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fleurdeliseebckpTitle: The One Where Ryan Realizes Nature Has More To Offer Than Hayfever
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fleurdelisee
Word Count: ~9,400
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Gabe/William, past Gabe/Brendon, hints of Jon/Spencer.
POV: Third, Ryan centric.
Summary: When Ryan is forced to join his college's nature club, he's convinced the most exciting thing he'll find is a book with one thousand tofu recipes. He couldn't be more wrong.
Disclaimer: Never happened as far as I know. If you stumbled upon this by Googling your name (seriously, don't you know it was a bad idea?), please, for the love of everything that's good, go away.
Beta:devilswhore_x
Author Notes: I started this months ago, for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
cduclub. I finally got around finishing it, just in time for the deadline. It got longer than planned, to be honest.
“Mr. Ross.” Ryan looks up from where he is picking at a loose thread off his scarf and meets the frown the principal gives him. “You are one of our most talented students. You are passionate and your writing skills are really impressing for a boy your age. But we're concerned about your motivation for things that don't revolve around writing. You are failing your History and Philosophy classes. You do know you need them to obtain your degree now, don’t you?”
Ryan sighs and bites his lip. He knows all that too well. He just doesn't see the utility of learning about wars and ancient Greek dudes when all he wants is to become is a writer. It's not like he'll mention Aristotle or the Hundred Years' War in his stories.
“Now,” Ryan hates how the man says 'now' all the time. “You know we usually withdraw scholarship from students who fail more than one subject? Though, we allow them to keep the said scholarship if they show any sort of interest in extra-curricular activities. You see where I'm going now?”
Ryan nods and bites his lip harder.
“You don't participate in the college's life. You only come over for your classes and then you leave. I'd like you to join a club, son. Any club, but I want you to meet other people, to widen your horizons, to see different things. You don't know it yet, but you'll have a great time, trust me. Here's the list of all the different clubs. Choose one and go meet them, I'm sure they'll be pleased to have a new member.”
Ryan thanks him, shakes his hand and gets up.
“Ryan. Now, if I learn you didn't join any club by the end of the week – and trust me, I will find out – you will lose your scholarship and I know you can't afford to study here without it. Have a good day, son.”
Ryan fakes a smile at the walrus-like man sitting behind the mahogany desk and exits the room. He makes his way through the crowd of people towards the entrance door and exits the school, blinking under the blinding afternoon sun. He sits on the steps and looks at the sheet of paper in his hands.
The list is incredibly long, from stamps collectors – they exist in real life? And they have a club for them? – to cheerleaders to cars to choir. His eyes stop on the poetry club and he smiles. That could be bearable.
He gets up and goes back inside the building. He's never been in the extra-curricular section of the college. Hell, he didn't even know there was one until he realized he didn't know where any of the locals mentioned on the list were.
He finally finds a door with a sign reading ‘poetry club’ half an hour later. He knocks on the door and waits, feeling awkward and out of place. He hates social activities, and he hates having to ask things to people, in this case asking them to take him in their club in the middle of the semester.
A short, dark haired boy opens the door. “Ross,” he snarls, glaring at Ryan. “How can we help you?”
Ryan tries to look inside the local to see if there are any other people to justify the use of the plural form, but he doesn't see anyone. “I'd like to join the poetry club. I'm Ryan.”
Wow, really smooth Ryan. He knows your last name, why the fuck did you have to introduce yourself anyway?
“I'm Pete. And no, you can't. We have an anti-teacher's pet’s policy.”
“A what? What the hell are you talking about?” I'm not a teac--” Ryan stops, because right, he is.
“Don't think you can fool anyone. Every teachers of the creative writing degree speak of you like the fucking sun shines out of your ass. So, no, we won't take you in. Fuck off.”
He slams the door shut, merely inches away from Ryan's nose. Fucking great, now he needs to find another club to join.
Two hours later, he still hasn't found anything. Book club: full. Cinema club: full. Cooking club; he failed the admission test – come on, how was he supposed to differentiate English cream from fresh cream? He even considered joining the dance club but he ran away after he knocked on the door. The last somewhat decent one on his list is the nature club. Between having to learn waltz and a bunch of hippies, he chooses the hippies without a doubt. And hey, who knows, maybe they offer free samples of weed.
The room indicated on the sheet is in a lost corner of the building. He didn't even know there was a room there. He knocks on the door and hears rattling sounds from inside, before a tall boy – or is it a girl? - opens the door. The person is wearing tight jeans, a white button up shirt and black suspenders. They have black-rimmed glasses and a really weird, almost grandpa-ish hat on the head.
“Hi. Are you here about the mice? Because we swear we didn't take them, we didn't even know they were going to dissect them for Biology. You can look inside if you-- wait. You're not a teacher, are you?”
Okay, it's a boy.
“No. I'm Ryan. I'd like to join this club, if I can.” The sentence is so overused that Ryan considers tattooing it on his forehead.
The boy frowns, crosses his arms over his chest and cocks his hip to the side. “Are you serious? If this is a prank, the first five times were not funny, so forget it and go away. We have serious business to do in here.”
“No, I'm serious. I'd like to join this club,” Ryan says and puts on his most earnest smile, the one Spencer says is scary as hell.
“Can you write without doing any mistakes? We need a secretary.”
“Yes?” Ryan really considers running away just now, because the skinny guy is still staring at him with a frown.
“Great! Welcome! Come in, come in! I'm Bill, by the way. Greta! Jon! Brendon! We have a new member and he doesn't do any mistakes when he writes! You can get the mice out, he's not a teacher.”
A blond girl rushes from a corner of the small room to the other, opens a closet and takes two cages out. Her flowery red dress dances around her as she goes to put them on a desk before facing Ryan.
“Hi! I'm Greta. Nice to meet you! You are?”
“Erm. Ryan. Nice to meet you too, Greta.” They shake hands and then she looks at Bill.
“You said you knew someone who would take these little guys?” She says, pointing at the mice.
Ryan leaves them to their conversation and looks around the room. The walls are covered in posters with slogans promoting respect of the environment. Plants are everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, on the side of the window, on every desk. He jumps really hard when a guy comes out from behind a giant fern placed next to him.
“Hey! I'm Jon. I'm taking care of the plants.”
“I'm Ryan.”
Jon smiles before going over another plant, and Ryan's knowledge of plants names doesn't go beyond ferns so he doesn't even try to name it.
“Ryan? You will share your desk with Brendon,” Bill says and points at the corner farthest from the door. All he can see from that Brendon is the top of his head. He's writing something intensively and seems oblivious to the outside world. “You can go and greet him, Greta and I have to go find a better hiding place for these little dudes. See you later Jon?”
“No, I'm leaving in five, I have a class.” The scruffy guy says from behind a spider-looking plant.
Ryan walks over the desk. He hears the door closing behind him, and then the room falls into silence, apart from the sound of pouring water made by Jon, and the muffled music coming out of Brendon's earphones.
Ryan taps his fingers on the desk and waits. When he gets no answer, he does it again. No reaction.
“Forget it, you won't get his attention that way. Try hitting him on the head,” Jon says. “I'm out. See you later Ryan.”
Ryan waits for Jon to be gone to crouch in front of the desk to be at eye-level with Brendon.
“Um. Brendon?”
No answer. Ryan sighs and bites his lip, trying to come up with a way to get the boy's attention without scaring him off. He looks around him, hoping that maybe inspiration will pop out of nowhere.
“Holy shit, hi!”
Ryan jumps and falls on his ass. He stares at the laughing boy and his breath catches a little bit in his throat.
“H-hi! I'm Ryan. I'm a new member. I--” He is the most ridiculous man in the history of ever.
“Here, let me help you up. The floor is disgusting. I don't remember the last time we washed it. Greta insists we use eco-friendly cleaner but she never found any so we just don't wash it. See the stain there? It's from when I tripped over a plant Jon had left in the way and dropped my Red Bull can. That was at the end of the previous semester. I'm Brendon, by the way.” While he was talking, he had pulled Ryan to his feet and began brushing the dust off his jeans. When his hand slightly touches his ass, Brendon backs up and laughs nervously. “I guess you can do that on your own. I'll go back there.” He points at the desk behind him and scrambles to his seat.
“Bill said we would share the desk.” Ryan doesn't recognize his voice, when did it get so high? Seriously, most ridiculous ever.
“Oh, um. Fine. Let me just make you some space, you can get a chair from over there.” He nods his chin forward to show Ryan where to get it. “I just don't have a clue where I'll put all these papers. I guess we'll get another pile on the floor. Let's hope Bill will start using it as a shelf before Greta notices it.”
Ryan sits down facing Brendon, and smiles. Brendon smiles back and grabs a large pile of paper. He gets up and circles the desk to go put it next to another large one of the floor. When he bends to put it down, Ryan tries really hard not to stare. He really tries. He can't help that he's just out of his teenage years and that there's a hot boy with a hot ass bending a few meters away from him.
“So what did Bill say you would do?” Brendon asks as he sits down, his knee brushing against Ryan's as he slips his legs under the desk. He doesn't seem to notice, but Ryan's heart does and stupidly skips a beat.
“He said I would be the secretary, because I write without mistakes.”
Brendon laughs and bites his lip. “Yeah, that's Bill. I'm doing the interactions with people because I'm outgoing, maybe you noticed? Greta's doing all the paperwork, she's the brain. Bill, he…I don't really know what he does. Well, he answers the phone and flirts with that guy from the dance club when he comes in, that Saporta guy. I think you met Jon? He takes care of the plants, and also the animals when we steal some from the Biology department. Now though I think Bill and Greta left with the mice. I had named them, you know? Yeah, after Disney characters. Am I bothering you with all the talking? Greta says I give her headaches.” Brendon chuckles and grabs his pen. He fidgets with it, puts it down and aligns his sheet and the pen, then his Capri Sun pouch before crossing his arms over his chest.
“No, it's fine. I'm not really talkative. You, um. What do you guys do? I mean apart from recreating the Amazonian forest in your local and stealing lab animals?”
“You never noticed us around the school? You saw the hand dryers in the restrooms? We fought for months to get them.”
“No one uses them, they use the paper.”
“Don't tell Greta. She'll murder someone. She's not as sweet and nice as she seems, she's the one who usually yells at people to get things going our way. Um. You maybe saw there's a vegetarian menu now? That's us. The oak trees near the library? They wanted to cut them down but we insisted they could be cured, and we did and now they are still there. You're sure you never heard of us before?” Brendon asks again, looking heartbroken.
“I'm... not... really paying attention to anything going on in the school. I usually lock myself in my dorm room and write. Spencer actually has to tell me when I have classes because sometimes I zone out for hours.”
“You are odd, Ryan - Ryan what?”
“Ross.”
“Oh my god, the Ryan Ross? The little prodigy? The guy whose texts are used for reading analysis for students of other degrees?”
Ryan feels his cheeks burning as he looks down, burying his hands in his scarf.
“Yeah...but they don't use my works for that, do they?” Brendon nods and Ryan's stomach turns. “They are not allowed to do that! That's my work! That's - that's an invasion of my privacy!”
“You forgot you signed this little paper at the beginning of your studies saying you allowed the establishment to use your work for whatever they felt like using it? They don't say it's yours, you know. I know because Pete told me. He's so fucking jealous of you.”
Well, that explains not getting into the poetry club. Fucking Wentz.
When Ryan looks up, Brendon is watching him intently. His eyes are digging holes in Ryan's and the guy doesn't blink which is really starting to scare him.
