quickly when he looked between Brendon and the ring in his hands. I want you to marry me, darling. He didn't even have to ask, but Ryan supposed a formality made it more official. Even so, he couldn't help breaking out into a grin, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together for a count of Mississippi before pulling back and presenting his hand. "And I want you to marry me," he replied, reaching his unoccupied right hand to curl around the back of Brendon's head and pull him closer for a kiss. He glanced down at the ring again after a few moments, overwhelmed by the fullness in his chest, and laughed against Brendon's cheek. "Can't believe you're so sneaky. I had no idea." He'd already said it, like, thirty times, but. "God, I love you so much. We're fiancés. How long did you - I mean, when did you even start planning...?" And he still had to get an engagement ring for Brendon. The premise was about as exciting as all of this - almost.

When Brendon first even considered the possibility of marriage, there was a problem that stuck out- Ryan tended to be the hopeless romantic, the more sentimental out of them both, and crucially, the one that people would expect to propose- Brendon included. Even if Ryan never talked about, the two of them had learned to read eachother like a book, and Brendon knew that Ryan was obsessed with that ideal picture of serenity and domestic bliss, something they already had (and then some- if you counted less traditional things like a constant joint pastime being smoking a fuckton of weed and Brendon playing drums at 2am until Ryan coaxed- otherwise dragged- him back to bed). Even so, marriage would legally seal the deal, and the more Brendon thought about it, the romantic aspect of it, the prospect of calling Ryan his husband, the more he wanted to be the one who got down on one knee (literally or metaphorically). He was still bugged by the fact that he knew Ryan wanted to do it at somepoint, and if he proposed he’d never get proposed to, But once Brendon wanted something, he was incredibly impatient.

He put a great deal of thought and sentiment into the proposal, but didn’t spend a hugely long time planning it out. It was easy- go to the cabin to invoke those memories back strongly into them, butter Ryan up with constant affection and gentleness he usually didn’t see from Brendon, then propose by the lakeshore, mirror the moment four years plus ago that they’d nervously but surely confessed and kissed eachother with a mutual passion and adoration that took their breaths away. It went perfectly to plan, even with unprecedented nerves setting in, and though Brendon felt his throat tightening a little from the anxiety and anticipation, he was proud of himself for getting this far and not backing down. Not that he thought he’d get cold feet- he wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t scared of forever, in fact he wanted it to come sooner- but he had an unfortunate history of thinking irrationally and he hoped that wouldn’t kick in out of the blue and ruin his perfectly planned moment.

Luckily, Ryan caught on surprisingly fast, so he was comforted by the fact that there was no way he was backing out without thinking. He had to continue, reach the end of a speech that couldn’t begin to put into words how much he adored him, and then Ryan would say yes, and they’d be engaged. Ryan’s grip was solid, and as he spoke he glanced down too at their joined hands, a familiar, comforting sight. Ryan’s hands- he’d always loved them, he had long fingers, and a strong grip, calloused, guitarist’s hands. Much bigger than his, he noted distantly. Brendon was still talking, but he dragged his eyes away to instead meet Ryan’s intent gaze. Ryan’s eyes. In his head, he never shut up about them- they were a rich honey-brown, gold in certain light, and Brendon fell in love with him all over again every time he got lost in them for a little too long. His eyes then dropped to his mouth, and he bit his lip as he took a pause and a breath, because he was aching to cut to the chase and just kiss him. He was so hopelessly in love with everything about him, he wanted it, wanted it forever, all his perfections and flaws, everything that made him Ryan.

They knew everything about eachother. Brendon knew of every particular curl that sprang up when Ryan’s hair started to grow long, the map of veins under the skin of his hands, the slope of his collarbone, his throat, his jaw. He knew how his voice became low and rough when he was the happiest, and that he chewed up the words he truly meant but it was okay because Brendon understood anyway. Brendon knew how he tasted, sounded, looked, felt- it was dramatic, maybe, but Brendon was hopelessly in love and it was moments like this where it really hit him. They’d be together- forever. The word was overkill, now, but neither of them cared. Nothing else mattered. They complimented eachother, so different but so in tune- the sun, the moon, the analogy they’d played out for so long but fit them so well it had stuck for years and it was an open secret that everyone knew about but felt so bizarrely intimate that they both found themselves flushing and grinning uncontrollably when they talked about it. They were disgustingly sweet and joined at the soul and they were going to get married.

