Team Jon: A Chain Is No Stronger Than Its Weakest Link (cont'd)

part 1

Ryan tried his best to avoid Brendon over the next few days, eating at different times, avoiding the living room when he was there. There wasn’t really much to do at Spencer’s house besides watching television, reading, or more planning for the job. Ryan spent most of his time struggling through Foucault’s Pendulum and trying to distract himself from thinking of the kiss.
 
Nearly a week after Brendon’s arrival, and three days after the official meeting to explain the plan to him, an unexpected visitor showed up.
 
They were all in the living room, Ryan having unsuccessfully avoided Brendon, and just resigned himself to his favorite armchair with his book. Brendon and Jon were arguing about video games and Ryan had to stop himself from butting in to explain how video games were designed.
 
Biting his lip, he stuck his nose back to the book, although all the words looked like nothing more than strange blurs before his eyes. He could kill Spencer for ever buying him that book.
 
Spencer was sitting next to Jon, reading a book and successfully ignoring the conversation. He glanced up, though, as the buzzer from the drive sounded, signaling a car pulling up to the gate.
 
Frowning slightly, Spencer pulled himself off the couch and went to the main entrance way to look at the mounted camera screen and check the intercom.
 
Ryan, Brendon, and Jon remained in the living room, continuing their trivial pursuits and didn’t notice Spencer’s absence until he returned five minutes later, another person in tow. Ryan’s book dropped immediately into his lap as he glanced up and saw the man accompanying Spencer.
 
Spencer was quiet, his eyes meeting Ryan’s across the room to answer his silent question.
 
Jon broke off in the middle of arguing that touring was a better way to get a high score for Guitar Hero when he caught sight of Spencer. Brendon just frowned and turned around, his eyes falling on the tall man standing next to Spencer.
 
The man was tall with dark hair. He had a large gold chain hanging around his neck and his shoes were all sorts of colors. The bright purple hoodie he was wearing was shocking compared to all the muted colors of Spencer’s living room.
 
Jon was the first to speak, smiling nicely as he rose from the couch and shook the man’s hand.
 
“Gabe, nice to see you again.”
 
Gabe eyed Jon, but shook his hand and glanced around, noticing Brendon in the chair. He paused on him for a minute.
 
“Gabe,” Ryan said from his chair, but didn’t get up. “What are you doing here?”
 
Gabe smirked, his eyes still on Brendon. “I just stopped by to see how things were going. It’s less than two weeks away now, isn’t it?”
 
Spencer nodded, heading over to the drink cart and getting Gabe a drink that Brendon didn’t even hear him ask for or tell Spencer what kind.
 
“A week and a half, and everything is fine.” Spencer handed Gabe the glass of amber liquid. His eyes were cool as he watched Gabe.
 
Gabe watched him for a minute before turning to Brendon. “I don’t think we’ve met,” he said slowly. “You’re new?”
 
Brendon stood quickly. “Yeah. I’m Brendon.”
 
Gabe’s smirk didn’t falter. “I’m Gabe, leader of the Cobras.”
 
Brendon just nodded. He knew offering any more information would be a mistake, especially with the way Spencer and Ryan were shooting each other silent messages.
 
Gabe’s eyes lingered on him for a second before turning back to Spencer. “So you got my message?”
 
“You’ll have it in two weeks,” Spencer replied coldly.
 
Gabe nodded, looking to Ryan. “And we won’t have any problems, not like last time?”
 
Ryan didn’t scowl as usual, but glanced at Spencer carefully. “No.”
 
Brendon frowned as he looked at Ryan. Ryan seemed different in Gabe’s present. He didn’t snap at him like he did Spencer.
 
“Good.” Gabe took a sip of his drink and glanced around at them all. “So everything’s going right?”
 
“Yes,” Spencer replied. “Everything is fine.”
 
Gabe nodded, his eyes moving back to Ryan, who didn’t move from his chair and met his eyes slowly.
 
Brendon watched the exchange curiously, wondering at Ryan’s reaction to Gabe. Obviously this was the Gabe that had threatened to kill them. Brendon wondered how he was even allowed inside the house.
 
The moment lasted for a while until Spencer cleared his throat loudly and Gabe looked at him. His eyebrow was raised challengingly and his blue eyes were cold.
 
“Everything is fine,” he repeated. “I think you need to leave.”
 
