[OOC] a song of pure romance

[Neve]

Brendon was often tired these days- between working tirelessly in their studio at home, collaborating with songwriters, going to other studios, going to interviews, doing photoshoots and showing up to meetings, he didn’t have much free time anymore, definitely not as much as he used to because he’d blown up so much and now had so many more people on board rather than just the label and the band members and maybe the bodyguard. He had so many people surrounding him and though he was immensely grateful for the talent he surrounded himself with- it didn’t make anything any easier. In fact, he had to work even harder to try and impress everyone- he even gave his input on the merch when he could finally find some time to look design ideas over. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy being busy or anything; having a lot to do and being motivated to do it was his Brendon wanted to live, because he was full of energy and could usually handle that. It was just- there were downsides, like the fact it did sometimes take a toll on him; lots of shows and recording meant his voice suffered and he was sometimes put on vocal rest by his own husband, and all the travelling and work he had to do meant that sometimes, a lot of the time, he did get tired. Even being an Aries couldn’t save him from that.

Another thing, the main thing, was that he didn’t see as much of Ryan anymore- since Ryan’s departure from the band (which, yes, was suggested by Brendon himself) they didn’t work together anymore and rarely even sat down to play music or write songs because they both had their own separate ventures now and that was okay, he just... Missed it, desperately. Performing with him, bickering with him over lyrics and chords, their lives completely intertwined, work and all. So maybe it was cringey and he was being slightly dramatic- they were still married and still lived in the same house, for god’s sake, they still slept side by side and Ryan still carried Brendon to bed when he fell asleep on the couch- their lives were just so drastically different now that things had changed and Brendon still wasn’t okay with that yet. He didn’t consider the fact that all of this was his fault anyway- he had practically kicked his own husband out of the band he had started, citing- creative differences, of all things. In fairness to Brendon, though, their music tastes had diverted considerably from the similar path they had stayed down for a long time and had done so in opposite directions. Not only this, but Ryan came round to the idea eventually anyway. He refused to accept all the blame- though Brendon suggested it, the agreement had to have been mutual.

They still wrote eachother love songs and Ryan still attended his shows and went with him on tour, and Brendon still attended every rare live appearance Ryan made no matter his schedule (some things were more important)- they were very much in love, but Brendon was kind of worried, irrationally so, that they were at the tail end of their ‘honeymoon phase’ so to speak. Theirs had been an extended one that had lasted for years but now they had individually gained increased levels of independence and confidence (Ryan in particular), that codependency was melting away, he could see it, and Brendon wasn’t quite ready to let go. Of course, they’d always be each other’s priorities, but they’d found that their worlds were capable of not quite revolving around their significant other and the sky wouldn’t even fall down. Even so, he was- admittedly- apprehensive. Brendon had a bad habit of making everything a hundred times more emotionally jarring than it should be and the slightest neglect he perceived from Ryan could turn into a full-on cable drama- and this became most obvious when Ryan started to expand his circle of friends. This by itself sounded awful, like Brendon didn’t want Ryan to have a wider social circle, wanted to keep him to himself. It wasn’t that- he was just jealous they got to spend time with him doing stuff they used to do, writing songs and recording music. He was wistful, and also worried that maybe somebody more talented than him would come along and suddenly he wouldn’t be special in Ryan’s eyes anymore, or something. Brendon’s overactive imagination would be the death of him.

One of these new friends, a stand-out one, was Z. Ryan absolutely adored her- he gushed about her all the time and Brendon thought it was endearing and was immensely happy that Ryan found a creative outlet when writing with Z, but- he was also soulcrushingly jealous because writing songs was always their thing, did Ryan think Z was more talented than he was? Did he enjoy it more? Z was incredibly talented and ethereal and Brendon loved her too, even he wasn’t petty enough to dislike her just for being good friends with his husband. But he was petty enough to be snarky with Ryan about it on the odd occasion when he felt particularly neglected. But- he could never complain properly about feeling this way, because it was usually times when Brendon was incredibly busy that Ryan hung out with Z the most, and he’d just seem unreasonable. But unreasonable was Brendon’s middle- or it could be. That was about to become very obvious that morning- one after a night in that had followed a very long and tiring string of meetings all day, pretty much back-to-back.