I love you, too. A simple, familiar phrase, but Brendon heard all of the meaning behind it. He was smiling, helplessly, and quickly reached into his pocket to present his future husband the ring he’d chosen. There was a beat of silence, stillness, and then Ryan leaned in, grinning, resting their foreheads together. Brendon finally exhaled. And I want you to marry me. ”Thank fuck,” He laughed, glancing down at Ryan’s presented hand before he was quickly distracted when Ryan drew him in for a kiss. Everything felt muted for a while, and Brendon’s eyelashes fluttered. He stayed where he was, close and twined, but took the ring carefully out of the box and took careful hold of Ryan’s hand, ready to slide it on. Can’t believe you’re so sneaky. I had no idea. God, I love you so much. Brendon was grinning, unable to find words, and just slid the ring delicately onto Ryan’s ring finger, before bringing his hand up to his mouth and kissing it gently. We’re fiancés.

God, they were. Brendon nodded, enthusiastic, unable to draw his eyes away from Ryan’s hands. They looked better now. How long did you- I mean, when did you even start planning...? ”Not long before we even left to go here,”Brendon admitted. ”But I’ve thought about it for months.” He then looked up at Ryan, and decided they weren’t close enough- fuelled by a surge of ecstasy, he moved forwards, onto Ryan’s lap, wrapping his arms around his fiancé’s neck and pressing his mouth against his lips, then his skin. ”Nothing matters but you. Nothing.”

Ryan fell in love with him all over the world, on tours in foreign hotels and in remote gas stations and in the bus lounge at 2 in the morning. And yet this one place, some creaky old cabin barely a few hours from home, was the one nearest and dearest to their hearts, the place Ryan considered most special to them. In fact, if he'd have thought about it seriously instead of entertaining a multitude of different scenarios and writing out plays between the two of them, most likely he'd have picked the cabin to propose at, too. Part of him was shocked Brendon had gotten there first and beat him to the punch, 'cause Ryan tended to jump the gun and be impulsive no matter what (in fact it was surprising he hadn't, like, stumbled upon a jewelry store and walked in to get an engagement ring without thinking already). It was a good thing, though, because from the moment he'd caught on this had already become the best feeling of his life.

Brendon began every good thing in his life, actually, and finished each, too. Every good memory, every good story, every perfect song off of every perfect album; he played a hand in everything, and Ryan knew if they were married, Brendon would make the rest of his life perfect, too. It was weird for Ryan to think especially, considering he was a pessimist above all else, but Brendon had sort of convinced him that there was at least one thing to invest hope in - not just in Brendon himself, but in them, and everything they'd create together, and all the future held for them. God, Brendon gave him something to hold out for. A few years ago he was pretty sure his band was going to fall apart and he'd go nowhere, at least not any place special. Now... Brendon came in at the brink of collapse, picked him up and every other piece of his life, too, and had stayed holding it all together.

Ryan wasn't sure how to tell him he'd saved him. Marriage, though, would certainly give him a more credible platform. Thank fuck. As if he would've said anything else. Ryan shook his head at him, grinning, and watched in enchantment as Brendon slid the ring onto his finger, his lips parted slightly at the view. "You sound like I could have said anything else," he observed, amused, and withheld whatever proclamation of undying love threatened to leave his lips when he saw Brendon kissing the back of his hand. God, he was perfect. Ryan lifted his hand to admire the ring, twisting it to watch the silver glint in the faint light, biting his lip softly to keep from, again, saying anything too embarrassing. Really, a stupid thing to be worried about at a time like this, but he'd like to remember today as a time where he wasn't too mortifying, thanks very much.

Not long before we even left to go here. See, even relatively impulsive ventures of his went better than Ryan's planned out ones. He studied Brendon longer, barely even registering how absurd his staring habit had become. But I’ve thought about it for months. Ryan nodded swiftly, accepting Brendon into his arms and onto his lap easily. "Me, too," he said, no hesitation. "Pretty much since we met. But I'm glad you beat me to the chase... this is so beautiful, baby." Brendon's arms had wrapped around his neck and he held him steady with a hand braced behind one of his shoulders, surging closer against him when their lips met. Nothing matters but you. Nothing. None of this was particularly shocking - Brendon had always been sentimental and sweet, charming above all else. But it never failed to touch Ryan's heart, this especially.

He grinned, easy. "You're corny," he whispered close against Brendon's lips, searching his eyes. "But sweet. It's a good thing I get you to myself." Ryan fit in another chaste kiss, then looked thoughtful, dipping his chin a bit. "We're keeping your last name, right?" He was half-joking, but he looked seriously at Brendon, a sideways smile glued to his face. "Tell me all about it, how we'll be. Married life. I vote: lots of dogs."