“You're pretty - er. Prettier than I thought you would be.” Brendon looks away and starts fidgeting with his pencils again. Ryan lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. “I mean. You write wonderfully, and I thought you would be like this obese, acne covered outcast.”
“I'm an outcast though. And you should have seen me three years ago. Pro Activ would have died to use me for a before-after advert.” Brendon clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “You really like what I write?”
“I do. Oh my god, yes. It's like you are able to put words on my thoughts. Like, your characters, they live things I can relate to.” Ryan's stomach tightens. Whatever that boy went through, Ryan really feels for him if he can relate to his characters because they are based on himself, even if he keeps saying they aren't. Ryan realizes it must have shown on his face because Brendon bites his lip and frowns. “I don't - my parents didn't do anything wrong. I mean, I can relate to their thoughts. I know what it feels like to don't belong anywhere. You know?”
“Yes,” Ryan says softly, not looking up.
*
“Oh my god, can you stop hogging the desk? I'm never going to be able to correct all these fucking things if you don't leave enough room for ever just my pens!” Ryan snaps after Brendon pushed some of his things on Ryan's side of the desk.
It's been the same thing every day for the last month. Brendon's book slightly crosses Ryan's imaginary border and Ryan loses it and annoys Brendon until one of them has to leave for a class.
“I'm so not hogging it, Ryan Ross. I haven't crossed the line so stop fucking complaining and let me do my work. You're not the only busy one around here.”
“Oh, really? You have things to do? I thought your job around here was to bug the fuck out of us and make sure there are no moments of silence, ever.”
Brendon kicks him under the desk. “Leave me alone, for god's sake. I'm not in a good mood, okay?”
Ryan knows he should leave it at it, but he's not in a better mood. “You don't have to let it out on me. Oh. My. God. I told you to stop fucking hogging the desk! This is totally not funny anymore. I need room to work and all you're doing is doodling in this notebook and fucking kicking me under the desk!”
“Fuck off, I'm out.” Brendon roughly shuts his notebook and gets up. “I don't have to deal with your fucking PMS. Even Greta's easier to deal with.” He's halfway through the cramped room when he turns around and glares at Ryan. “By the way, the kick was intentional.” He slams the door behind him and Ryan jumps.
“That was really fucking mean, Ross,” Jon says from behind a tall dieffenbachia (Ryan’s learned all the names now. By accident, of course.) “He's never in a bad mood, and the only time he is you push him until he's about to explode.” Jon gets out of his spot behind the plant and sits on Greta's desk. “You must be a complete tease in bed, no? Don't answer, dude.” Ryan opens his mouth to speak but Jon waves him off. “No I'm not done. Give him a break. Maybe you enjoy doing that but in society, normal people don't make their friends angry when they are obviously in a bad mood. I'm telling you this because I know he won't. He never says what bothers him. So, I'm asking you Ryan, to behave.”
Ryan sighs and goes back to his essay, not in the mood for correcting anymore. He'll never admit it but he has a hard time concentrating on his work. He got used to Brendon's constant fidgeting, to his feet tapping a rhythm on the floor, to his fingers drumming against the desk, to his kicks under the table; he is so used to be distracted by Brendon that to work in complete silence is destabilizing.
Two hours later, he has three sentences written. He's about to jump out of the window. Even if they are on the first floor. He hears the door softly opening then closing again. It must be Bill or Greta, even though they are supposed to be in class right now. Same for Jon. One of them must have forgotten something.
That someone puts a Capri Sun pouch in front of him, still not saying a thing. Ryan looks up and sees Brendon. The younger boy is biting the yellow straw of his own juice, looking down at Ryan as if almost afraid of him. He presses the pouch, takes one last sip, coughs a little and throws the empty juice in a garbage can.
“Get up,” he says in a tone that offers no argumentation. Ryan gets to his feet, and he's not even fully standing up that Brendon wraps his arms around his neck. He brings the taller boy close to him and squeezes him. “You know, sometimes people just need hugs. We need hugs, Ryan.”
Ryan freezes for a moment. Not only isn't he not used to be hugged, but he is being hugged by Brendon, and it's Brendon.
“Hug me back, please. I need a hug,” Brendon pleads in his ear, squeezing him again. Slowly, Ryan wraps his arms around Brendon's waist and squeezes.
It's like a wave crashing over him. He feels things; scary ones, dangerous ones, all of them taking over him. He leans into Brendon and hides his face in the boy's neck. His hands are fisting Brendon's shirt and pulling him close, closer, always closer, more and more until it feels like they are as one. Brendon's responding to Ryan in perfect synchronization, mirroring his needing actions.
Ryan can count on his hands the times he's been hugged. Not casual hugs; real, comforting, almost desperate hugs. Three of them belong to his mother; they are faint memories and he can't really remember them, he knows they happened but he doesn't remember how they felt. Five to his previous lovers, and then two from Spencer.
He clings to Brendon, feeling warm and safe in the smaller boy's arms. If tears are escaping his eyes, he doesn't know on what to blame them.
“Ryan? Are you okay?” Brendon whispers in his ear, not breaking their embrace. Ryan's only answer is to squeeze Brendon even tighter than before. He's sure they will both have bruises. “Ry. Seriously, you're scaring me. What's wrong?” Ryan doesn't know how he managed to choke out 'nothing', all he knows is that Brendon didn't believe him and that suddenly he is rubbing his back, stroking his hair and cooing in his ear. If Ryan's crying freely, openly now, he doesn't know what excuse to give to explain it.
It takes a while but eventually, Ryan stops crying and his pride comes back from where it was hiding. “You can let go of me, Bren, I'm fine.”
“I'm letting go but there's no way you are fine.” The dark haired boy slowly unfolds himself from around Ryan's neck and backs up, his chocolate orbs meeting Ryan's honey ones. “Talk to me Ry. I'm scared.”
“I needed a hug more than I thought I did.”
Ryan is out of the door before Brendon can react. He hides in his dorm room for the rest of the day, skipping dinner. He hides behind a book when Spencer comes in, frowning and inquisitive.
Ryan doesn't know how it happened but he's hugging Spencer, clinging to him and crying again. The great thing about Spencer is that he knows the answers to everything. He doesn't need to ask what's wrong. He knows it and knows he can't do anything about it, so he hugs back until his arms hurt.
“We need to hug more often. I need more hugs Spencer.”
“There are a lot of things you need more of Ry, but we'll begin with hugs,” Spencer mutters from Ryan's neck and squeezes Ryan again.
*
“He said you were hot?” Spencer asks him over a steaming cup of coffee.
“Yes. I asked how I looked with Bill's hat, and he said I looked hot. He sounded really honest. It freaks me out. Did I tell you he likes my writing?”
“Something like fifty times, yes. Have you ever met someone who doesn't like what you write?”
“My father,” Ryan says and stares at the melting whipped cream on his coffee.
“Ryan,” Spencer snaps. “Shut the fuck up if you're to bring him in, or else no hugs for a week. Don't pretend you're not addicted to them now. We were discussing your new crush. So, he's good-looking, he's got a nice ass, entrancing eyes, he's funny and he likes your writing. He fights for the respect of the environment, he loves Disney and he told you after five minutes of knowing him that you were pretty. He can deal with your insane mood swings and when he hugged you for the first time, you cried, yet he didn't run away screaming. Remind me why you haven’t already married him?” Spencer chuckles as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“Spence. Shut up.”
“Ah ah!” Ryan jumps at the sudden yell and Spencer chokes on his coffee. “Someone I know!” Jon comes out of nowhere and bends to hug Ryan. His scruffy cheek rubs painfully against Ryan's cheek and he pushes him away with a laugh.
“Hey Jon. You just nearly killed my best friend,” Ryan deadpans, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Oh hey sorry dude. Hey, I recognize you too! You're the 'two lattes with whipped cream' guy. Every Tuesday at two. I'm Jon.”
Spencer looks up and it's Ryan's turn to almost choke. He is not only looking at Jon, he's staring at him like he's the eighth wonder of the world.
“I'm Spencer.”
“Hey Spencer. Oh, here's Bren! Hey Brendon, look who's here!” Jon waves widely and seconds later Brendon is standing by his side with a large grin.
“Hey Ryan! How're you? We didn't see you yesterday! I was all lonely at our desk!”
Spencer looks at Ryan with a shit-eating grin and mouths 'our'. Ryan rolls his eyes and kicks him under the table.
Brendon looks at Spencer and his grin grows larger. “Hey! I know you! You're that guy studying drums! I totally almost fell in your drums that day at band rehearsal, last semester! Remember me?”
“Bren, who gave you Red Bull?” Jon says sternly.
“Greta. I have to go deal with the principal about recycling bins.” He flails his hand and grins. “You remember me?” He asks Spencer again.
“Brendon Urie, right? Yeah, you're pretty famous.”
“He is?” Ryan asks and frowns, earning a slap behind the head from Brendon.
“In the music degrees realm he is. The parallel universe, the other side of the mirror, where they live off ramen noodles and Red Bull,” Jon says, waving his hands in a way that he probably intends to be mystical. To Ryan, he just looks spastic. “In the real world, though, he's pretty much an outcast.”
Brendon glares at Jon. “That's because they never heard me play or sing. You didn't answer me, Ross. Where the hell were you?”
“I was caught up in writing.” Ryan says to his half-empty mug.
“Dude, I had brought my Disney CDs, we were supposed to listen to them. You better be there tomorrow,” he says with a glare. “Besides, Greta wants you to take part of the next -” He bends closer to Ryan and looks swiftly around him, “- rescue mission. She needs to explain how it'll work and stuff.”
He straightens up and smiles brightly. “I'm off, guys. It was nice meeting you Spencer. Jon, you buy dinner today, don't forget. Ryan, I was really happy to see you.”
He bends down and hugs Ryan tightly. “I missed my hug buddy yesterday.”
His eyes linger on Ryan's face before he runs away.
“Wow,” Spencer breathes out. “That was something. Ry? Does he come with Ritalin? I never thought you could have a crush on someone that energetic. You like them quiet and forlorn usually.”
“You have a crush on Bden?” Jon pulls a chair and sits down with them.
“No! I don't! Spencer's only saying that to bother me.”
“'Oh Spence, he's so gorgeous! He's funny, and he's nice! He has an awesome laugh and when he smiles it lights the whole room! I wish I could -'” Spencer says in what is probably supposed to be Ryan's voice.
“Shut the fuck up Spencer Smith,” Ryan mutters angrily. “And I don't sound like that.”
“'Oh Spencer, when he hugs me I feel like nothing can harm me, I feel like he's protecting me. I seriously think I love him,'” Spencer continues in his Ryan's impersonation.
“Stop it,” Ryan snaps and puts his head on the table. He hears them both laughing and he groans. Spencer will never let him live this down.
*
“Ryan!” Brendon shouts as Ryan enters the room. He is completely overwhelmed by all that's going on in the small room. Music is blasting through the speakers of an ancient stereo, Bill's dancing with Greta, making her twirl around and she looks like a flower with her dress puffing and dancing around her. Jon and Spencer are discussing around a miniature palm tree, Spencer's smile bigger than Ryan's ever seen it. Brendon is standing up on a desk and was apparently singing along before Ryan entered. “Ryan! Join us and have fun! We're throwing a party!”
“Fuck yeah!” A tall guy appears out of nowhere and high fives Brendon before joining Bill and Greta. He's a little scary, in Ryan's opinion, with his neon clothes and the slightly creepy look in his eyes.