Gabe paused, his eyes taking one last sweep, lingering on Ryan and Brendon, before draining the last of his drink and setting it on the coffee table.
 
“I’ll be waiting,” he warned as he turned and Spencer followed him to the door.
 
They all stood still, waiting until they heard the front door shut and the alarm click back into place. Ryan let out a breath and sunk into his chair, ignoring the concerned look Jon was giving him. Brendon frowned as he watched Ryan sink into himself, the book lying forgotten on his lap as he blinked and stared out the window at nothing.
 
Spencer returned with a sigh, rubbing his forehead and flopping down on the couch next to Jon, where Jon gave him a comforting hug. Spencer didn’t even smile, and just glanced over at Ryan.
 
“Ry?” he asked quietly and Ryan didn’t stir. “Ry, are you okay? He’ll be gone in two weeks.”
 
Ryan didn’t reply. Brendon watched him curiously, glancing back at Spencer and Jon. Jon whispered something in Spencer’s ear and Spencer nodded.
 
“Yeah. Something like that,” he murmured back, leaning against Jon and pushing his hair back.
 
Jon glanced over at Ryan, who still hadn’t moved. “Hey, Ry, you want take a walk?”
 
Ryan stirred slightly, his head finally turning to Jon.
 
“Yeah,” he said after a minute, standing and barely glancing down as his book fell to a heap on the floor. He wandered out of the living room and Jon paused a second before pressing a kiss to Spencer’s lips and following him.
 
Brendon watched them go silently, then glanced at Spencer. Spencer looked worried as they heard the front door open and shut after Jon and Ryan.
 
Brendon hesitated a second before speaking, unsure if he was allowed to. “What was that?” he asked finally.
 
Spencer glanced at him for a minute. “That was Gabe Saporta.”
 
“No, I mean, with Ryan.”
 
Spencer’s pause was longer this time. “Remember about Gabe’s death threat?”
 
“Yeah,” Brendon agreed slowly.
 
“It’s not exactly for all of us. Well, it is, but it’s more specifically geared towards Ryan.”
 
“Why?”
 
Spencer sighed. “That’s for Ryan to tell you.”
 
Brendon was confused, but Spencer didn’t say any more and he was resolved not to know for the time being.
 
*
 
Jon and Ryan didn’t return until late that evening. They entered through the back door and Ryan didn’t look at anyone before retreating to his room. Jon just muttered something to Spencer but didn’t tell Brendon anything.
 
Brendon frowned at the secrecy and stared after Ryan long after his bedroom door had shut. He didn’t see him after that, and when Brendon went to bed, he could still see the light from under Ryan’s door that meant he was still awake.
 
Brendon changed into his pajamas and switched off his light. Lying in bed and staring at the dark ceiling, he could hear the thin strains of music coming from Ryan’s room beside him. It sounded a little like classical music, but Brendon couldn’t be sure.
 
He stared at the ceiling of his room for a long while after that, watching the line of moonlight glimmer through the slit in the curtains, washing over the ceiling. He watched the shadow of the crystal vase on the dresser cast itself on the wall behind.
 
Brendon usually didn’t have any trouble falling asleep, but he couldn’t seem to as the music stretched in the next room. He could hear muffled crescendos, couldn’t hear the decrescendos at all, and sometimes, it sounded as though the music had stopped, but it would get louder after a minute.
 
Then the music did stop and Brendon strained to hear it through the wall. He lay in his bed, the covers tucked up to his chin as he tried to hear the piano, the oboes, the violins, but he heard nothing.
 
The clock told him it was nearly one in the morning when he looked over, five minutes after the music stopped.
 
Chewing on his lip, a habit he’d picked up as a child, Brendon sighed and turned back to the ceiling, thinking about what Ryan was doing in the next room.
 
He froze as he heard a sound outside his door and then the door opening slowly, the careful shuffle of the wood on the carpet and the tiny creak that came with it. He heard the doorknob turning and the dim light that flooded in from the hallway through the crack.
 
He didn’t move as the light was blocked by a slim body sliding through the door and shutting it quietly behind. Quiet breathing and shuffling feet was all he heard in the darkness as he waited. For all he knew, it could have been Gabe sneaking in to kill him. Something told him that wasn’t it, though.
 
He recognized the sound of the breaths as the person neared – the slow, deliberate inhale and slightly rushed exhale. He’d been listening to it for nearly a week.
 