He and Ryan had just curled up on the couch together looking for new Netflix shows to watch but they never ended up deciding and just sat laughing at their own inside jokes and holding hands, Brendon pressed into his side so closely it was like he just wanted to become part of him. By Ryan’s side was where he felt most at home and he’d felt deprived of such a feeling lately. Eventually, though, they’d both given up with Netflix and decided to go to bed. Ryan had been quite productive that day, he had decided to clean their studio and cook them both dinner because they finally had the time to eat a proper meal together like that. Brendon, though, was exhausted. He passed out curled against Ryan’s side almost instantly and remained that way until Ryan got up, to which he responded by semi-unconsciously whining in complaint and pulling the blankets closer to him to make up for the lost sensation of Ryan’s skin. It didn’t compare at all but he was so tired that he lapsed right back into deep sleep until hours later.

When he woke up he immediately rolled over with a groan of complaint as the sun hit his eyes. Squinting, he scrambled at the bedside table for his phone, taking it and checking the time. Fuck. It was way past noon already and- oh. He smiled slowly, putting his phone back down and shutting his eyes, exhaling. He had a day off, for once, which meant he could spend his day with Ryan. Maybe get the guitars out, who knew. Go for lunch- okay, late lunch. Suddenly invigorated, he sat up, stretched, and swung his legs over to rest his feet on the floor, sitting on the edge of his side of the bed. He pulled on some pyjama pants he was pretty sure were Ryan’s because they were- uh- too big, too long, what have you, not the right size, and then stood up, finding a sweater (one of his own for once) and pulling that over his head as he blindly moved in the direction of their bedroom door. When he finally managed to get the sweater on properly, he was walking out into the living room, smiling brightly. ”Hey baby, It’s so late, how come you didn’t- Oh.” Brendon’s eyes widened and then narrowed ever so slightly but he recovered quickly and flashed Z a welcoming smile. ”Hey, Z. Didn’t know you were coming. Ryan forgot to tell me.” He looked at Ryan doubtfully and just nodded at him. There was a moment of silence. Brendon sullenly stared at the guitars in each of their arms, then turned around to drift into the kitchen. ”I’m getting coffee.”

[jakob]

It was bizarre how well Brendon and Ryan went together considering their vast differences. Salty and sweet, though maybe not quite in that order. Brendon was the type to throw himself into his work. He was good at lazing out when it was time to relax, but when he was at work, god was he passionate. He'd burn himself out, lose his voice completely, drop ridiculous weight in a short amount of time before admitting that maybe he needed a few hours off. He had a fantastic work ethic, and he was full of energy, but it took a toll on him. This was his life's work, his dream, he lived it to the fullest. Ryan, on the other hand, ended up thriving far more outside of the spotlight. After the split, Ryan had maybe as many shows as he could count on his hands, but he was at least less overwhelmed by the thought that there were eyes on him, potential criticisms and judgments lying in wait for him to find them on the internet, in journalism, from the mouths of people standing in the front row. He was happy writing and creating for others to hear, but he had this paralyzing fear of every aspect of it: being known, being understood for all his ridiculous stretched metaphors, seeming stupid or untalented. Anything made him nervous when it seemed like a whole country was watching.

While he was doing better in general, there were downsides. He was glad to spend days to himself... but, naturally, 'by himself' actually meant 'with Brendon,' and with this new split arrangement, Brendon was rarely ever home. If he was, he needed the sleep afforded to him, like it was life or death. Really. If he got a whole day with Brendon, he counted himself lucky. You'd expect it to just be the tours, because that's what occupied their time so much before, but more people were realizing Brendon's skill and recognising his abilities and the whole fucking world appreciated him now- there were so many more demands. People wanted to interview him, in person or on the radio or on a live goddamn talkshow or over the phone; they wanted him to play awards shows even when he wasn't the one winning an award (lately he often was); they wanted him to collaborate on a song or an album or in a whole ass Broadway show. When it was an event, Ryan could make it there a good 99% of the time - that last percent was just because sometimes Brendon couldn't get him through the door - but then that didn't even guarantee he could see his husband. Sometimes his security ran Ryan off to avoid distraction (hey, weren't you my security too a couple years back?) as if he could really throw Brendon off his game.