“Ryan Ross, meet Gabe!” Jon says over the music. “Gabe is William's boyfriend and Brendon's ex! He's a lot scarier than he looks!” Jon's statement is enhanced by Gabe grabbing Bill and pressing himself against his back, his hips rocking hard into his ass and his hands stroking his chest. As if it wasn't enough, he starts singing along, “Tight hip huggers, shake a little something, I need that, huh, to get me off, sweat'n 'til my clothes come off.” William leans back and moans.
Someone needs to explain to Ryan when he left college to go to a nightclub because he seriously doesn't remember.
“I bet you miss my ass,” Brendon says from his place on the desk. “Bill's pretty sexy but he's got nothing to compete with my apple bottom.”
“Yeah, I have to admit that you're the tightest I ever had.” Gabe wiggles his eyebrows at Brendon before placing his lips on Bill's neck.
The scene is surreal. Ryan stands there, watching these two unlikely ex-lovers discussing their sexual life like it's normal to do that in public.
Brendon laughs loudly and jumps off the desk, landing gracefully when Ryan would probably have slumped to the floor and broke his ankle. Next to Gabe, he looks so minuscule Ryan can't imagine the two of them - yeah. He can't.
“What are we celebrating?” Ryan asks after a while. “And why are you here Spence?”
“Jon invited me.” Spencer and Jon exchange a knowing smile.
“We're celebrating because the cafeteria agreed to use reusable dishes. I've been fighting for this for the last two years. I couldn't be happier! Tomorrow, I'm starting my new battle! The trees they want to cut in the yard. Who's willing to get chained to one of them with me?” Greta shouts happily and Gabe makes her twirl. Her blue and yellow dress follows her moves, her hair sending waves of flowery scents in the air.
Ryan is actually worried she'll do it for real, and since he apparently can't say no to her, he'll definitely end up chained to a tree. Awesome.
“Ryan! Dance with me!” Brendon grabs his waist and pulls him so that their bodies crash together.
Ryan gasps, probably louder than he thought he would because Spencer bursts out laughing.
“C'mon, move a little! I won't bite you if you do something like this -” Brendon puts one hand on the small of Ryan's back, one on his shoulder and moves his hips from side to side.
“Or this.” He grinds his hips into Ryan's and the taller boy gasps again, his eyes closing.
Ryan feels Brendon's hand sliding up from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, where it massages softly. “You are so tense. You need to relax,” Brendon breathes in his ear, making Ryan shiver.
The music stops and then Brendon is gone. Ryan bites his lip to hold back the frustrated moan that threatened to escape his lips at the sudden lack of warmth and Brendon. He opens his eyes and sees Brendon by the stereo, fumbling in his bag.
“There you are!” He victoriously takes a CD out of his bag and puts it in the stereo. He pushes a few buttons before turning to Jon.
“Walker! When I tell you, can you press play?” He winks as he passes in front of Ryan and climbs back on the desk before asking Ryan to join him and extending his arm out to help him up.
“Hell no. I'm not climbing on that thing. I'll fall and break my neck for sure.”
“You give me no other choice. This is going to be painfully cliché, I apologize, but you're a stubborn guy Ross.”
Brendon straightens his shoulders, pulls his pants up and crouches down on the desk. He extends his hand towards Ryan, a smirk on his face. “Do you trust me?”
“What?” Brendon isn't really quoting Aladdin, is he?
“Wow, the right line, you know your classics! Now is the time for you to start the record, Jon.” He waits for the music to start then extends his hand again. “Do you trust me?” Brendon's grin could compete with the Cheshire Cat's.
Ryan smiles slyly and takes Brendon's hand. “Yes.”
The smaller boy helps him on the desk and wraps an arm around his thin waist. He digs his fingers in Ryan's skin, making it tingle nicely. “You're Jasmine,” Brendon quickly says before singing along.
Ryan can't take his eyes off Brendon. He never heard anyone singing like that. He knows he's staring at him wide-eyed but he can't help it. Ryan misses his cue and mumbles the few lyrics he has left before it's Brendon's turn again. His eyes are locked with Brendon's and everything around them seems frozen in time.
He always hated clichéd situations, all the butterflies-in-stomach, fireworks, electricity and all the stuff from Harlequin novels. But he can't deny that the way his eyes are locked with Brendon's creates reactions that are not normal. The sweating hands, the quick heartbeats, the way it's hard to breathe, how he got closer to Brendon's warm body without noticing it, how his legs are about to give out and how his brain shut down to only hear Brendon's voice; all these are not normal things. Ryan is not bothering anymore to sing along, he's just staring at Brendon without moving. He can't move. Their faces are so close their noses are almost touching. Brendon's breath smells of coffee and a brand of candy Ryan can't recognize.
Twizzlers, Brendon smells of coffee and Twizzlers. The song apparently ended because suddenly Gabe is whistling at them. Ryan would blush if only Brendon would stop looking at him this way. Each time one of them breathes in, their chests touch. That's too much contact for Ryan, with Brendon's hands on his back and their thighs pressed together. Something bad will happen soon if they don't move.
“Hey could you be any louder? Some of us are trying to work around here!”
Ryan turns his head to the door and sees Pete, an angry look adorning his face. William and Greta immediately go see him to probably sweet talk him to let them celebrate without complaining. Ryan looks at them as they do it, scared to look back at Brendon. He feels the boy's forehead pressing against his temple as a warm sigh brushes his scorching cheek.
“You're so oblivious.”
Brendon jumps off the desk and leaves the room. Everyone watches him go then sets their gaze on Ryan, trying to understand something Ryan doesn't understand himself.
*
“Ryan?” Ryan looks up from his hands and sees Brendon running towards him.
Well, he sees a dark silhouette running towards him but it can only be Brendon, because who would be wandering near the Science department at two in the morning?
“You're ready?” He pants slightly as he reaches Ryan, and no, Ryan doesn't find it extremely sexy, shut up.
“Yeah. I guess. What if we get caught?”
“I'll invent some bullshit while you run away. Now let's go before the security guard comes back.” He grabs Ryan's hand and pulls him after him.
The door is miraculously unlocked - “the guard always leaves it open when he goes to get his fourth coffee of the night” - and Brendon makes sure to close it silently behind him.
“Third door on the right. Bill made sure it stayed unlocked,” Brendon whispers, his mouth almost pressed to Ryan's ear. His warm breath tickles the sensitive skin and Ryan shivers.
“Are you okay? Not too nervous? You're shivering.”
“No, I - I'm cold, that's all.”
Brendon lets go of Ryan's hand and wraps his arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer. He rubs Ryan's arm a few times. “Better?”
Better? Better? Ryan can feel his whole body burning. He is two seconds away from spontaneous combustion. He was cold before Brendon touched him, but now he is scorching. He could fry eggs on his cheeks. His whole body screams at him to push Brendon against the closest wall and - and fuck him, for heaven's sake.
“Yeah, thank you,” he hears himself saying though he doesn't know how a coherent sentence formed in his brain.
“Anytime.”
Brendon still has his arm around Ryan's shoulder and doesn't seem to want to take it away. His hip bumps against Ryan's as they walk, oh god. This is too much, he won't be responsible for his actions in a few seconds, he will grab Brendon and rape him if he has too, he's never been so turned on by such a light touch in his entire life, he'll -
“We're there. Let's do it quickly, we have only five minutes left. C'mon, get in.”
Brendon pushes him softly then gets in, closing the door quietly.
“Over there, put that on the cages.” He hands Ryan a pile of black cloths. “Don't hit any furniture or we're caught.”
Ryan walks to the wall Brendon pointed him and sees from the moonlight five small lined up cages. He puts the clothes on them then feels Brendon breath against his neck.
“Ready?” he breathes and Ryan nods stiffly, tensing as he feels the warmth radiating from Brendon's body.
“Alright, grab two, I'll take the three others. We have to get them to our room before that guard comes back. We have ten minutes.”
They almost run into a guard as they make their ways inside the extra-curricular building. Two more minutes and they are putting the cages down on Bill's desk, sighing in relief.
“That was fucking close,” Ryan gasps, still shaking from nerves.
“Yeah, I was sure we were dead. You did a good job Ry.” Brendon's smiling in the moonlight and Ryan feels warm inside.
“You too. Are we done? Can we go sleep?” To support his statement, Ryan yawns loudly.
Brendon shrugs. “Do you have a class tomorrow morning?”
“Not before three. Why?” Ryan's mind running at two hundred miles. Brendon didn't mean - he doesn't want them to - it can't be.
“Want a coffee? Or a hot chocolate? I have the key for the student café. I thought we could go there, you know, to celebrate this perfect rescue mission.” Brendon is fidgeting with the keys, pushing dust balls with the tip of his red sneakers, looking three thousands kinds of cute.
“Are you asking me out?” Ryan's throat is tight and dry.
“Can I?” Brendon's voice is barely audible over the constant clicking of his keys.
“Yes.”
Ryan can't hear his own answer over his heartbeats. Mixed with Brendon's keys clicking, it sounds like an infernal cog machine. He is hot and cold, sweaty and shivering, nervous and utterly happy.
Brendon clears his throat and straightens his shoulders that he held slumped for the past minutes. “Let's go!”
He waits for Ryan next to the door and when they are both outside with the door locked, he grabs Ryan's hand and squeezes it. They walk silently to the student café; not out of things to say, but afraid to get caught. Brendon unlocks the kitchen's door and pulls Ryan in. He locks it back behind them and puts the lights on.
“Are you sure we won't get caught?” Ryan asks nervously as he sits on a counter.
“No danger. They never go this far in this hallway. So, what can I serve you Mr. Ross?” he says as he takes two mugs out of a cupboard.
“A hot chocolate, please. I want to be able to sleep.” Very unlikely to happen, even without caffeine.
“Choose one of these while I warm the milk,” Brendon says, opening another cupboard. “You can put whatever you want in it.”
Ryan jumps off the counter and goes to the cupboard. Inside there are rows and rows of syrups to put in beverages.
“Can I get, like, mint? Oh, no cinnamon. Shit, I love hazelnuts too. Vanilla! Erm.”
Decisions. He sucks at them.
He tenses as he feels arms wrapping around his waist. Brendon rests his chin on his shoulder.
“I could put them all in but it'll be disgusting.”
His breath tickles Ryan's neck and he leans back into Brendon without even realizing. Brendon's response is to tighten his grip on the skinny boy's waist.
“Can you make me one of those Christmas special?” He puts his arms over Brendon's and sighs as the younger boy begins stroking his stomach through his shirt.
“Which one? Eggnog, candy cane, mint chocolate, gingerbread?”
“Eggnog,” Ryan can only whisper now, he's too entranced by Brendon's soft strokes and warm body against his back.
“Alright!”
As suddenly as he came, Brendon's no longer holding him close but at the other side of the room, preparing their drinks. Ryan staggers a little and shakes at the sudden lack of comforting warmth.
“Do you want cookies? You can go and pick some. Just, like, only take two or three otherwise they'll notice,” Brendon calls from the other side of the kitchen. “Can you get me one chocolate chips one? Oh, no, wait. M&Ms one, please.”
Ryan opens a few cupboards before finding the cookies. He grabs two for Brendon and then one oatmeal one for himself. “Where are you?” he then calls out.
“I'm coming, hold on. Stay where you are. Do you want whipped cream and cinnamon powder on it?”
“Yes please.”