Inbetween frequent shows and writing sessions, one of the main task that occupied the band’s time were showing up reluctantly to interviews and panels they were heavy-handedly coerced into doing. None of the four members were particularly confident or eloquent in the beginning, but then Brendon turned up and he quickly got the hang of it, doing most of the talking until maybe Jon or Spencer dropped the odd comment and Ryan was forced into answering a lyric-based question. They never seemed very enthusiastic during these interviews- in fact, they’d probably rather be anywhere else- so, to make them a little less mind-numbing and repetitive, they all tended to get high beforehand (as with everything during the entire era of the second album), though this was obvious, and probably risky considering the nature of some of their more frequently asked questions- for example, there always tended to be one that was basically are Brendon and Ryan together but worded more delicately each time. First, it was something like ‘you’re four young guys trapped together on a bus most of the time, is there ever tension between any of you’- it was said carefully, but the interviewer looked plainly at Brendon and Ryan. They never entertained them with a straight answer, and just tended to shrug or avoid it or make jokes.

As time went on, when Brendon and Ryan actually were dating, the questions began to become more bold and straightforward- things like there are rumours of Brendon and Ryan being in a relationship and have you ever dated a bandmate/which one would you date if you had to, and finally a straight question- are you and Ryan dating. Again, they tended to laugh awkwardly, shrug it off, dismiss it all as some joke, a rumour- when really, the reason Brendon and Ryan arrived at interviews up to an hour late wasn’t traffic, the reason they were so touchy was by no means platonic, and they were dating, had kissed, had fallen in love, and were completely besotted with eachother. They denied, denied, denied, but it was obvious, really, even if somebody wasn’t really looking. They could be at interviews and they’d be sat way too close to eachother on the couch, with Brendon’s fingers tapping against Ryan’s leg, or it could be a judging panel, and they kept leaning in to talk into eachother’s ears and pass notes that nobody else could see. Neither of them really knew the meaning of subtle, they never had, and eventually, they stopped caring completely- especially after they got back together.

Brendon was asked repeatedly about Ryan right after the band’s breakup, and whenever his name was mentioned, his chest tightened agonisingly and he felt a dull ache of pain because he was still in love, he missed him, missed his skin, his eyes, his kisses and his embrace. When they reunited and very quickly got back together, thanks to a certain Gabriel as well as Brendon’s tipsy forwardness, they decided it would just be easier to make their relationship public for once. It sort of worked, because they were no longer asked speculative questions about rumours- but then again Brendon was mostly asked about whether the band split was because of him and Ryan, whether dating a bandmate was hard, do you have any plans to get married. That last question was one he did indulge in, gushing about marriage and future and domestic bliss and hoping Ryan didn’t watch every single one of his interviews because, as had been revealed in the past, he sometimes wasn’t too reliable when it came to huge commitments. And marriage was a huge commitment- even if he had already decided he wanted to remain with Ryan for the rest of his life, the concept was extremely daunting.

Nevertheless, he was sold on the romance of it all, and even though he wasn’t usually so sentimental, he was unbelievably excited about the death of his bachelor self. He couldn’t wait to be married, introduce Ryan as his husband, share a surname. It was all so domestic, so perfect- Brendon couldn’t believe it would be happening to him. He thought he would be alone for a very long time when he was younger, and then after he broke it off with Ryan. Both times, the love of his life had proved him gloriously wrong. Ryan saved him from cardiac arrest during the proposal, too, rebuking his nervousness. You sound like I could have said anything else. Brendon smiled against Ryan’s hand, and then lifted his head, blinking gently, eyelashes fluttering because Ryan was too pretty and he couldn’t look at him directly for too long without being rendered dumb and speechless. ”You never know,” He said softly, eyes studying Ryan intently, enamoured, “Thought maybe you’d want revenge on me for dumping you for no reason.” He grinned, moving forwards into Ryan’s lap.

Me, too. He imagined Ryan’s proposal. He’d be so much more nervous, because of Brendon’s sketchy history with huge, sudden steps forward. He’d probably struggle to find words, but the ones he did say would be so profound- Ryan had a way with words, when he could get them out, then Brendon could never dream of matching. But he did his best, and he hoped it was enough for his English major boyfriend- no, fiancé. They were fiancés. Brendon felt his heart swell. Pretty much since we met. But I’m glad you beat me to the chase... this is so beautiful, baby. ”Since we met? I know I’m pretty, baby, but did you have that much of a crush on me?” He teased, just as Ryan rested a hand behind one of his shoulders. He then leaned in as he was coaxed forwards, joining him in a gentle, familiar kiss, trying not to freak out too much and get all hyper from the happiness and ecstasy surging through his nerves. You’re corny, but sweet. Shrugging haughtily, Brendon didn’t grace him with a response, but had to forcefully prevent a smile when he met Ryan’s eyes.