These days they lived as if they were in a long-distance relationship. Brendon's schedule, though he always updated Ryan when he knew something, was unpredictable and turbulent, so Ryan left him notes for whenever he came home. A notebook opened to a half-written love song on the counter or on Brendon's pillow, and when Ryan awoke sometimes he was lucky enough to be greeted by Brendon curled into him, the song added to and set aside amongst the covers. When he wasn't on the tour with Brendon, taking up space that he totally shouldn't be allowed to, they photographed practically their entire lives and just kept up with one another. Granted, Ryan's were a whole other universe of uninteresting compared to Brendon's, another city every night, another new beat every week. Still. Somehow they remained on the same page on opposite ends of the world, awake at ungodly hours just to ensure they got to actually talk for a handful of minutes. He hated video to all hell, but Ryan would totally take an eight-hour long FaceTime over no other interaction when Brendon was crossing a couple countries in a crammed bus.

Still. Ryan was realizing that spending his time waiting around, talking to no one but mail delivery until Brendon came back, was potentially not great for your mental health. He'd get texts from Jon asking if he was still even alive and realize, shit, he really hadn't been doing a great job, well. Being a human, basically. He actually responded and maintained a conversation for once and, lo and behold, was invited over, meeting up with old Veins members, everyone who contributed, more distant connections. He'd nearly forgotten about Z, but when he met up with her again they clicked almost instantly. She had the same weird, dated sense of humor as him, but a different kind of liveliness and a dedication to her creations that reminded him vaguely of his husband. Not to mention she was beyond talented, so he was, of course, her number one fan within a few days of playing her music on repeat on Spotify. They naturally gravitated towards making music when they hung out from then on, of course.

As it turned out, Z had a life, much unlike Ryan. She hosted shows, promoted albums, promoted him even though he really wasn't releasing anything save for a few demos forever ago. He became part of the shows - and that was a whole other kind of blessing in itself, because Brendon always, always, without fail, made room in his busy schedule to not just attend but hype him up before the show and then shower him in compliments afterward - and it wasn't like eyes were on him again, because though many just attended to see him (and many of those attendees were just out of nostalgia), he wasn't the one in the spotlight and there was zero criticism to be found. Anyway. He knew that Brendon wasn't totally comfortable with it. He couldn't pinpoint why, really, just that maybe he felt neglected in light of someone else in Ryan's life, but. Oblivious as Ryan was, he figured it was a given that Brendon was the beginning and end for him, that his whole life revolved around his husband - to this day. He supposed if things were switched around and Brendon was the one who'd found a 'new best friend' (obviously they were each other's best friend, who else), suddenly spending all this time with someone else doing things that were 'their' thing, like making music together.

Brendon finally had an opening in his schedule, and Ryan doubted that most of it wouldn't be spent catching up on sleep, but as usual he swore up and down he wouldn't step more than a foot away from him the entire time. As it turned out, he was pretty good at keeping that promise. The screen went black in front of them after a few hours untouched, the two of them opting instead to just waste away, talking forever about nothing, everything. After so long pressed together, no room for air, so close Ryan was pretty sure every limb had fallen asleep, they actually did try to go to sleep. He let Brendon get as many hours in as he could (god knows he probably never listened when Ryan texted him an offhanded 'go to sleep stupid' at two am after seeing him post somewhere, thousands of miles away), kissing his head before he got up, watching him curl into himself to retain the warmth Ryan was leaving with. He really did deserve the break. A hiatus was probably not even in Brendon's dictionary.

Ryan was in the kitchen, starting up a pot of coffee, when his phone buzzed: open up I'm coming over!!! Telltale. He didn't even have to look at the sender of this excited text to know it was Z, probably with yet another idea. Lazy, Ryan just unlocked the door, floated around picking up the place until she arrived already toting a guitar and wearing a typical sundress. Clearly so invigorated about her new concepts, some show idea, Z barely greeted him, just poured herself a mug of coffee with some Splenda and laid out on the couch, Ryan sitting more reservedly at the opposite end so he could properly watch in amusement while she detailed her plans and went off on side tangents about new thoughts popping into her head. He half-contributed, suggested people to string along, asked where she'd even host it, so on, but mostly this appeared to be her excited debut. She was slowing down, strumming absently on the forgotten guitar, when he heard Brendon stirring in the next room, no doubt stumbling around to find clothes (probably not his own). Z liked him, she did, but she also knew how rarely they got to spend time together - at least, rare for a married couple. So. Ryan grinned at her good intuition as she started sitting up, composing herself to clear out.