He turned his head slightly, the covers loosening around his neck as he did, staring through the dark for the shadowed figure now standing feet away from his bed.
 
“Ryan?” he whispered finally, hoping he wouldn’t scare Ryan away.
 
Ryan didn’t speak as Brendon called his name quietly. He sniffed slightly and let out a breath that Brendon could hear in the silence of the room.
 
Struggling up in his bed, Brendon squinted for Ryan. He wore contacts during the day and took them out at night so no one would know. The things in his room always had a fuzzy edge to them at night.
 
Ryan paused, bowing his head slightly as he stared at his bare feet. They were cold but he hated sleeping with socks.
 
“Ryan?” Brendon asked again, rubbing his eyes slightly and pushing his hair flat.
 
Ryan took a step forward and stopped again.
 
“Can I stay here?” he asked after a minute. His voice was so quiet that Brendon had to strain to hear.
 
Brendon stared, his mouth hanging open until he snapped it shut. “Yeah, yeah. Yes.” He scooted over on the queen-sized bed and watched as Ryan crawled forward carefully, slipping his thin legs under the covers and lying down.
 
Brendon paused, but slid back under the covers, gazing at Ryan. He couldn’t see much of him in the dark, just the barest outline of his nose and mouth, his messy hair framing his face as he lay on his back and stared upward.
 
Brendon wanted to ask why, ask why Ryan wanted to stay with him, what had happened with Gabe.
 
Brendon lay down, his head sideways on the pillow as he gazed at Ryan in silence.
 
Ryan was silent until he sighed and his mouth opened to speak.
 
“Stop watching me.”
 
Brendon’s lips pursed together slightly but he didn’t look away.
 
“I can’t help it.”
 
“Why do you do it?”
 
“It’s how I learn. That and asking questions.” Brendon smiled briefly but Ryan didn’t react.
 
“What have you learned about me?”
 
Brendon paused a second, watching Ryan intently as he remained staring upwards.
 
“You like to think. And read. You and Spencer have some kind of awesome relationship that I don’t really know how you got it. You and Jon are kind of like that, but not the same. You want someone, like Spencer has Jon. You don’t like that I’m here because it’s like I’m taking over your place in their lives. But I’ve been watching, and I know that I can’t. And I don’t want to.” He paused. “I’m only here to help you guys get out from under Gabe’s thumb.”
 
Ryan was silent for a moment. “What do you know about Gabe?”
 
“Just what you guys have told me.” He hesitated. “And something happened between you two.”
 
“Not between us,” Ryan mumbled, shifting lower under the covers.
 
Brendon was interested, but didn’t want to push Ryan too hard too fast. The kisses had been fast enough, but now Ryan was actually in his bed.
 
“Between who?” Brendon asked carefully, scooting closer but not touching Ryan.
 
“Bill. His boyfriend.”
 
Brendon paused, confused. “What do you mean?”
 
Ryan sighed, rubbing his face slightly. “I slept with Bill right before the last job.”
 
Brendon’s eyes widened. “Why?”
 
Ryan shrugged. “They were on a break or something. It wasn’t my fault. He came on to me.”
 
“You didn’t have to say yes.”
 
“Fuck, you sound like Spencer,” Ryan huffed, scowling.
 
“No, no,” Brendon said quickly, scooting over, his leg pressed carefully against Ryan’s thigh. “I just mean…”
 
“You just mean that I should have known better, that it’s my fault we screwed up so badly.”
 
“No,” Brendon assured him, raising his hand carefully under the covers to Ryan’s shoulder. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”
 
Ryan ignored him. “We’re supposed to work as a team,” he muttered. “But I always screw it up.”
 
“That can’t be true,” Brendon mumbled, staring at Ryan through the dark. Ryan’s head finally moved and their eyes met.
 
“It’s true.”
 
Brendon shook his head, moving forward until his lips were pressed against Ryan’s shoulder and his hand had slid to rest comfortably over his waist.
 
“I have faith in you. We’ll get the diamond and it’ll all be over.”
 
Ryan sighed and his eyes closed against Brendon’s reassuring touch.
 
“You know the Hope Diamond isn’t even the biggest diamond on record?”
 
“It’s not?” Brendon wasn’t really listening as he concentrated on the feel of Ryan’s skin beneath his fingers.
 
“There’s another, the Star of the East diamond that’s ninety-four carats set on a necklace with these amazing emeralds. I hear it’s beautiful.”
 