Ryan pulls himself up to sit on the counter. Not long after, Brendon appears, holding two steaming cups with a mountain of whipped cream on both. One of them as grated chocolate on it, too. Brendon gives him that one, puts his own down and jumps on the counter next to Ryan. He thanks him, trying to hide the goofy grin that's threatening to betray his light head.
“No problem.”
Brendon smiles over his cup before taking a sip. Whipped cream gets on his nose and gives him an adorable, five-year-old look.
“You have whipped cream on your nose.” Ryan points it slightly and Brendon smiles.
“Get if off, then.” Brendon's voice is strange, sort of strangled and, husky?
Ryan doesn't think before leaning in. He doesn't think before pressing his dry lips to Brendon's nose. He doesn't think when his tongue twirls out of his mouth to lick the cream off Brendon's nose. He only starts to think when he hears Brendon gasping.
“Holy shit. That wasn't planned. I'm so sorry.” Ryan puts his hands over his mouth and stares in horror at Brendon.
“Don't apologize. I wasn't clear enough. I should have - dude. You kissed my nose. You licked my nose. Your first instinct was to lick my nose, not use a paper towel. I'm two seconds away from kissing you.”
Ryan doesn't move. He sees Brendon smirking, leaning in and then he only sees a blur of pale skin and black-rimmed glasses. Brendon's lips touch his softly and he sighs, he leans in. He kisses back, his hands finding their way on Brendon's shoulders, holding him firmly in place so he won't move.
*
When Spencer finds them in the morning, the look on his face could fool anyone into thinking it's Christmas. Ryan is lying on his stomach, his head resting on Brendon's chest, his hand balled in his shirt – because yes, they are fully clothed, thank you very much – and his leg wrapped over his thighs. Brendon is clinging to him, one of his hands still in Ryan's hair from when it lulled him to sleep by stroking soft circles into his scalp.
*
Ryan looks up every time he hears the door opening. He then groans in frustration and goes back to glaring at his essay, or more what is supposed to be his essay but is at the moment a blank sheet of paper.
“Waiting for someone?” Jon asks from somewhere in the middle of their own miniature forest.
For the past two weeks, they have been very subtle. They made sure to act as if nothing had change until they were more confident in their relationship and were ready to make it public. Today is that day, or so Brendon decided.
“His class ends in ten minutes. He'll run to get here. You'll see him soon.” Ryan glares in the direction of Jon. He is more and more convinced that Jon has some kind of super perceptive powers or something.
The door opens once again and Ryan recoils in his chair as he sees Gabe.
“The one I was looking for! So you're Brendon's new toy? I'm here to give you tricks to make him go straight to cloud nine,” he says as he pulls a chair to sit in front of Ryan.
Heaven help him. How come everyone knows, suddenly?
When Greta enters the room, Ryan makes a mental note to thank god later.
“Hi guys. Gabe, William's buying lunch so no, you can't have half of mine, no I won't have sex with you and leave the lovebird alone. You're the only one who wants to hear about your sex life.”
Seriously, this isn't fair.
“Even if Spencer didn't tell us how he found the two of you intertwined every morning in two weeks, we would know because Brendon chanted it all morning long,” Jon says. “But it wasn't hard to guess you two were about to become a thing. You were constantly stripping him with your eyes.”
Ryan is getting really sick of everyone knowing everything. The door opens and an out of breath Brendon comes in. His eyes scan the room and when they meet Ryan's, he smiles widely and quickly crosses the room to their desk. Ryan can't stop the smile playing on his lips as Brendon bends down to kiss his forehead in a loud, wet kiss. He looks around him for a chair, shrugs and sits on Ryan's lap, squirming and tugging at him until he's curled up against his chest with Ryan's arms wrapped around him and why was Ryan mad again?
“Hi,” he whispers and pecks at Ryan's temple.
“Hey,” Ryan whispers back, leaning his head against Brendon's. “I missed you.”
“You're such a girl, Ross,” Brendon snickers before kissing Ryan's cheek.
“Woah shit I missed something, didn't I?” Ryan hears William shouting. He looks up and sees him entering the room, balancing bags in his arms. He is staring at them with wide eyes and a grin on his face. “It's about time guys.”
He drops the bag on his desk and makes his way to Gabe. He plants a kiss on the top of his head and ruffles his hair.
Ryan smiles at him and then closes his eyes because – oh shit – Brendon's mouthing at his jaw and – oh fuck – it feels great. He bites down hard on his lips to hold back a moan that is threatening to escape from his mouth and he feels Brendon smiling against his skin.
“Ry,” he hears him breathe in his ear. “Ry, come back to us. You have to go to class.”
Ryan shakes his head and keeps his eyes closed, leaning his head in Brendon's direction in hopes he will kiss him again. He opens his eyes when he doesn't and Brendon is looking at him with a serious frown.
“Ry, seriously. You know you can't skip Philosophy.”
Brendon gets off him and helps him up. He packs his things and hands him his bag with a small smile.
“Who's the girl now, Urie?” Ryan jokes half-heartedly and Brendon pouts. “I don't want to go.”
“I know. But you'll see me soon enough, trust me. Go now.”
Brendon kisses him one last time and Ryan hears everyone saying their goodbyes as he leaves the room.
*
He has to stay awake. He cannot sleep. It would mean instant failure if he slept. His teacher would never forgive him, so he has to stay awake. No matter how boring Diogenes' tribal life might be, he has to stay awake. He shifts in his chair and rests his heavy head on his hand. He won't make it. He can feel his eyelids closing and he keeps getting these numb flashes in his whole body that come when you're about to fall asleep.
He had closed his eyes for just a few seconds – only to rest them, nothing else, he didn't at all fell asleep for almost half an hour – when the classroom door shuts loudly and makes his heart stop. He raises his head and a large grin breaks on his face.
“Sorry!” Brendon says as he walks up all the way to the teacher's desk, a dangerously balanced pile of neon green sheets in his arms. He groans in relief as he drops them on the desk and he twists his wrists a few times before looking at the classroom with a large smile.
“Hey! So, I'm here to talk to you about the next activities organized by the nature club, it won't be long.” His eyes scan the room and his smile gets bigger when he meets Ryan's. “Ross, can you come and help me pass these sheets around?”
Walking up the aisle is harder than it seems with sleep-numbed limbs. He slightly trips over his feet as he reaches the front and Brendon chuckles softly.
“You okay?” he asks him and when Ryan nods, Brendon pushes a pile of sheets in his arms. “Thank you,” he says with a smile and presses his hand to his forearm for a brief second.
Ryan starts passing the leaflets around the classroom while Brendon babbles about some things he knows he should remember since Greta talked non-stop about them for the past month. He's not fully awake, that's why he's slow and retarded.
“- and, of course, the yearly camping trip.”
“The what?” Ryan is suddenly very awake.
“Don’t you ever listen to Greta? She told you three times last week that we're all going camping during Spring break. It's a tradition.”
No. He is not going to spend not even an hour in the forest. This is not happening. Never.
“We'll discuss this later, Ry,” Brendon says in a sigh before pointedly changing the subject.
When they meet after Ryan's class, Brendon immediately starts praising the trip, very obviously trying to sell it to Ryan.
“It's going to be great! We're going to roast marshmallows and sing around campfires and sleep in tents!”
“And get eaten alive by mosquitoes and being awakened at the crack of dawn by birds and not shower for a whole week.”
“Marshmallows, Ryan. Think about them.”
Ryan stops walking to glare more efficiently at Brendon, who only grins innocently.
*
Ryan waves his hand erratically in front of his face as a cloud of flies gets in his way. The only light is radiating from the large fire Jon and Gabe made hours ago and happily fueled all evening long. Ryan can only see the silhouette of people against the bright orange of the fire. The smell of smoke is strong but he can't really smell it over the three layers of bug spray he showered himself in.
Greta nearly threw him in the river, yelling that this spray was full of pesticides and agents that destroy the ozone layer. Five hours later, when the deer flies showed up, she was the first in line to borrow it.
That's what he hates about camping. It takes ten minutes to go the bathroom and he risked his life five hundred times on the way and back. He doesn't see what's so fun in that, honestly. Even after two days in the middle of the forest, he still doesn't find it amusing or interesting. All he wants to do is go back to college and spend a night on his bed. That would really be heaven.
Ryan yawns loudly as he approaches the circle of people sitting around the fire, roasting marshmallows and chattering happily. Gabe made them do two hundred different activities that day, from kayaking to hebertism. His whole body is sore and he could seriously sleep for three days.
He sits down next to Brendon and only then does he notice the guitar in his hands. He's softly plucking the strings, humming notes under his breath; very obviously searching for a song to play. Ryan rests his head on Brendon's shoulder and yawns again. He hears Brendon giving the guitar to someone else before William's voice raises over the discussions, singing a song Ryan never heard before.
“Come with me,” Brendon whispers before getting up and taking Ryan's hand in his.
Ryan forces his tired body up and follows after Brendon, getting worried when he enters the woods. He looks like he knows where he's headed and that's the only thing that's keeping Ryan from running in the opposite direction – this, and the fact that he would definitely get lost on his way back.
After a few minutes of walking (or tripping over everything in Ryan's case), they emerge in a clearing and Ryan rolls his eyes at how cliché it is.
“Don't roll your eyes, Ross. This is my attempt at being romantic and making you like camping all at the same time,” Brendon snaps.
He lets go of Ryan's hand and lies down on the ground, motioning to Ryan to join him. He gets down on the ground and feels Brendon lacing their fingers once again.
“Look at this,” Brendon whispers. “You don't see skies like this everywhere. Don't tell me it's not worth getting devoured by bugs and shitting behind a tree.”
Ryan hums and shrugs, feeling his eyelids getting heavier. He will regret sleeping there but right now, he couldn't care less. He'll even ignore his fear of waking up with spiders crawling all over him. And he doesn't care if the next day Greta wants them to go hiking to see rare specimens of plants. Her itinerary, the last time Ryan checked the map, was five miles long.
He doesn't care because Brendon scooted closer to him to use his chest as a pillow, and he balled his shirt in his fist, and he's making these little snoring noises and Ryan would never admit it, but he doesn't regret coming.
Author:
fleurdeliseeWord Count: ~9,400
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Gabe/William, past Gabe/Brendon, hints of Jon/Spencer.
POV: Third, Ryan centric.
Summary: When Ryan is forced to join his college's nature club, he's convinced the most exciting thing he'll find is a book with one thousand tofu recipes. He couldn't be more wrong.
Disclaimer: Never happened as far as I know. If you stumbled upon this by Googling your name (seriously, don't you know it was a bad idea?), please, for the love of everything that's good, go away.
Beta:
devilswhore_xAuthor Notes: I started this months ago, for
cduclub. I finally got around finishing it, just in time for the deadline. It got longer than planned, to be honest.“Mr. Ross.” Ryan looks up from where he is picking at a loose thread off his scarf and meets the frown the principal gives him. “You are one of our most talented students. You are passionate and your writing skills are really impressing for a boy your age. But we're concerned about your motivation for things that don't revolve around writing. You are failing your History and Philosophy classes. You do know you need them to obtain your degree now, don’t you?”
Ryan sighs and bites his lip. He knows all that too well. He just doesn't see the utility of learning about wars and ancient Greek dudes when all he wants is to become is a writer. It's not like he'll mention Aristotle or the Hundred Years' War in his stories.
“Now,” Ryan hates how the man says 'now' all the time. “You know we usually withdraw scholarship from students who fail more than one subject? Though, we allow them to keep the said scholarship if they show any sort of interest in extra-curricular activities. You see where I'm going now?”