Brendon's sweater was still struggling over his head when he entered the room, and Ryan was already turned with his elbows over the back of the couch, one arm hanging over in wait for Brendon to take his hand, come greet him with a kiss. Hey baby, It’s so late, how come you didn’t- Oh. Oh. Ryan's smile grew subdued and he looked between Z and Brendon, somewhat concerned. Z was quick to the gun, turning to look over the back in the same way Ryan was and grinning right back at Brendon. Hey, Bren! And she was one of few who could get away with that, probably. Hey, Z. Didn’t know you were coming. Ryan forgot to tell me. Ryan paused, unsure, and apparently it was a second too long, because Z was saving him. Surprise visit! And actually, I was just leaving. I have to, uh... Evidently, they both clocked the look on Brendon's face. For lack of a better excuse, Z went with honesty. ...let you two settle this silent battle. Ryan rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sat back normally while Brendon turned - eyeroll directed at Z, surprisingly enough. I’m getting coffee.

Ryan was already popping up, chipper while following his very sleepy, apparently displeased, dressed-in-all-the-wrong-sized-clothes husbans to the kitchen. "I made some, saved it for you, babe," he said, kind of desperately, circling the counter island and leaning over it despairingly. Behind him, he heard Z leaving, and swore he could feel how funny she thought this was. More realistically, he heard her foreboding 'see ya!' just before the door clicked shut. Jerk. "I thought you should get some sleep, I know you never do when you're busy, y'know..." He trailed off, already rambling nervously because he still wasnt totally sure how to navigate this new insecurity of Brendon's. And his promise to stay less than a foot away was totally being broken. They were at least three feet away. He moved around the counter a little warily, cautious to approach in case Brendon would just avoid it. "But you're awake now, and. I missed you. So hey." Oddly timid, even for Ryan, but he chanced reaching out, trying to pinch the fabric of Brendon's sweatshirt and gently pull him closer.

[Neve]

They weren’t in a long distance relationship, per say- they lived in the same house and Brendon was home much more often than someone would be if they truly lived oceans apart, but he was still away for a substantial amount of time and on that first tour Brendon went on without Ryan, the intense anxiety he hadn’t suffered from since the very beginning of their career had taken hold of him for a few weeks to the point where he almost had something like a nervous breakdown and came the closest he’d ever been to cancelling a whole tour just because he needed Ryan that much. He hadn’t realised how much Ryan had helped him just standing their off to his right playing guitar- he’d taken his husband for granted on the road and he wanted to change that, texting Ryan every free second and forcing him to FaceTime so Brendon could tell him that he loved him. At first he was stubborn, refusing to admit to Ryan that he was struggling by himself because he was proud to a fault, but eventually he confessed about his increasingly difficult to manage stage fright and Ryan pretty much instantly booked a ticket to the city he happened to be in at the time and accompanied him for the rest of the tour. When he arrived at the airport Brendon barely had time to speak before Ryan pulled him into a fond embrace, one that said everything that needed to be said without words.

Brendon needed him, and Ryan needed Brendon. It wasn’t ideal being apart like this so much but they’d each grown individually, grown less codependent, perhaps, though they still didn’t like it when they were apart. In that sense, they almost pined, which was ridiculous, because they were married. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together- though, looking at Brendon’s workload, it was now more like forty to fifty percent of their lives that were spent together. It sucked, but they had to try and find some kind of work-life balance. If Ryan was more active it would be even more difficult which was even more of a dilemma because though Brendon wanted Ryan to be around all the time when he was home, he also wanted him to get back into creating because when he didn’t he just turned into some kind of recluse and Brendon had to coax him out of his shell so he was doing something actually productive with his time. Brendon’s downfall, though, was having little patience- so he often gave up and left Ryan alone to his own devices, to try and use up his creative juices writing little love letters on sticky notes (which was adorable, but Brendon would prefer a love song.