Brendon smiled as he heard the lilt in Ryan’s voice that meant he was falling asleep.
 
“You know,” Brendon murmured against Ryan’s shoulder. “I like blue better than green. Always have.”
 
Ryan made a quiet noise. “Stealing makes us crazy.”
 
Brendon just smiled and nuzzled Ryan’s shoulder as he felt his breathing slow, and after hours of staring at the ceiling, Brendon finally fell asleep.
 
*
 
Ryan woke up warm and snuggled against a tee shirt-covered chest. His mouth felt dry and he realized that it was pressed against bare skin. His legs were tangled in another’s and it took him a second to remember where he was and why.
 
Glancing up, he saw Brendon fast asleep beneath him, one arm snugly around his waist, his fingers splayed against his lower back. He could feel Brendon’s breath fluttering over the top of his head. Brendon’s body was warm against his, and if Ryan moved his hand, he could feel the faint outline of muscles below the shirt.
 
Ryan allowed himself to relax for just a minute in Brendon’s grip. Brendon’s skin was soft against his cheek as he rested it in the crook of his neck. He could feel Brendon’s deep breathing under his hand and the warmth tangled up in his body.
 
Finally, Ryan knew he had to end it. Moving slowly, he carefully disengaged his body from Brendon’s sliding his legs out and immediately missing the warmth, but kept moving, sliding away from Brendon until they weren’t touching.
 
Carefully, Ryan crept from the bed and to the door, turning only once to let his eyes fall over Brendon on the bed.
 
Brendon was splayed out, his mouth open slightly, his brown hair mussed and tousled. As Ryan watched, Brendon let out a little noise and rolled over, clutching at the pillow where Ryan should have been.
 
Tearing his gaze away, Ryan turned and snuck out the door, heading down to the kitchen. He found Spencer already there, a pot of coffee brewing. Spencer didn’t say anything as he entered and took a seat on one of the stools at the island.
 
Jon stumbled in a few minutes later just as Spencer took the coffee from the brewer and poured himself and Ryan a cup.
 
“Morning,” Jon mumbled, not completely awake as he slid up behind Spencer, kissing his neck softly. “Ooh, coffee.” He let go of Spencer and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.
 
Ryan ignored them, adding milk and sugar to his cup. His mind was back in the bedroom with Brendon.
 
Spencer was the first to speak, pausing as he lifted his simple black coffee to his lips. “How are you feeling?”
 
Ryan glanced up briefly and shrugged. “Tired, drained, annoyed.”
 
Spencer sighed. “I hate to say this, Ryan, but—”
 
“I know, I know,” Ryan grumbled, interrupting him. “If I hadn’t slept with Bill, none of this would have happened. Well, it wasn’t my fault. He was the one who wanted to.”
 
“But you did anyway,” Spencer pointed out. “And it’s not the first time.”
 
“Are you accusing me of sleeping around?”
 
“No.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m accusing you of making bad decisions that endanger the team.”
 
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know, Spence.”
 
“You don’t act like it sometimes.”
 
Ryan turned to glare at Spencer, but Jon was there, smiling and sliding between them easily.
 
“Come on, now, boys. Let’s just forget about the past and focus on the future. Like the Hope Diamond. It’s a pretty thing, right? And pulling it off will not only get Gabe off our backs, but put us on the map as some of the best thieves on the west coast.”
 
Ryan just turned away grumbling and Spencer frowned, but didn’t pursue the argument and continued drinking his coffee.
 
Jon sighed but moved out from between them.
 
“You want to take a walk later, Spence?” he asked. “Ryan and I found this cool path on the edge of the property yesterday.”
 
Spencer glanced at him and then Ryan, who didn’t say anything.
 
“Sure.”
 
Jon smiled, content, and silence fell after that until Brendon’s arrival twenty minutes later.
 
Ryan’s eyes shot to him as he entered the kitchen, but neither said anything, and Brendon answered Jon’s greeting and got some coffee.
 
“How did you sleep?” Jon asked, grabbing a muffin from the basket on the counter and taking a bite as Brendon set his coffee down on the island.
 
“Good,” he replied, his eyes flicking to Ryan for just a second. “Better than I have in a while.”
 
“It’s just nerves,” Jon assured him, letting Spencer steal some of his muffin. “It’s always kind of like that before big jobs.”
 