Ryan nods and bites his lip harder.
“You don't participate in the college's life. You only come over for your classes and then you leave. I'd like you to join a club, son. Any club, but I want you to meet other people, to widen your horizons, to see different things. You don't know it yet, but you'll have a great time, trust me. Here's the list of all the different clubs. Choose one and go meet them, I'm sure they'll be pleased to have a new member.”
Ryan thanks him, shakes his hand and gets up.
“Ryan. Now, if I learn you didn't join any club by the end of the week – and trust me, I will find out – you will lose your scholarship and I know you can't afford to study here without it. Have a good day, son.”
Ryan fakes a smile at the walrus-like man sitting behind the mahogany desk and exits the room. He makes his way through the crowd of people towards the entrance door and exits the school, blinking under the blinding afternoon sun. He sits on the steps and looks at the sheet of paper in his hands.
The list is incredibly long, from stamps collectors – they exist in real life? And they have a club for them? – to cheerleaders to cars to choir. His eyes stop on the poetry club and he smiles. That could be bearable.
He gets up and goes back inside the building. He's never been in the extra-curricular section of the college. Hell, he didn't even know there was one until he realized he didn't know where any of the locals mentioned on the list were.
He finally finds a door with a sign reading ‘poetry club’ half an hour later. He knocks on the door and waits, feeling awkward and out of place. He hates social activities, and he hates having to ask things to people, in this case asking them to take him in their club in the middle of the semester.
A short, dark haired boy opens the door. “Ross,” he snarls, glaring at Ryan. “How can we help you?”
Ryan tries to look inside the local to see if there are any other people to justify the use of the plural form, but he doesn't see anyone. “I'd like to join the poetry club. I'm Ryan.”
Wow, really smooth Ryan. He knows your last name, why the fuck did you have to introduce yourself anyway?
“I'm Pete. And no, you can't. We have an anti-teacher's pet’s policy.”
“A what? What the hell are you talking about?” I'm not a teac--” Ryan stops, because right, he is.
“Don't think you can fool anyone. Every teachers of the creative writing degree speak of you like the fucking sun shines out of your ass. So, no, we won't take you in. Fuck off.”
He slams the door shut, merely inches away from Ryan's nose. Fucking great, now he needs to find another club to join.
Two hours later, he still hasn't found anything. Book club: full. Cinema club: full. Cooking club; he failed the admission test – come on, how was he supposed to differentiate English cream from fresh cream? He even considered joining the dance club but he ran away after he knocked on the door. The last somewhat decent one on his list is the nature club. Between having to learn waltz and a bunch of hippies, he chooses the hippies without a doubt. And hey, who knows, maybe they offer free samples of weed.
The room indicated on the sheet is in a lost corner of the building. He didn't even know there was a room there. He knocks on the door and hears rattling sounds from inside, before a tall boy – or is it a girl? - opens the door. The person is wearing tight jeans, a white button up shirt and black suspenders. They have black-rimmed glasses and a really weird, almost grandpa-ish hat on the head.
“Hi. Are you here about the mice? Because we swear we didn't take them, we didn't even know they were going to dissect them for Biology. You can look inside if you-- wait. You're not a teacher, are you?”
Okay, it's a boy.
“No. I'm Ryan. I'd like to join this club, if I can.” The sentence is so overused that Ryan considers tattooing it on his forehead.
The boy frowns, crosses his arms over his chest and cocks his hip to the side. “Are you serious? If this is a prank, the first five times were not funny, so forget it and go away. We have serious business to do in here.”
“No, I'm serious. I'd like to join this club,” Ryan says and puts on his most earnest smile, the one Spencer says is scary as hell.
“Can you write without doing any mistakes? We need a secretary.”
“Yes?” Ryan really considers running away just now, because the skinny guy is still staring at him with a frown.
“Great! Welcome! Come in, come in! I'm Bill, by the way. Greta! Jon! Brendon! We have a new member and he doesn't do any mistakes when he writes! You can get the mice out, he's not a teacher.”
A blond girl rushes from a corner of the small room to the other, opens a closet and takes two cages out. Her flowery red dress dances around her as she goes to put them on a desk before facing Ryan.
“Hi! I'm Greta. Nice to meet you! You are?”
“Erm. Ryan. Nice to meet you too, Greta.” They shake hands and then she looks at Bill.
“You said you knew someone who would take these little guys?” She says, pointing at the mice.
Ryan leaves them to their conversation and looks around the room. The walls are covered in posters with slogans promoting respect of the environment. Plants are everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, on the side of the window, on every desk. He jumps really hard when a guy comes out from behind a giant fern placed next to him.
“Hey! I'm Jon. I'm taking care of the plants.”
“I'm Ryan.”
Jon smiles before going over another plant, and Ryan's knowledge of plants names doesn't go beyond ferns so he doesn't even try to name it.
“Ryan? You will share your desk with Brendon,” Bill says and points at the corner farthest from the door. All he can see from that Brendon is the top of his head. He's writing something intensively and seems oblivious to the outside world. “You can go and greet him, Greta and I have to go find a better hiding place for these little dudes. See you later Jon?”
“No, I'm leaving in five, I have a class.” The scruffy guy says from behind a spider-looking plant.
Ryan walks over the desk. He hears the door closing behind him, and then the room falls into silence, apart from the sound of pouring water made by Jon, and the muffled music coming out of Brendon's earphones.
Ryan taps his fingers on the desk and waits. When he gets no answer, he does it again. No reaction.
“Forget it, you won't get his attention that way. Try hitting him on the head,” Jon says. “I'm out. See you later Ryan.”
Ryan waits for Jon to be gone to crouch in front of the desk to be at eye-level with Brendon.
“Um. Brendon?”
No answer. Ryan sighs and bites his lip, trying to come up with a way to get the boy's attention without scaring him off. He looks around him, hoping that maybe inspiration will pop out of nowhere.
“Holy shit, hi!”
Ryan jumps and falls on his ass. He stares at the laughing boy and his breath catches a little bit in his throat.
“H-hi! I'm Ryan. I'm a new member. I--” He is the most ridiculous man in the history of ever.
“Here, let me help you up. The floor is disgusting. I don't remember the last time we washed it. Greta insists we use eco-friendly cleaner but she never found any so we just don't wash it. See the stain there? It's from when I tripped over a plant Jon had left in the way and dropped my Red Bull can. That was at the end of the previous semester. I'm Brendon, by the way.” While he was talking, he had pulled Ryan to his feet and began brushing the dust off his jeans. When his hand slightly touches his ass, Brendon backs up and laughs nervously. “I guess you can do that on your own. I'll go back there.” He points at the desk behind him and scrambles to his seat.
“Bill said we would share the desk.” Ryan doesn't recognize his voice, when did it get so high? Seriously, most ridiculous ever.
“Oh, um. Fine. Let me just make you some space, you can get a chair from over there.” He nods his chin forward to show Ryan where to get it. “I just don't have a clue where I'll put all these papers. I guess we'll get another pile on the floor. Let's hope Bill will start using it as a shelf before Greta notices it.”
Ryan sits down facing Brendon, and smiles. Brendon smiles back and grabs a large pile of paper. He gets up and circles the desk to go put it next to another large one of the floor. When he bends to put it down, Ryan tries really hard not to stare. He really tries. He can't help that he's just out of his teenage years and that there's a hot boy with a hot ass bending a few meters away from him.
“So what did Bill say you would do?” Brendon asks as he sits down, his knee brushing against Ryan's as he slips his legs under the desk. He doesn't seem to notice, but Ryan's heart does and stupidly skips a beat.
“He said I would be the secretary, because I write without mistakes.”
Brendon laughs and bites his lip. “Yeah, that's Bill. I'm doing the interactions with people because I'm outgoing, maybe you noticed? Greta's doing all the paperwork, she's the brain. Bill, he…I don't really know what he does. Well, he answers the phone and flirts with that guy from the dance club when he comes in, that Saporta guy. I think you met Jon? He takes care of the plants, and also the animals when we steal some from the Biology department. Now though I think Bill and Greta left with the mice. I had named them, you know? Yeah, after Disney characters. Am I bothering you with all the talking? Greta says I give her headaches.” Brendon chuckles and grabs his pen. He fidgets with it, puts it down and aligns his sheet and the pen, then his Capri Sun pouch before crossing his arms over his chest.
“No, it's fine. I'm not really talkative. You, um. What do you guys do? I mean apart from recreating the Amazonian forest in your local and stealing lab animals?”
“You never noticed us around the school? You saw the hand dryers in the restrooms? We fought for months to get them.”
“No one uses them, they use the paper.”
“Don't tell Greta. She'll murder someone. She's not as sweet and nice as she seems, she's the one who usually yells at people to get things going our way. Um. You maybe saw there's a vegetarian menu now? That's us. The oak trees near the library? They wanted to cut them down but we insisted they could be cured, and we did and now they are still there. You're sure you never heard of us before?” Brendon asks again, looking heartbroken.
“I'm... not... really paying attention to anything going on in the school. I usually lock myself in my dorm room and write. Spencer actually has to tell me when I have classes because sometimes I zone out for hours.”
“You are odd, Ryan - Ryan what?”
“Ross.”
“Oh my god, the Ryan Ross? The little prodigy? The guy whose texts are used for reading analysis for students of other degrees?”
Ryan feels his cheeks burning as he looks down, burying his hands in his scarf.
“Yeah...but they don't use my works for that, do they?” Brendon nods and Ryan's stomach turns. “They are not allowed to do that! That's my work! That's - that's an invasion of my privacy!”
“You forgot you signed this little paper at the beginning of your studies saying you allowed the establishment to use your work for whatever they felt like using it? They don't say it's yours, you know. I know because Pete told me. He's so fucking jealous of you.”
Well, that explains not getting into the poetry club. Fucking Wentz.
When Ryan looks up, Brendon is watching him intently. His eyes are digging holes in Ryan's and the guy doesn't blink which is really starting to scare him.
“You're pretty - er. Prettier than I thought you would be.” Brendon looks away and starts fidgeting with his pencils again. Ryan lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. “I mean. You write wonderfully, and I thought you would be like this obese, acne covered outcast.”
“I'm an outcast though. And you should have seen me three years ago. Pro Activ would have died to use me for a before-after advert.” Brendon clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “You really like what I write?”
“I do. Oh my god, yes. It's like you are able to put words on my thoughts. Like, your characters, they live things I can relate to.” Ryan's stomach tightens. Whatever that boy went through, Ryan really feels for him if he can relate to his characters because they are based on himself, even if he keeps saying they aren't. Ryan realizes it must have shown on his face because Brendon bites his lip and frowns. “I don't - my parents didn't do anything wrong. I mean, I can relate to their thoughts. I know what it feels like to don't belong anywhere. You know?”
“Yes,” Ryan says softly, not looking up.
*
“Oh my god, can you stop hogging the desk? I'm never going to be able to correct all these fucking things if you don't leave enough room for ever just my pens!” Ryan snaps after Brendon pushed some of his things on Ryan's side of the desk.
It's been the same thing every day for the last month. Brendon's book slightly crosses Ryan's imaginary border and Ryan loses it and annoys Brendon until one of them has to leave for a class.
“I'm so not hogging it, Ryan Ross. I haven't crossed the line so stop fucking complaining and let me do my work. You're not the only busy one around here.”
“Oh, really? You have things to do? I thought your job around here was to bug the fuck out of us and make sure there are no moments of silence, ever.”
Brendon kicks him under the desk. “Leave me alone, for god's sake. I'm not in a good mood, okay?”