As it happened, Ryan’s passion for creating was reignited, but not by Brendon- by Z. So maybe Brendon was a little salty about that, but he adored Z, and there’s nobody else (apart from himself) that he’d approve of to be around Ryan. Z was Ryan’s best friend second only to Brendon, and he encouraged that, he did, but Brendon was fickle in nature, dramatic, petty and dramatic over the littlest things, and sometimes he had to crush a flare-up of jealousy when he saw Ryan and Z just strumming on guitars in the living room while he couldn’t join them, he had to go somewhere for an interview or something when he’d much rather play and write music with his husband like they used to do so often. Now, they barely found time. Brendon missed him and he was right there because they’d kind of lost that medium to bond- their relationship had by no means weakened, it was just being tested, and so far it was standing well- brendon just secretly wanted things back to normal and almost regretted convincing Ryan to leave the band in the first place. He loved his new band members, but- it would never be the same without the love of his life by his side in a new city every night.

There was something so romantic about it and Brendon sometimes considered dragging Ryan on a reunion tour, per say, with the original lineup, but there were a couple of problems with that. First of all, Brendon knew he’d get attached to the nostalgia again and it would be even more difficult to go on tour without Ryan following the reunion, and second of all, that just wasn’t Ryan’s scene anymore. He didn’t want to pressure his husband into situations where he suffered from obvious anxiety- all he wanted was for Ryan to be happy, but the tricky thing was that they were both happiest when they were together. It was just all so difficult to navigate for the two of them, it was still all uncharted territory and they just had to learn as they went along. In the coming years, they both knew things would change- but there was no uncertainty about how they felt about eachother. That would always remain the same and this wa something they’d never doubted. Brendon just had a habit of blowing things out of the water, just as he was doing now, walking out into the living room and allowing his mood to instantly drop when he realised Ryan had been spending time they could’ve spent together with Z, whom he was with all the time when Brendon wasn’t home.

It was enough to set a sleepy, barely awake Brendon off. Most things were. He stared Ryan down as he leaned over the back of the couch, clearly beckoning him closer, and just stayed put, eyes flickering around dangerously, still trying to blink himself awake. Then Z was speaking and he zeroed in on her, attentive. Surprise visit! Fair enough, Z was spontaneous, but- And actually, I was just leaving. Oh, thank god. Brendon could sulk at Ryan in peace. I have to uh... Let you two settle this silent battle. Brendon scoffed as he turned around. She was observant, and she knew them, he’d give her that. He almost heard Ryan’s eyeroll and felt like turning around and snapping at him but instead he stalked off (more like stumbled- remember, half-awake) into the kitchen, cooling off before he said something dumb. If Ryan knew what was good for him, he would leave him alone- but also, if Ryan left him alone, Brendon would wind himself up even more. It wasn’t a fun situation for Ryan, who just wanted his poor husband to get some more sleep.

He heard Ryan stand up almost instantly and then heard Z leave as he moved around the counter island to the coffee machine, messing with it with his poorly coordinated, tired movements, trying to remember how it, like, functioned. I made some, saved it for you, babe. Huh. Suddenly Brendon didn’t want any.”I’m good, actually.” He dropped his hands down by his sides and stepped away from the coffee machine, instead peering at the fruit bowl and deciding whether anything looked appetising. He’d hoped that they’d wake up and have breakfast together, but- I thought you should get some sleep, I know you never do when you’re busy, y’know... He turned and stared Ryan down across the counter island. ”You know what I get even less of? Time with my husband,” He mumbled, picking at the sleeve of his (Ryan’s) sweatshirt and looking down at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. It smelled like Ryan. He felt like taking it off out of spite, but. ”It’d be nice to prioritise that once in a while.”

But you’re awake now, and. No thanks to you. I missed you. So hey. Now under the impression that Ryan was now just trying to suck up to him, Brendon snuffed, displeased, and lifted his hand to push his hair back out of his eyes, the wide sleeve falling and bunching at his elbow before he dropped his arm back down to his side. As this happened, Ryan reached out to chance a hold on him and Brendon resisted stubbornly, though there was no practical reason why. He was just- being Brendon. Defiant. He stepped away and turned his back on Ryan again, pressing his hips against the counter to lean forward and pick up an apple from the fruit bowl, turning it over in his hands as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. ”If you missed me, you would’ve woken me up.”