Brendon nodded slowly, although Ryan knew he wasn’t talking about nerves, not last night anyway.
 
“How often do you guys do these jobs?” he asked instead.
 
Spencer shrugged. “It takes a couple months usually to get everything together. Less for smaller jobs. So we do one about every two months or so. Sometimes less because there’s not always something to steal and it isn’t as though we need anything.”
 
“Why do you do it, then?”
 
“Money. The thrill.” He shrugged. “Debts to pay. That kind of thing.”
 
Brendon nodded. His own thievery was for more pressing needs like somewhere to sleep.
 
Ryan wasn’t speaking and simply gazing down at his coffee as Spencer spoke. Brendon glanced at him a few times, but his eyes never rose from the coffee.
 
Spencer caught one of the looks and paused. Picking at Jon’s muffin, he chewed carefully.
 
“How long have you been doing this?” he asked Brendon, bringing Brendon’s eyes away from Ryan’s long fingers curled around the steaming mug.
 
“Well, I’ve never done anything on this scale,” Brendon admitted. “I guess I started in high school when my family didn’t have enough money to buy what I wanted. And then later, I paid my way through college with it. No one ever knew.”
 
“Why didn’t you just get a real job?” Jon asked when Brendon paused.
 
Brendon shrugged. “They never worked out. I don’t like schedules and rules. I like going to the café and taking someone’s wallet to pay for my coffee. It’s more fun that way.” He smiled slightly.
 
Jon laughed and Spencer smiled.
 
Brendon sighed and grabbed a muffin from the basket, but didn’t eat it. Turning it over in his hands and tearing it apart, he snuck another look at Ryan.
 
Spencer watched them carefully, but Ryan didn’t glance up, either ignoring or not noticing Brendon’s furtive looks.
 
Finally, Brendon stood up, sweeping the muffin crumbs into the ceramic (handcrafted in India) trashcan. He smiled at them all.
 
“I need to go look at those blueprints,” he said easily, and Spencer nodded.
 
“Yeah, they’re in the study, top drawer of the desk. Don’t scratch it. It’s pure mahogany.”
 
Brendon nodded and left the kitchen. Spencer watched him and then turned back to Ryan, an eyebrow arched knowingly.
 
“Something you want to tell us, Ry?”
 
Ryan glanced up, frowning slightly and fingering his mug. “No.”
 

Spencer scoffed. “Come on. I saw the looks he was giving you.”
 
“No,” Ryan repeated firmly. “There were no looks. I have nothing to tell you.”
 
Spencer exchanged a disbelieving glance with Jon. “You know, you don’t have to hide it. It wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
 
Ryan stared. “Sure it wouldn’t. It isn’t with you and Jon because you’re stronger than me. You know how to separate things. Real life necessities and what you actually want. You know you could make a choice to save yourselves and the job. What would I do? No. It’s not okay. It wouldn’t be good.” He paused, breathing harder than normal and looking between Jon and Spencer, who looked surprised. “There were no looks, and there’s nothing to tell.”
 
He pushed away from the counter and strode out of the kitchen, leaving his coffee cup on the counter.
 
Spencer watched him go and sighed as he turned back to Jon. Jon gave him a small smile, wrapping his arms around his waist.
 
“He’ll figure it out.”
 
“And if he doesn’t? Or what if he does? Which would be worse?”
 
Jon made a vague noise. “He’ll figure it out.”
 
Spencer sighed against Jon’s shoulder. “You think he believes that?”
 
“What he said?”
 
Spencer nodded.
 
“Yeah,” Jon breathed, bringing Spencer to face him. “And maybe it’s true, but maybe he just needs someone to prove him wrong.”
 
Spencer scoffed. “Like he’ll ever let anyone do that.”
 
Jon smiled. “I proved you wrong once.”
 
Spencer’s eyes softened and he smiled. “Yeah, you did.”
 
Jon kissed him softly and hugged him tightly. “Now it’s Ryan’s turn. He’ll make his choice.”
 
Spencer just sighed and let his eyes close against Jon’s touch.
 
*
 
The day came when Spencer, Ryan, Jon, and Brendon packed their bags and headed for the airport.
 
Brendon had few clothes since when Spencer had found him and told him to come to California, he’d only thrown a few shirts and jeans in his bag along with the jacket he’d been wearing. Spencer, on the other hand, had a suitcase full of designer jeans and two-hundred dollar tee shirts.
 