It’s a good thing I get you to myself. Brendon nodded, enthusiastic about that concept, arms still thrown over his shoulders and crossing over loosely behind his neck. ”All yours,” He agreed, shifting a little to get comfortable. ”Forever. I love you.” Was it overkill to say it so often? Brendon didn’t know. In some kind of romantic cliche, he wasn’t sure whether he said it too often or not enough. Ryan didn’t seem to complain. We’re keeping your last name, right? Instantly, Brendon pulled back, regarding him with an emotion akin to shock and mock annoyance. ”Darling,” He began, his voice soft and low and velvety, ”You know I love you more than anything, but if I had to take your name, I wouldn’t marry you. I wasn’t meant to be Brendon Ready.” He smiled fondly. ”Ryan Blake... That’s nicer,” He murmured, testing how it sounded on his tongue. ”George Ryan Blake.”

Tell me about it, how we’ll be. Married life. I vote: lots of dogs. Brendon nodded, enthusiastic, and then decided to gently push Ryan backwards so he could settle over him, hand carding through his hair while he told him what he had thought about so much over the past few months especially. ”Three dogs,” He suggested, tugging gently on a curl of Ryan’s hair. ”They’ll wake us up in the morning and we’ll stay in bed for as long as we want. We could be in silence, on separate sides of the bed, or together, kissing til we’re breathless, and it wouldn’t matter because we have hundreds of mornings to vary and each one will be perfect as long as I spend it with you, my husband, my love.” He paused, grinned, kissed the corner of his mouth. ”Cringy, huh?”

When they were under the metaphorical interrogation lamp that was the vigorous press and media surrounding their band, Ryan (and probably Brendon, to more or less of an extent) had plenty of reasons to hide his relationship, all of which were rational in his head. He could be as unsubtle and touchy as possible, but weirdly enough drew the line at actually confirming peoples' suspicions - their saving grace was the fact that the rest of the band was fairly comfortable with each other anyway, all platonically hung over each other or using someone as a pillow because they were that close of friends. He was concerned about safety, firstly; if someone didn't like their relationship, it would most definitely come back to Brendon first and foremost just because he was the frontman, the most easily accessible. And then he simply didn't like sharing the parts of his life that were no one else's business. He didn't answer any other personal questions, either, so this one constantly forced on them was no different.

An extension of that, he knew interviewers would just get more inappropriate and intrusive if they were honest, and every boundary they'd carefully drawn out and tried to sustain would be for nothing. Plus, what about Jon and Spencer? If Brendon and Ryan became the focus just for this new development, their friends would fade into the background, and probably the actual music they created. They were decidedly musicians before they were public figures. There was plenty more Ryan worried about, but the point was that hiding it was never out of not wanting to be associated with Brendon like that. In fact, any descriptor that kept them in close ties was more than welcome to him. Anyway. As far as he knew, no one ever found out for certain until they actually reconnected, and Ryan had very rarely been approached about it thanks to the mere fact that he rarely went anywhere people would make a big deal of it or agreed to interviews. Brendon, though, evidently had gotten quite a few questions over time, but when Ryan noticed the trend of people wondering whether the split was because of them, he deliberately tried to avoid those parts of the interview if he even saw it in the first place.

It was just unfathomable that they'd come from that, to here. Years ago he'd be scared to hold Brendon's hand in public, or in the very early stages he'd even been cautious of walking too close to him. Now here they were, reliving the beginning of it all, except this time they were so secure with one another that everything was on the surface, completely receptive to one another rather than circling around subtext. Ryan would even say they were comfortable if Brendon hadn't been so nerve-wracked up to the actual proposal - thankfully it quickly faded with reassuring words and Ryan's eventual acceptance. What else could have happened? Ryan wasn't sure about fate, but some force was keeping them tied to one another. Like a Japanese legend he knew, where lovers or life partners destined to find one another were connected by an invisible red string tied round their little finger. The string could undergo duress, contract and stretch and tangle, but it didn't break. He might've thought it was sweet but too idealistic if he'd never met Brendon - now he understood the legend completely.