[jakob]

As much as the situation sucked, Ryan considered, sometimes, how it might be if he'd stayed. Distance in itself put stress on their relationship - not world-ending, or anything, because they were that deeply connected, it didn't tear them apart like it would others. But he remembered the beginnings of their creative differences, and that was obvious once he'd been able to admit to himself that, yes, Brendon's right, they're going in different directions. They'd verge on this annoying form of arguing, almost correcting one another's opinions and trying to end it on an easy note by tacking on a pet name, or 'I love you,' or something. And then they'd find each other conjuring up ideas all alone, in the depths of the tour bus, not even taking up the ideas with one another but with the other third parties available in the band. It would have gotten much, much worse if they'd stayed how they were. This was... better, all things considered. It was fucking hell having to miss the person you'd chosen to spend your life with almost every night, but it was better than how they would've been.

Ryan watched him struggle with the coffee machine, wondering how his husband he missed so dearly could switch moods on so short a trigger. Well. It did make sense - he wasn't quite giving him any fairness. He knew how it looked; like he'd snubbed his husband's company in favor of Z's. He really was concerned for him, though, even if he knew Brendon wouldn't believe it for the world. When did Brendon even sleep when he wasn't home? He knew Brendon's shows went on past midnight more often than not, then he was too kind to dodge fans after the show when they'd waited literal hours to see him (even if Zack told him off every time), then he was too generous to not do something on social media, a live stream, what have you. And then he loved Ryan too much to leave him without a good night message, a recap of the night, a phone call, a FaceTime, anything. Brendon gave himself to other people too much to ever take the time to himself for something as basic as sleep. Or, from the looks of things, food, sometimes. Ryan had to practically make feasts every time he came home in an effort to coax him to normalcy.

I’m good, actually. Ryan frowned a little, watching him move away, and wrung his hands together for a moment before decisively shifting over to the coffee machine himself. While he spoke, he grabbed Brendon's typical mug of choice and poured him some anyway, tossed in sugar and their most ridiculous flavor of creamer, effectively a dessert drink rather than real coffee - pretty much Brendon's style. You know what I get even less of? Time with my husband. Ryan met his stare, watched him pick the sleeve of (his) sweatshirt, and slid the mug over to him silently. It’d be nice to prioritise that once in a while. "Brendon..." he trailed off, shaking his head. Really, he understood. He got it. But. If Brendon really thought he wasn't a priority, Ryan had no idea how to help him. That was so unbelievably far away from being true. He moved closer and Brendon automatically resisted him, turning away and studying their fruit bowl as if it was truly something to behold.

Ryan continued forward anyway, edging closer to him though all he could see was his back. If you missed me, you would’ve woken me up. Ignoring his past protests, Ryan wrapped an arm around Brendon, aligning them until his chest was pressed to Brendon's back and he could link his hands around his waist. He tucked his chin in Brendon's shoulder. "I miss you more than anything, and I love you more than life. Too much to let you deprive yourself of sleep any more than you already do." Ryan lifted a hand to hold the side of his head, turn his face towards him, feeling his forehead. "See, you feel better already. Tell me you didn't need a full night's sleep for once." He smiled softly, drifting aside until his hip was leaning against the counter, one hand on Brendon's lower back and the other comfortably in his sweatshirt pocket. "Forgive me and kiss me? It feels like it's been years." Realistically he last kissed him the night previous, or on the forehead this morning, but. Whatever.

[Neve]

Sometimes, Brendon missed Ryan so much that it lead to him not even wanting to contact his husband over the phone or otherwise- because then he’d hear his voice and imagine him smiling when he told him something funny and he’d feel his heart swell when he laughed and it’d kill him because he wanted the life of his life with him, all the time. He’d go crazy without being able to FaceTime and all of that shit, sure, but it was- sometimes a curse, rather than a blessing, because he was so close, right there on the screen, but it was so far away when he could be comfortably curled up in Ryan’s arms and it would be warm and safe and he’d be away from the constant buzz and anxiety of tour. Just because he was used to the chaos and hectic nature of being on the road, it didn’t mean he stopped getting overwhelmingly anxious about the whole thing, every time. He was just getting better at hiding it, smiling theoufhthe nervousness and keeping himself above water. When the band had initially split and Brendon went on his first tour without his husband, his confidence and resilience took a crippling nosedive and he almost called off the whole tour for his mental health’s sake, but. He couldn’t do that to the fans. He got over it and pushed through- with a lot of help from Ryan, who flew out to see him just for a few days to make sure Brendon was actually okay.