It was going to be cold in D.C. since it was January. Brendon had looked up the weather and saw that they were predicting snow. Brendon wasn’t sure about the others, but in Seattle, it was mostly rain that he dealt with. He hadn’t seen a drop of rain in California since he’d gotten there.
 
A driver picked them up at Spencer’s house because Spencer refused to leave his Mercedes in an airport lot for a week, and Brendon watched the man struggle to fit all the suitcases in his trunk. Brendon whispered in Jon’s ear to ask what the extra suitcase was for, and Jon replied that it had all the weapons and technological things Ryan needed.
 
Brendon fell silent after that and took his place squished between Jon and Ryan in the back of the car. Ryan purposefully didn’t look at him and stared out the window the entire drive to the airport. When they got there and checked all the bags, Spencer and Jon went ahead to the gate while Brendon hung back with Ryan.
 
Ryan caught him doing this and immediately sped up to walk beside Jon. Brendon just sighed and followed them to the gate.
 
The wait was long for the plane and even longer once they finally boarded.
 
They were in first class, two on either side of the aisle. Brendon took his seat and watched as Ryan and Spencer had a silent argument, but Spencer’s glare finally won out and Ryan took the seat next to Brendon. Spencer settled comfortably next to Jon.
 
Ryan was stubbornly silent as they taxied and took off. Brendon watched him most of the way and knew it was bothering Ryan from the way he shifted every two seconds and kept his face pressed to the little window.
 
The rush of the plane was loud and Brendon knew he was in for a long flight. It was over five hours until they would get to D.C. Sighing, he reclined in his seat slightly and smiled at the flight attendant as she offered him a drink.
 
Jon and Spencer were whispering together in the opposite seats and Spencer murmured something in Jon’s ear before rising from his seat and heading for the bathroom. Jon watched after him for several minutes before slipping from his seat too.
 
Brendon watched him leave and turned back to Ryan, who hadn’t wavered from the window. The landscape below them was nothing more than snow-capped mountains. Brendon figured they were somewhere above northern Arizona or Colorado.
 
Leaning over on the pretense of looking out the window and ignoring the way Ryan leaned back to keep some distance between them, Brendon sighed.
 
“Ryan,” he murmured, his voice low even though the rushing of the plane was too loud to be overheard anyway.
 
Ryan just ignored him, keeping his head tilted back as Brendon invaded his space and glanced at him.
 
“Ryan, can we talk about the other night?”
 
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Ryan replied stiffly. “Nothing happened.”
 
Brendon paused. “I think it did.”
 
“No. There was no kissing, no touching. Nothing.”
 
“Not everything that happens is physical,” Brendon whispered, frowning.
 
“I know that,” Ryan snapped, then quickly shut his mouth for fear of saying something more revealing.
 
Brendon sighed, leaning back slightly so that Ryan could relax a little.
 
“Well, I think something happened.”
 
Ryan sighed a little exasperatedly. “Why can’t you just leave it alone? I don’t want anything to happen.”
 
Brendon paused. “That’s not true.”
 
Ryan turned to stare at him. “Yes, it is.”
 
“Nope.” Brendon shook his head simply. “I know you think about me. If you didn’t, you would have gone to Jon or Spencer the other night.”
 
“You were closest,” Ryan defended himself.
 
“I watch you, Ryan,” Brendon said seriously. “I know you.”

”No, you don’t,” Ryan replied, his voice hard. “Just because you can’t stop staring at me doesn’t mean you know me. It doesn’t mean you know what I want, what I’ve done, what I’ll do.”
 
Brendon bit his lip for a second. “I could.”
 
“You can’t.” Ryan huffed and turned away, staring out the window again at the landscape that hadn’t changed.
 
Brendon hesitated before placing a gentle hand on Ryan’s thigh. Ryan’s eyes shot to it and then to Brendon before narrowing.
 
“I could,” Brendon repeated before Ryan could snap at him for his hand.
 
Ryan paused, staring at Brendon, his expression inscrutable as he blinked. Finally, he just turned away and said nothing about the hand resting on his leg.
 
Brendon watched him for a while after, but removed his hand when Spencer and Jon finally returned, looking a little more ruffled and a lot happier.
 
Brendon didn’t say anything, though, and endured the rest of the flight, distracting himself with the many magazines he had bought at the airport, but boring easily and taking to counting the lights on the walkway. He reached two-hundred and thirty-two by the time the fasten seatbelts light came on and they were descending.
 