Ryan knows he should leave it at it, but he's not in a better mood. “You don't have to let it out on me. Oh. My. God. I told you to stop fucking hogging the desk! This is totally not funny anymore. I need room to work and all you're doing is doodling in this notebook and fucking kicking me under the desk!”
“Fuck off, I'm out.” Brendon roughly shuts his notebook and gets up. “I don't have to deal with your fucking PMS. Even Greta's easier to deal with.” He's halfway through the cramped room when he turns around and glares at Ryan. “By the way, the kick was intentional.” He slams the door behind him and Ryan jumps.
“That was really fucking mean, Ross,” Jon says from behind a tall dieffenbachia (Ryan’s learned all the names now. By accident, of course.) “He's never in a bad mood, and the only time he is you push him until he's about to explode.” Jon gets out of his spot behind the plant and sits on Greta's desk. “You must be a complete tease in bed, no? Don't answer, dude.” Ryan opens his mouth to speak but Jon waves him off. “No I'm not done. Give him a break. Maybe you enjoy doing that but in society, normal people don't make their friends angry when they are obviously in a bad mood. I'm telling you this because I know he won't. He never says what bothers him. So, I'm asking you Ryan, to behave.”
Ryan sighs and goes back to his essay, not in the mood for correcting anymore. He'll never admit it but he has a hard time concentrating on his work. He got used to Brendon's constant fidgeting, to his feet tapping a rhythm on the floor, to his fingers drumming against the desk, to his kicks under the table; he is so used to be distracted by Brendon that to work in complete silence is destabilizing.
Two hours later, he has three sentences written. He's about to jump out of the window. Even if they are on the first floor. He hears the door softly opening then closing again. It must be Bill or Greta, even though they are supposed to be in class right now. Same for Jon. One of them must have forgotten something.
That someone puts a Capri Sun pouch in front of him, still not saying a thing. Ryan looks up and sees Brendon. The younger boy is biting the yellow straw of his own juice, looking down at Ryan as if almost afraid of him. He presses the pouch, takes one last sip, coughs a little and throws the empty juice in a garbage can.
“Get up,” he says in a tone that offers no argumentation. Ryan gets to his feet, and he's not even fully standing up that Brendon wraps his arms around his neck. He brings the taller boy close to him and squeezes him. “You know, sometimes people just need hugs. We need hugs, Ryan.”
Ryan freezes for a moment. Not only isn't he not used to be hugged, but he is being hugged by Brendon, and it's Brendon.
“Hug me back, please. I need a hug,” Brendon pleads in his ear, squeezing him again. Slowly, Ryan wraps his arms around Brendon's waist and squeezes.
It's like a wave crashing over him. He feels things; scary ones, dangerous ones, all of them taking over him. He leans into Brendon and hides his face in the boy's neck. His hands are fisting Brendon's shirt and pulling him close, closer, always closer, more and more until it feels like they are as one. Brendon's responding to Ryan in perfect synchronization, mirroring his needing actions.
Ryan can count on his hands the times he's been hugged. Not casual hugs; real, comforting, almost desperate hugs. Three of them belong to his mother; they are faint memories and he can't really remember them, he knows they happened but he doesn't remember how they felt. Five to his previous lovers, and then two from Spencer.
He clings to Brendon, feeling warm and safe in the smaller boy's arms. If tears are escaping his eyes, he doesn't know on what to blame them.
“Ryan? Are you okay?” Brendon whispers in his ear, not breaking their embrace. Ryan's only answer is to squeeze Brendon even tighter than before. He's sure they will both have bruises. “Ry. Seriously, you're scaring me. What's wrong?” Ryan doesn't know how he managed to choke out 'nothing', all he knows is that Brendon didn't believe him and that suddenly he is rubbing his back, stroking his hair and cooing in his ear. If Ryan's crying freely, openly now, he doesn't know what excuse to give to explain it.
It takes a while but eventually, Ryan stops crying and his pride comes back from where it was hiding. “You can let go of me, Bren, I'm fine.”
“I'm letting go but there's no way you are fine.” The dark haired boy slowly unfolds himself from around Ryan's neck and backs up, his chocolate orbs meeting Ryan's honey ones. “Talk to me Ry. I'm scared.”
“I needed a hug more than I thought I did.”
Ryan is out of the door before Brendon can react. He hides in his dorm room for the rest of the day, skipping dinner. He hides behind a book when Spencer comes in, frowning and inquisitive.
Ryan doesn't know how it happened but he's hugging Spencer, clinging to him and crying again. The great thing about Spencer is that he knows the answers to everything. He doesn't need to ask what's wrong. He knows it and knows he can't do anything about it, so he hugs back until his arms hurt.
“We need to hug more often. I need more hugs Spencer.”
“There are a lot of things you need more of Ry, but we'll begin with hugs,” Spencer mutters from Ryan's neck and squeezes Ryan again.
*
“He said you were hot?” Spencer asks him over a steaming cup of coffee.
“Yes. I asked how I looked with Bill's hat, and he said I looked hot. He sounded really honest. It freaks me out. Did I tell you he likes my writing?”
“Something like fifty times, yes. Have you ever met someone who doesn't like what you write?”
“My father,” Ryan says and stares at the melting whipped cream on his coffee.
“Ryan,” Spencer snaps. “Shut the fuck up if you're to bring him in, or else no hugs for a week. Don't pretend you're not addicted to them now. We were discussing your new crush. So, he's good-looking, he's got a nice ass, entrancing eyes, he's funny and he likes your writing. He fights for the respect of the environment, he loves Disney and he told you after five minutes of knowing him that you were pretty. He can deal with your insane mood swings and when he hugged you for the first time, you cried, yet he didn't run away screaming. Remind me why you haven’t already married him?” Spencer chuckles as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“Spence. Shut up.”
“Ah ah!” Ryan jumps at the sudden yell and Spencer chokes on his coffee. “Someone I know!” Jon comes out of nowhere and bends to hug Ryan. His scruffy cheek rubs painfully against Ryan's cheek and he pushes him away with a laugh.
“Hey Jon. You just nearly killed my best friend,” Ryan deadpans, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Oh hey sorry dude. Hey, I recognize you too! You're the 'two lattes with whipped cream' guy. Every Tuesday at two. I'm Jon.”
Spencer looks up and it's Ryan's turn to almost choke. He is not only looking at Jon, he's staring at him like he's the eighth wonder of the world.
“I'm Spencer.”
“Hey Spencer. Oh, here's Bren! Hey Brendon, look who's here!” Jon waves widely and seconds later Brendon is standing by his side with a large grin.
“Hey Ryan! How're you? We didn't see you yesterday! I was all lonely at our desk!”
Spencer looks at Ryan with a shit-eating grin and mouths 'our'. Ryan rolls his eyes and kicks him under the table.
Brendon looks at Spencer and his grin grows larger. “Hey! I know you! You're that guy studying drums! I totally almost fell in your drums that day at band rehearsal, last semester! Remember me?”
“Bren, who gave you Red Bull?” Jon says sternly.
“Greta. I have to go deal with the principal about recycling bins.” He flails his hand and grins. “You remember me?” He asks Spencer again.
“Brendon Urie, right? Yeah, you're pretty famous.”
“He is?” Ryan asks and frowns, earning a slap behind the head from Brendon.
“In the music degrees realm he is. The parallel universe, the other side of the mirror, where they live off ramen noodles and Red Bull,” Jon says, waving his hands in a way that he probably intends to be mystical. To Ryan, he just looks spastic. “In the real world, though, he's pretty much an outcast.”
Brendon glares at Jon. “That's because they never heard me play or sing. You didn't answer me, Ross. Where the hell were you?”
“I was caught up in writing.” Ryan says to his half-empty mug.
“Dude, I had brought my Disney CDs, we were supposed to listen to them. You better be there tomorrow,” he says with a glare. “Besides, Greta wants you to take part of the next -” He bends closer to Ryan and looks swiftly around him, “- rescue mission. She needs to explain how it'll work and stuff.”
He straightens up and smiles brightly. “I'm off, guys. It was nice meeting you Spencer. Jon, you buy dinner today, don't forget. Ryan, I was really happy to see you.”
He bends down and hugs Ryan tightly. “I missed my hug buddy yesterday.”
His eyes linger on Ryan's face before he runs away.
“Wow,” Spencer breathes out. “That was something. Ry? Does he come with Ritalin? I never thought you could have a crush on someone that energetic. You like them quiet and forlorn usually.”
“You have a crush on Bden?” Jon pulls a chair and sits down with them.
“No! I don't! Spencer's only saying that to bother me.”
“'Oh Spence, he's so gorgeous! He's funny, and he's nice! He has an awesome laugh and when he smiles it lights the whole room! I wish I could -'” Spencer says in what is probably supposed to be Ryan's voice.
“Shut the fuck up Spencer Smith,” Ryan mutters angrily. “And I don't sound like that.”
“'Oh Spencer, when he hugs me I feel like nothing can harm me, I feel like he's protecting me. I seriously think I love him,'” Spencer continues in his Ryan's impersonation.
“Stop it,” Ryan snaps and puts his head on the table. He hears them both laughing and he groans. Spencer will never let him live this down.
*
“Ryan!” Brendon shouts as Ryan enters the room. He is completely overwhelmed by all that's going on in the small room. Music is blasting through the speakers of an ancient stereo, Bill's dancing with Greta, making her twirl around and she looks like a flower with her dress puffing and dancing around her. Jon and Spencer are discussing around a miniature palm tree, Spencer's smile bigger than Ryan's ever seen it. Brendon is standing up on a desk and was apparently singing along before Ryan entered. “Ryan! Join us and have fun! We're throwing a party!”
“Fuck yeah!” A tall guy appears out of nowhere and high fives Brendon before joining Bill and Greta. He's a little scary, in Ryan's opinion, with his neon clothes and the slightly creepy look in his eyes.
“Ryan Ross, meet Gabe!” Jon says over the music. “Gabe is William's boyfriend and Brendon's ex! He's a lot scarier than he looks!” Jon's statement is enhanced by Gabe grabbing Bill and pressing himself against his back, his hips rocking hard into his ass and his hands stroking his chest. As if it wasn't enough, he starts singing along, “Tight hip huggers, shake a little something, I need that, huh, to get me off, sweat'n 'til my clothes come off.” William leans back and moans.
Someone needs to explain to Ryan when he left college to go to a nightclub because he seriously doesn't remember.
“I bet you miss my ass,” Brendon says from his place on the desk. “Bill's pretty sexy but he's got nothing to compete with my apple bottom.”
“Yeah, I have to admit that you're the tightest I ever had.” Gabe wiggles his eyebrows at Brendon before placing his lips on Bill's neck.
The scene is surreal. Ryan stands there, watching these two unlikely ex-lovers discussing their sexual life like it's normal to do that in public.
Brendon laughs loudly and jumps off the desk, landing gracefully when Ryan would probably have slumped to the floor and broke his ankle. Next to Gabe, he looks so minuscule Ryan can't imagine the two of them - yeah. He can't.
“What are we celebrating?” Ryan asks after a while. “And why are you here Spence?”
“Jon invited me.” Spencer and Jon exchange a knowing smile.
“We're celebrating because the cafeteria agreed to use reusable dishes. I've been fighting for this for the last two years. I couldn't be happier! Tomorrow, I'm starting my new battle! The trees they want to cut in the yard. Who's willing to get chained to one of them with me?” Greta shouts happily and Gabe makes her twirl. Her blue and yellow dress follows her moves, her hair sending waves of flowery scents in the air.