Brendon looked what words could not describe, smiling through the kiss he pressed to the back of Ryan's hand, but some words could come close; princely, enchanting, most importantly: devoted. He knew it before, but Ryan felt they were definitely in this for the long run, and he was about ready to make his vows, if only time could hurry up without letting him miss out on the engagement period. You never know. Alright, the only reasonable situation in which he'd say no was if Ryan himself wanted to propose, turn it around on him. But he wasn't that competitive. Thought maybe you’d want revenge on me for dumping you for no reason. Ryan accepted him closer, wrapping his arms round his waist, and thought that he had a pretty good reason at the time. Why force him into something he wasn't ready for? The time let him think about it - and now, look, it was worth it. Ryan realized distantly exactly how proud he was of him and might've even droned on about it if he wanted to be even cornier. Alas, he rolled his eyes amusedly at Brendon's speculation.

Since we met? I know I’m pretty, baby, but did you have that much of a crush on me? "Pretty? You're selling yourself short," he answered, even though he knew Brendon was just teasing. "And it wasn't just that. I liked everything about you so fast - and, y'know, kind of got carried away thinking about what could be. So, yeah, sort of a big crush." He shrugged nonchalantly, like it really was something casual to just throw out there, laughing softly all the same. It was the truth; his first impression of Brendon was obviously fond, learning he was pretty much all talent, maybe 1% human. And when he got a better look at him, he instantly memorized Brendon's features, suddenly disinterested in everyone else; when he actually recruited him it just meant that he had more positive traits to show for - his sense of humor that shouldn't have but somehow went well with Ryan's, his constant energy, his endless empathy. The list went on. With all that in mind, of course Ryan's mind would drift to ambitious places.

All yours. He didn't really need the reassuring, honestly. But Ryan somehow felt even warmer from those two words alone, even more enthused about what was in store for them. Forever. I love you. Brendon had revolutionized the word. Ryan was pretty sure he'd be finding it frequently in anything he wrote from now on, straight from the subconscious. "I love you," he returned softly, considering him closely with a reserved smile. God, they were sickly sweet - except for when it came to talking about Ryan's curse of a name. Darling. Ryan prepared himself. You know I love you more than anything, but if I had to take your name, I wouldn’t marry you. "Understandable," Ryan piped in, instantaneous. I wasn’t meant to be Brendon Ready. Ryan shook his head, looking like this was such a tragedy. Ryan Blake... That’s nicer. Hearing it from his mouth, voice all velvety, was something on a whole different level. Ryan looked touched, and then - George Ryan Blake. "Ouch. Didn't see that one coming." Somewhere in the back of his mind, he definitely did. Ryan grinned at him despite the urge to roll his eyes again, and pointedly did not tack on 'the third' to fuel his amusement.

Ryan had had plenty of time to fantasize in his own way about how they'd turn out, what they'd do, where they'd live, so on; now he was excited to hear Brendon's thoughts, to know how in tune they were should their visions be similar. Brendon's instant enthusiasm was infectious, and Ryan easily leaned back with his guidance, resting until he could gaze up at Brendon with what was apparently a permanent smile. He kept his hands on either side of Brendon's waist, absently drawing his fingertips in gentle circles with one hand. Three dogs. Ryan liked the sound of that - and it wasn't just Brendon's hand coaxing through his hair that endeared him to the idea. He was certainly getting too relaxed from it, though, more serene by the second. They’ll wake us up in the morning and we’ll stay in bed for as long as we want. We could be in silence, on separate sides of the bed, or together, kissing til we’re breathless, and it wouldn’t matter because we have hundreds of mornings to vary and each one will be perfect as long as I spend it with you, my husband, my love.

By the end of it Ryan was very quiet, more engrossed in Brendon's voice the longer he continued - and, frankly, speechless. He was trying his hardest to control how obvious his delight translated to his expression, but it was near impossible, especially when Brendon pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth like Ryan would usually with him. Funny how that worked. Cringy, huh? "Very. And I love it." His busied hand at Brendon's waist migrated up to rest at the back of his neck instead, thumb brushing carefully over his hairline. "Those dogs are going to be so spoiled," he laughed, already imaginative. "We'll travel. See the world together, and this time it won't just be for a tour. And we'll always live somewhere where we can make music together, always have time for each other... and even if we're apart, we'll know we can come home to one another. As long as I have you, nothing else matters. I love you more than life -" He leaned up to press a kiss to Brendon's jaw, staying close to continue. "More than music-" He moved to Brendon's cheek to kiss him again, with certainty. "More than anything." He caught his lips last of all, lingering until he couldn't, and then lowered his voice to repeat after Brendon. "Cringy, huh?"

/