It was dark when they finally got off the plane because of the three-hour time difference, and Brendon couldn’t see much beyond the many lights of the city. Their bags were retrieved and a car picked them up outside the airport.
 
Brendon didn’t say much as the car weaved in and out of traffic, often stalling for ten minutes or more for seemingly nothing. Brendon stared out the window as they went. He’d never been to the east coast before and was awed by the thousands of cars crowding the roads, the bright orange streetlights that showed people walking around at eleven at night.
 
Finally, they reached their hotel near the center of town. Brendon knew it had to be expensive, but Spencer certainly wasn’t poor.
 
The hotel was large and elaborate as Brendon stared at it as the driver got the bags from the trunk and Spencer tipped him. The inside was just as ornate if not more. Brendon wasn’t paying much attention as Spencer checked in, too busy inspecting every corner of the place. He saw the lobby restroom, the entrance to the bar-slash-restaurant. He lingered on the staff entrance hidden behind a towering potted plant.
 
Then Spencer was gesturing him forward and handing him a room key. “You and Ryan are in room five-fifty-seven,” he said and Ryan glanced over sharply. Spencer ignored the look. “Jon and I are next door. It’s an adjoined room, so just knock to come over.”
 
Brendon nodded and took the key, slipping it into his back pocket and grabbing his bag. Spencer had refused the porter’s offer to carry them upstairs, and nodded the group forward.
 
Ryan trailed behind Brendon, knowing Spencer had put them together for a reason. He didn’t say anything, though, as they entered the elevator and took it to the fifth floor.
 
Spencer and Jon left them one door away, Spencer saying they would meet the next morning and discuss more plans later.
 
Brendon slid the key through the lock and pushed the door open carefully.
 
Inside the room, it was just as big and elaborate as the rest of the hotel. There were two queen size beds and a sitting area before the large window that opened onto the city. Brendon set his bag down on a bed and went to the window, pulling back the heavy curtain and staring out at the capitol city twinkling back at him.
 
“Wow,” he breathed, but Ryan ignored him, heaving his bag onto the other bed and glancing around. There was a mint on the pillow and a little pamphlet about conserving water that Ryan just tossed onto the table between the beds.
 
Flopping down, he picked up the phone and dialed.
 
“Hello, yes, I’d like a wake-up call at eight tomorrow.”
 
Brendon turned from the window as Ryan spoke, thanking the woman and hanging up. Ryan didn’t meet Brendon’s gaze and reclined back on the numerous fluffy pillows covering the head of the bed.
 
Brendon paused before returning back to the bed and pushing his small bag aside as he sat down and gazed out the window again.
 
“It’s so big,” he said after a minute.
 
Ryan just made a noise to show he was listening.
 
Brendon sighed, turning from the window and gazing at Ryan, his eyes traveling down his body for a moment.
 
Ryan opened his eyes as though he knew what Brendon was doing and glanced over.
 
“Stop watching me.”
 
“Can’t help it.” Brendon smiled softly and Ryan just looked away.
 
“Why did you agree to this job anyway?”
 
Brendon was silent for a moment. “Money.”
 
“That’s it?”
 
Brendon sighed. “You don’t understand. You have money and you do big jobs that get you millions of dollars in one go. I pick pockets. I wait on the bus systems, watch for people with thick wallets. I stick my hand down their pants and pull out things I don’t even want to know how they got there. On a good day, I might make a couple hundred dollars. On a bad day, I might make twenty. I don’t take credit cards because it’s too easy to trace nowadays. And people don’t carry cash. So yeah, I did it for money.”
 
Ryan was staring at the ceiling as Brendon spoke. Brendon sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t like Ryan and Spencer and Jon. He knew that. They were in another league completely and he wasn’t sure why they had wanted him in the first place. There were certainly other – better – thieves out there.
 
It was getting late, and apparently Ryan had set the alarm for an eight AM wake-up. Brendon wasn’t really tired since he was still on west coast time where it was only eight o’clock. He knew, though, that Ryan wouldn’t want to go out, not with him anyway, and he was sure that Spencer and Jon were occupied.
 
So he picked up the TV remote and flipped on the television, flipping through the channels, looking for anything interesting. Ryan didn’t seem to care as he watched uninterestedly.
 