Ryan is actually worried she'll do it for real, and since he apparently can't say no to her, he'll definitely end up chained to a tree. Awesome.
“Ryan! Dance with me!” Brendon grabs his waist and pulls him so that their bodies crash together.
Ryan gasps, probably louder than he thought he would because Spencer bursts out laughing.
“C'mon, move a little! I won't bite you if you do something like this -” Brendon puts one hand on the small of Ryan's back, one on his shoulder and moves his hips from side to side.
“Or this.” He grinds his hips into Ryan's and the taller boy gasps again, his eyes closing.
Ryan feels Brendon's hand sliding up from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, where it massages softly. “You are so tense. You need to relax,” Brendon breathes in his ear, making Ryan shiver.
The music stops and then Brendon is gone. Ryan bites his lip to hold back the frustrated moan that threatened to escape his lips at the sudden lack of warmth and Brendon. He opens his eyes and sees Brendon by the stereo, fumbling in his bag.
“There you are!” He victoriously takes a CD out of his bag and puts it in the stereo. He pushes a few buttons before turning to Jon.
“Walker! When I tell you, can you press play?” He winks as he passes in front of Ryan and climbs back on the desk before asking Ryan to join him and extending his arm out to help him up.
“Hell no. I'm not climbing on that thing. I'll fall and break my neck for sure.”
“You give me no other choice. This is going to be painfully cliché, I apologize, but you're a stubborn guy Ross.”
Brendon straightens his shoulders, pulls his pants up and crouches down on the desk. He extends his hand towards Ryan, a smirk on his face. “Do you trust me?”
“What?” Brendon isn't really quoting Aladdin, is he?
“Wow, the right line, you know your classics! Now is the time for you to start the record, Jon.” He waits for the music to start then extends his hand again. “Do you trust me?” Brendon's grin could compete with the Cheshire Cat's.
Ryan smiles slyly and takes Brendon's hand. “Yes.”
The smaller boy helps him on the desk and wraps an arm around his thin waist. He digs his fingers in Ryan's skin, making it tingle nicely. “You're Jasmine,” Brendon quickly says before singing along.
Ryan can't take his eyes off Brendon. He never heard anyone singing like that. He knows he's staring at him wide-eyed but he can't help it. Ryan misses his cue and mumbles the few lyrics he has left before it's Brendon's turn again. His eyes are locked with Brendon's and everything around them seems frozen in time.
He always hated clichéd situations, all the butterflies-in-stomach, fireworks, electricity and all the stuff from Harlequin novels. But he can't deny that the way his eyes are locked with Brendon's creates reactions that are not normal. The sweating hands, the quick heartbeats, the way it's hard to breathe, how he got closer to Brendon's warm body without noticing it, how his legs are about to give out and how his brain shut down to only hear Brendon's voice; all these are not normal things. Ryan is not bothering anymore to sing along, he's just staring at Brendon without moving. He can't move. Their faces are so close their noses are almost touching. Brendon's breath smells of coffee and a brand of candy Ryan can't recognize.
Twizzlers, Brendon smells of coffee and Twizzlers. The song apparently ended because suddenly Gabe is whistling at them. Ryan would blush if only Brendon would stop looking at him this way. Each time one of them breathes in, their chests touch. That's too much contact for Ryan, with Brendon's hands on his back and their thighs pressed together. Something bad will happen soon if they don't move.
“Hey could you be any louder? Some of us are trying to work around here!”
Ryan turns his head to the door and sees Pete, an angry look adorning his face. William and Greta immediately go see him to probably sweet talk him to let them celebrate without complaining. Ryan looks at them as they do it, scared to look back at Brendon. He feels the boy's forehead pressing against his temple as a warm sigh brushes his scorching cheek.
“You're so oblivious.”
Brendon jumps off the desk and leaves the room. Everyone watches him go then sets their gaze on Ryan, trying to understand something Ryan doesn't understand himself.
*
“Ryan?” Ryan looks up from his hands and sees Brendon running towards him.
Well, he sees a dark silhouette running towards him but it can only be Brendon, because who would be wandering near the Science department at two in the morning?
“You're ready?” He pants slightly as he reaches Ryan, and no, Ryan doesn't find it extremely sexy, shut up.
“Yeah. I guess. What if we get caught?”
“I'll invent some bullshit while you run away. Now let's go before the security guard comes back.” He grabs Ryan's hand and pulls him after him.
The door is miraculously unlocked - “the guard always leaves it open when he goes to get his fourth coffee of the night” - and Brendon makes sure to close it silently behind him.
“Third door on the right. Bill made sure it stayed unlocked,” Brendon whispers, his mouth almost pressed to Ryan's ear. His warm breath tickles the sensitive skin and Ryan shivers.
“Are you okay? Not too nervous? You're shivering.”
“No, I - I'm cold, that's all.”
Brendon lets go of Ryan's hand and wraps his arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer. He rubs Ryan's arm a few times. “Better?”
Better? Better? Ryan can feel his whole body burning. He is two seconds away from spontaneous combustion. He was cold before Brendon touched him, but now he is scorching. He could fry eggs on his cheeks. His whole body screams at him to push Brendon against the closest wall and - and fuck him, for heaven's sake.
“Yeah, thank you,” he hears himself saying though he doesn't know how a coherent sentence formed in his brain.
“Anytime.”
Brendon still has his arm around Ryan's shoulder and doesn't seem to want to take it away. His hip bumps against Ryan's as they walk, oh god. This is too much, he won't be responsible for his actions in a few seconds, he will grab Brendon and rape him if he has too, he's never been so turned on by such a light touch in his entire life, he'll -
“We're there. Let's do it quickly, we have only five minutes left. C'mon, get in.”
Brendon pushes him softly then gets in, closing the door quietly.
“Over there, put that on the cages.” He hands Ryan a pile of black cloths. “Don't hit any furniture or we're caught.”
Ryan walks to the wall Brendon pointed him and sees from the moonlight five small lined up cages. He puts the clothes on them then feels Brendon breath against his neck.
“Ready?” he breathes and Ryan nods stiffly, tensing as he feels the warmth radiating from Brendon's body.
“Alright, grab two, I'll take the three others. We have to get them to our room before that guard comes back. We have ten minutes.”
They almost run into a guard as they make their ways inside the extra-curricular building. Two more minutes and they are putting the cages down on Bill's desk, sighing in relief.
“That was fucking close,” Ryan gasps, still shaking from nerves.
“Yeah, I was sure we were dead. You did a good job Ry.” Brendon's smiling in the moonlight and Ryan feels warm inside.
“You too. Are we done? Can we go sleep?” To support his statement, Ryan yawns loudly.
Brendon shrugs. “Do you have a class tomorrow morning?”
“Not before three. Why?” Ryan's mind running at two hundred miles. Brendon didn't mean - he doesn't want them to - it can't be.
“Want a coffee? Or a hot chocolate? I have the key for the student café. I thought we could go there, you know, to celebrate this perfect rescue mission.” Brendon is fidgeting with the keys, pushing dust balls with the tip of his red sneakers, looking three thousands kinds of cute.
“Are you asking me out?” Ryan's throat is tight and dry.
“Can I?” Brendon's voice is barely audible over the constant clicking of his keys.
“Yes.”
Ryan can't hear his own answer over his heartbeats. Mixed with Brendon's keys clicking, it sounds like an infernal cog machine. He is hot and cold, sweaty and shivering, nervous and utterly happy.
Brendon clears his throat and straightens his shoulders that he held slumped for the past minutes. “Let's go!”
He waits for Ryan next to the door and when they are both outside with the door locked, he grabs Ryan's hand and squeezes it. They walk silently to the student café; not out of things to say, but afraid to get caught. Brendon unlocks the kitchen's door and pulls Ryan in. He locks it back behind them and puts the lights on.
“Are you sure we won't get caught?” Ryan asks nervously as he sits on a counter.
“No danger. They never go this far in this hallway. So, what can I serve you Mr. Ross?” he says as he takes two mugs out of a cupboard.
“A hot chocolate, please. I want to be able to sleep.” Very unlikely to happen, even without caffeine.
“Choose one of these while I warm the milk,” Brendon says, opening another cupboard. “You can put whatever you want in it.”
Ryan jumps off the counter and goes to the cupboard. Inside there are rows and rows of syrups to put in beverages.
“Can I get, like, mint? Oh, no cinnamon. Shit, I love hazelnuts too. Vanilla! Erm.”
Decisions. He sucks at them.
He tenses as he feels arms wrapping around his waist. Brendon rests his chin on his shoulder.
“I could put them all in but it'll be disgusting.”
His breath tickles Ryan's neck and he leans back into Brendon without even realizing. Brendon's response is to tighten his grip on the skinny boy's waist.
“Can you make me one of those Christmas special?” He puts his arms over Brendon's and sighs as the younger boy begins stroking his stomach through his shirt.
“Which one? Eggnog, candy cane, mint chocolate, gingerbread?”
“Eggnog,” Ryan can only whisper now, he's too entranced by Brendon's soft strokes and warm body against his back.
“Alright!”
As suddenly as he came, Brendon's no longer holding him close but at the other side of the room, preparing their drinks. Ryan staggers a little and shakes at the sudden lack of comforting warmth.
“Do you want cookies? You can go and pick some. Just, like, only take two or three otherwise they'll notice,” Brendon calls from the other side of the kitchen. “Can you get me one chocolate chips one? Oh, no, wait. M&Ms one, please.”
Ryan opens a few cupboards before finding the cookies. He grabs two for Brendon and then one oatmeal one for himself. “Where are you?” he then calls out.
“I'm coming, hold on. Stay where you are. Do you want whipped cream and cinnamon powder on it?”
“Yes please.”
Ryan pulls himself up to sit on the counter. Not long after, Brendon appears, holding two steaming cups with a mountain of whipped cream on both. One of them as grated chocolate on it, too. Brendon gives him that one, puts his own down and jumps on the counter next to Ryan. He thanks him, trying to hide the goofy grin that's threatening to betray his light head.
“No problem.”
Brendon smiles over his cup before taking a sip. Whipped cream gets on his nose and gives him an adorable, five-year-old look.
“You have whipped cream on your nose.” Ryan points it slightly and Brendon smiles.
“Get if off, then.” Brendon's voice is strange, sort of strangled and, husky?
Ryan doesn't think before leaning in. He doesn't think before pressing his dry lips to Brendon's nose. He doesn't think when his tongue twirls out of his mouth to lick the cream off Brendon's nose. He only starts to think when he hears Brendon gasping.
“Holy shit. That wasn't planned. I'm so sorry.” Ryan puts his hands over his mouth and stares in horror at Brendon.
“Don't apologize. I wasn't clear enough. I should have - dude. You kissed my nose. You licked my nose. Your first instinct was to lick my nose, not use a paper towel. I'm two seconds away from kissing you.”
Ryan doesn't move. He sees Brendon smirking, leaning in and then he only sees a blur of pale skin and black-rimmed glasses. Brendon's lips touch his softly and he sighs, he leans in. He kisses back, his hands finding their way on Brendon's shoulders, holding him firmly in place so he won't move.
*
When Spencer finds them in the morning, the look on his face could fool anyone into thinking it's Christmas. Ryan is lying on his stomach, his head resting on Brendon's chest, his hand balled in his shirt – because yes, they are fully clothed, thank you very much – and his leg wrapped over his thighs. Brendon is clinging to him, one of his hands still in Ryan's hair from when it lulled him to sleep by stroking soft circles into his scalp.