He was married to the most wonderful man in the world and it was torture to have to be away from him for so long, but. Brendon supposed he brought this upon them both- he had been the one to initially bring up the split, and though it may have been better for the band commercially, in a business sense, it out a noticeable strain on their relationship because Brendon’s schedule was so busy and he was away so fucking much. But they were head over heels for eachother and always would be, so they got through it, as expected. They made distance work and savoured the moments they got to spend alone together. Brendon knew that there would be a lull in his schedule soon, but for the time being, he barely got a chance to breathe between tours and collaborations and musicals and writing albums and doing interviews. It really took it out of him; so, when he finally had a few days free to spend at home, his body screamed at him to catch up on sleep- but his heart told him to just hold on tight to Ryan and never let go.

They had clung to eachother, at first, intertwined and relaxed on the couch in their living room. After hours just enjoying the perfect mundaneness of this, Brendon finally loaded into unconsciousness and Ryan, ever thoughtful, carried him to bed, got into bed himself and pulled a sleeping Brendon into his arms. Ideally, Brendon would have woken up to this, started off his morning with lazy, loving kisses from his husband, relaxed for once in his life, but. Ryan was nowhere to be seen in the bedroom, he was in the living room, and- he wasn’t alone. Z, he loved her, but- seriously? The first alone time they got in god knows how long and Ryan decided this was more important? In his grouchy, sleepy state he couldn’t quite comprehend that maybe Ryan just cared about his health so he stomped off to the kitchen, trying to be a big deal and have Ryan take him seriously- though this was unlikely to happen when he was dressed in clothes way too big for him. Ryan always found this hopelessly endearing. It had been the intention to make Ryan smile but now he was just annoyed and upset and wanted to be alone.

But here Ryan was, making him coffee, trying to kiss up to him to make up for wasting potential quality time with his husband. He wasn’t being unreasonable, he wasn’t. Brendon... Brendon swallowed and spotted the coffee from his peripheral- begrudgingly, he reached out and curled his fingers around the handle, lifting it up to his lips and sipping a little before clearing his throat and setting it back down carefully on the countertop. ”What- Hey,” He mumbled, weakly resisting when Ryan wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and pressed against his back, resting his head in his shoulder. ”Get off,” He argued again, but his voice wavered and it seemed he’d already lost the will to fight back that much. He missed Ryan more than he was annoyed at him, but. That didn’t cancel out how annoyed he was. miss you more than anything, and I love you more than life. Blinking, Brendon literally felt his facial features soften and his muscles relax. In the end, he was a simple man who just needed a little attention to thrive; like a plant, maybe. A very demanding plant, for which the sun was, ironically, Ryan.

I love you too, he thought, too stubborn to say it out loud just yet. Anyway, Ryan already knew that Brendon loved him. All these years had gone by and they no longer needed regular reminding- it was just sweet and romantic. Too much to let you deprive yourself of sleep any more than you already do. If the focused look in Brendon’s eyes was anything to go by, the mug of coffee in front of him was now the most fascinating object in the whole damn world. He was annoyed because, well, Ryan was right. Fuck that guy. Looking out for my health and happiness. Brendon was still stubbornly pouting when Ryan turned his head towards him and pressed a hand against his forehead. ”I’m not ill.” See, you feel better already. Tell me you didn't need a full night's sleep for once. A pause, and Brendon bit his lip, gaze still trained on the mug. ”I needed you more,” He said softly, shifting his weight to one leg as Ryan moved to stand beside him, bodies turned towards eachother. Forgive me and kiss me? It feels like it’s been years.

Reluctantly, Brendon turned towards him, his eyes wide and deep brown, all puppy-dog, looking up from under his eyelashes. ”I just- y’could’ve planned that with Z, like, any other day. We don’t get nearly enough time together, and you spend it-“ He gestured aimlessly, indicative, then dropped his arms to his sides, chewing on his lip again. ”I just miss you.”

[Neve]

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