*
Ryan looks up every time he hears the door opening. He then groans in frustration and goes back to glaring at his essay, or more what is supposed to be his essay but is at the moment a blank sheet of paper.
“Waiting for someone?” Jon asks from somewhere in the middle of their own miniature forest.
For the past two weeks, they have been very subtle. They made sure to act as if nothing had change until they were more confident in their relationship and were ready to make it public. Today is that day, or so Brendon decided.
“His class ends in ten minutes. He'll run to get here. You'll see him soon.” Ryan glares in the direction of Jon. He is more and more convinced that Jon has some kind of super perceptive powers or something.
The door opens once again and Ryan recoils in his chair as he sees Gabe.
“The one I was looking for! So you're Brendon's new toy? I'm here to give you tricks to make him go straight to cloud nine,” he says as he pulls a chair to sit in front of Ryan.
Heaven help him. How come everyone knows, suddenly?
When Greta enters the room, Ryan makes a mental note to thank god later.
“Hi guys. Gabe, William's buying lunch so no, you can't have half of mine, no I won't have sex with you and leave the lovebird alone. You're the only one who wants to hear about your sex life.”
Seriously, this isn't fair.
“Even if Spencer didn't tell us how he found the two of you intertwined every morning in two weeks, we would know because Brendon chanted it all morning long,” Jon says. “But it wasn't hard to guess you two were about to become a thing. You were constantly stripping him with your eyes.”
Ryan is getting really sick of everyone knowing everything. The door opens and an out of breath Brendon comes in. His eyes scan the room and when they meet Ryan's, he smiles widely and quickly crosses the room to their desk. Ryan can't stop the smile playing on his lips as Brendon bends down to kiss his forehead in a loud, wet kiss. He looks around him for a chair, shrugs and sits on Ryan's lap, squirming and tugging at him until he's curled up against his chest with Ryan's arms wrapped around him and why was Ryan mad again?
“Hi,” he whispers and pecks at Ryan's temple.
“Hey,” Ryan whispers back, leaning his head against Brendon's. “I missed you.”
“You're such a girl, Ross,” Brendon snickers before kissing Ryan's cheek.
“Woah shit I missed something, didn't I?” Ryan hears William shouting. He looks up and sees him entering the room, balancing bags in his arms. He is staring at them with wide eyes and a grin on his face. “It's about time guys.”
He drops the bag on his desk and makes his way to Gabe. He plants a kiss on the top of his head and ruffles his hair.
Ryan smiles at him and then closes his eyes because – oh shit – Brendon's mouthing at his jaw and – oh fuck – it feels great. He bites down hard on his lips to hold back a moan that is threatening to escape from his mouth and he feels Brendon smiling against his skin.
“Ry,” he hears him breathe in his ear. “Ry, come back to us. You have to go to class.”
Ryan shakes his head and keeps his eyes closed, leaning his head in Brendon's direction in hopes he will kiss him again. He opens his eyes when he doesn't and Brendon is looking at him with a serious frown.
“Ry, seriously. You know you can't skip Philosophy.”
Brendon gets off him and helps him up. He packs his things and hands him his bag with a small smile.
“Who's the girl now, Urie?” Ryan jokes half-heartedly and Brendon pouts. “I don't want to go.”
“I know. But you'll see me soon enough, trust me. Go now.”
Brendon kisses him one last time and Ryan hears everyone saying their goodbyes as he leaves the room.
*
He has to stay awake. He cannot sleep. It would mean instant failure if he slept. His teacher would never forgive him, so he has to stay awake. No matter how boring Diogenes' tribal life might be, he has to stay awake. He shifts in his chair and rests his heavy head on his hand. He won't make it. He can feel his eyelids closing and he keeps getting these numb flashes in his whole body that come when you're about to fall asleep.
He had closed his eyes for just a few seconds – only to rest them, nothing else, he didn't at all fell asleep for almost half an hour – when the classroom door shuts loudly and makes his heart stop. He raises his head and a large grin breaks on his face.
“Sorry!” Brendon says as he walks up all the way to the teacher's desk, a dangerously balanced pile of neon green sheets in his arms. He groans in relief as he drops them on the desk and he twists his wrists a few times before looking at the classroom with a large smile.
“Hey! So, I'm here to talk to you about the next activities organized by the nature club, it won't be long.” His eyes scan the room and his smile gets bigger when he meets Ryan's. “Ross, can you come and help me pass these sheets around?”
Walking up the aisle is harder than it seems with sleep-numbed limbs. He slightly trips over his feet as he reaches the front and Brendon chuckles softly.
“You okay?” he asks him and when Ryan nods, Brendon pushes a pile of sheets in his arms. “Thank you,” he says with a smile and presses his hand to his forearm for a brief second.
Ryan starts passing the leaflets around the classroom while Brendon babbles about some things he knows he should remember since Greta talked non-stop about them for the past month. He's not fully awake, that's why he's slow and retarded.
“- and, of course, the yearly camping trip.”
“The what?” Ryan is suddenly very awake.
“Don’t you ever listen to Greta? She told you three times last week that we're all going camping during Spring break. It's a tradition.”
No. He is not going to spend not even an hour in the forest. This is not happening. Never.
“We'll discuss this later, Ry,” Brendon says in a sigh before pointedly changing the subject.
When they meet after Ryan's class, Brendon immediately starts praising the trip, very obviously trying to sell it to Ryan.
“It's going to be great! We're going to roast marshmallows and sing around campfires and sleep in tents!”
“And get eaten alive by mosquitoes and being awakened at the crack of dawn by birds and not shower for a whole week.”
“Marshmallows, Ryan. Think about them.”
Ryan stops walking to glare more efficiently at Brendon, who only grins innocently.
*
Ryan waves his hand erratically in front of his face as a cloud of flies gets in his way. The only light is radiating from the large fire Jon and Gabe made hours ago and happily fueled all evening long. Ryan can only see the silhouette of people against the bright orange of the fire. The smell of smoke is strong but he can't really smell it over the three layers of bug spray he showered himself in.
Greta nearly threw him in the river, yelling that this spray was full of pesticides and agents that destroy the ozone layer. Five hours later, when the deer flies showed up, she was the first in line to borrow it.
That's what he hates about camping. It takes ten minutes to go the bathroom and he risked his life five hundred times on the way and back. He doesn't see what's so fun in that, honestly. Even after two days in the middle of the forest, he still doesn't find it amusing or interesting. All he wants to do is go back to college and spend a night on his bed. That would really be heaven.
Ryan yawns loudly as he approaches the circle of people sitting around the fire, roasting marshmallows and chattering happily. Gabe made them do two hundred different activities that day, from kayaking to hebertism. His whole body is sore and he could seriously sleep for three days.
He sits down next to Brendon and only then does he notice the guitar in his hands. He's softly plucking the strings, humming notes under his breath; very obviously searching for a song to play. Ryan rests his head on Brendon's shoulder and yawns again. He hears Brendon giving the guitar to someone else before William's voice raises over the discussions, singing a song Ryan never heard before.
“Come with me,” Brendon whispers before getting up and taking Ryan's hand in his.
Ryan forces his tired body up and follows after Brendon, getting worried when he enters the woods. He looks like he knows where he's headed and that's the only thing that's keeping Ryan from running in the opposite direction – this, and the fact that he would definitely get lost on his way back.
After a few minutes of walking (or tripping over everything in Ryan's case), they emerge in a clearing and Ryan rolls his eyes at how cliché it is.
“Don't roll your eyes, Ross. This is my attempt at being romantic and making you like camping all at the same time,” Brendon snaps.
He lets go of Ryan's hand and lies down on the ground, motioning to Ryan to join him. He gets down on the ground and feels Brendon lacing their fingers once again.
“Look at this,” Brendon whispers. “You don't see skies like this everywhere. Don't tell me it's not worth getting devoured by bugs and shitting behind a tree.”
Ryan hums and shrugs, feeling his eyelids getting heavier. He will regret sleeping there but right now, he couldn't care less. He'll even ignore his fear of waking up with spiders crawling all over him. And he doesn't care if the next day Greta wants them to go hiking to see rare specimens of plants. Her itinerary, the last time Ryan checked the map, was five miles long.
He doesn't care because Brendon scooted closer to him to use his chest as a pillow, and he balled his shirt in his fist, and he's making these little snoring noises and Ryan would never admit it, but he doesn't regret coming.
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Date: 2009-09-12 10:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 08:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 08:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 11:27 pm (UTC)I absolutely loved this. It was so sweet and I loved how it flowed. I don't often get to read pretty AU's like this.
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Date: 2009-09-13 08:16 pm (UTC)I'm really glad you loved it!
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Date: 2009-09-13 12:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 08:16 pm (UTC)Thanks though, I'm so happy that you think this deserves to be continued.
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Date: 2009-09-13 12:23 am (UTC)I was a member of the bio club, we got to take care of the lizards, snakes and plant trees! So having a fic like this is a major woop!
it was really well written, and gosh the camping thing was adorable, even eco warrior greta was like, "gimme the spray bitches!"
as per, an awesome adorable fic
harly x
p.s// alliteration, im a slave to it >
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Date: 2009-09-13 08:19 pm (UTC)Eco warrio Greta is my personal favorite in this...
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Date: 2009-09-13 08:22 pm (UTC)To know that you'll check my other writings is the best thing you could ever tell me, seriously. :D
<3
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Date: 2009-09-13 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 08:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 01:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 08:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 08:26 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked it!
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Date: 2009-09-13 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 08:27 pm (UTC)I don't think I'll continue it, I'm currently working on a huge ass AU that will be epic so all my attention goes to this one. But I'm honored to know that you think this deserves a sequel <3
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Date: 2009-09-13 04:44 am (UTC)[but, just because we were all thinking it, you TOTALLY should have included tent!sex. hahaha.]
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Date: 2009-09-13 08:28 pm (UTC)Oh man, I almost did.
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Date: 2009-09-13 08:30 pm (UTC)I'm so happy that it made you smile like this!
Man, Aladdin pwns everything, so if you mix it with that Urie kid, forget it, I'm so, so far gone. xD
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Date: 2009-09-13 12:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 08:30 pm (UTC)That scene was a little indulgence I allowed myself ^-^
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Date: 2009-09-13 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-13 06:04 pm (UTC)And I love how they're such a faily eco-friendly bunch like how they never found eco-friendly cleaners so they just didn't clean the floors hahaha. And Greta being the first in line to use the bug spray >_<
Also, Ryan Ross + Camping = Me LMFAO
This was great! Hope you're feeling better; Vit C and Zinc *hugs*
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Date: 2009-09-13 08:34 pm (UTC)Greta is my favorite character in this xD
YES \o/ Ever since I read about how he almost fell off a cliff and had to build a wall to prevent a second fall, I had to include his failness at camping.
I'm not :( but I'm on a steady diet of orange juice, Vit C tablets and flu syrup. I'll survive :P
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Date: 2009-09-13 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 12:15 am (UTC)I.Ideally.would have liked them. To have sex
but this was soooooo adorable that I forgive you ;D
\0/
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Date: 2009-09-14 02:49 pm (UTC)You're not the only one who would have wanted sex. I don't even know why I didn't put any in... xD
<3
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Date: 2009-11-12 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-13 08:26 pm (UTC)I wouldn't have mind a long comments, I love them!
<3
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Date: 2011-01-18 01:25 am (UTC)