Brendon went through all the channels twice before finally settling on a movie he’d seen half a million times. He flipped off the main light and only had the table lamp on, making it dimmer in the room, as he settled in to watch characters he knew and lines he could quote along with in two seconds of watching it.
 
Ryan didn’t speak throughout the movie, only curled against the headboard and watched intently.
 
Brendon started out on his stomach, his hands propped up, but soon changed to sitting against the headboard, a pillow in his lap. Then he moved under the covers but quickly bored with that and ended up lying on his back, his head falling over the edge of the bed as he watched all the action upside down.
 
Ryan frowned as he watched Brendon change position every thirty minutes.
 
“Will you stop moving?” he asked finally after the fifth position change that left Brendon sideways and staring at the screen.
 
“Sorry,” Brendon apologized quickly, sitting up and glancing over at Ryan, who was still in the same position he had started out in. “It’s an old habit. Can’t sit for long in one place.”
 
“You managed on the plane,” Ryan muttered.
 
“I had something to distract me,” Brendon answered honestly, looking from the TV to Ryan, a small smile on his face.
 
Ryan stared back, the same inscrutable look on his face as had been on the plane before. Blinking, he dropped his gaze finally and didn’t reply.
 
Hesitating, Brendon turned back to the TV, but the movie was almost over. Looking back at Ryan, he took a second before slipping off his bed and approaching Ryan’s carefully.
 
“Ryan,” he said softly, and Ryan turned his head, seeing Brendon approach but not stopping him. Brendon hesitated again, being cautious. “I don’t get you.”
 
Ryan paused. “You don’t get me.”
 
Brendon shook his head. “No. I know that you don’t like me, and that you do.”
 
Ryan just stared, watching Brendon drop to his level on his knees.
 
“And I don’t get it.”
 
“What’s to get?” Ryan asked sharply after a minute. “I don’t want you. I don’t anything to do with you.”
 
Brendon sighed for a second. “That’s what I don’t get. Because you could have me.” He moved forward, sliding onto the bed next to Ryan.
 
Ryan curled up his legs, pulling his knees to his chin protectively as he stared at Brendon.
 
Brendon smiled and leaned forward. “And I could have you.”
 
Ryan opened his mouth to argue that point, but Brendon was there, his lips on Ryan’s. Ryan’s legs were pulled away from his body as Brendon maneuvered around, his lips never leaving Ryan’s, and he pushed them back, moving forward until he fit snug in between his legs.
 
Ryan’s eyes were wide and he knew he should be pushing Brendon away, but the part of him that wanted this, the part that he caught staring at Brendon’s ass at times, wasn’t letting him. His eyes closed and he let himself feel.
 
Brendon’s hands were on his legs still, pushing them down and away as he settled on top of one thigh, warm and heavy. Ryan felt the slide of Brendon’s lips against his, hot and wet, his tongue darting out to Ryan’s lips, prying them apart and dipping inside.
 
He felt Brendon’s tongue slipping against his tongue, tracing the roof of his mouth. Brendon’s teeth nipped his lower lip until it almost hurt, but Ryan didn’t want to stop. He wanted to feel more. He wanted to feel everything.
 
Brendon’s hands moved from Ryan’s thighs up his hips, one slipping under his shirt and rubbing circles over his lower back until Ryan let out a harsh breath against Brendon’s mouth and bit his lip in protest of the wonderful feeling against his skin.
 
Brendon pushed into the kiss, sucking Ryan’s lower lip into his mouth, tasting the lingering coffee on his tongue from the plane. He swallowed Ryan’s barely audible moan, his free hand twisting into Ryan’s hair, tugging him back from his lips for a second.
 
His eyes swept over Ryan’s flushed cheeks, his bright eyes, his lips that puffed hot breath over his own. Ryan stared at Brendon in that second, his tongue tracing his lips and a bit of rational thought returning.
 
Brendon saw the cloud in Ryan’s eyes clearing and leaned in, kissing it away.
 
His hips were pressed against Ryan’s and he rocked forward, dragging Ryan with him, feeling the slight shudder that Ryan gave, the gasp. He felt Ryan’s fingers moving to his side and clenching in his tee shirt as their bodies moved, rubbing hard, rocking too slowly for any real pleasure, just desperate teasing.
 
Ryan gasped into Brendon’s mouth, but Brendon just bit nipped his lower lip and dragged it into his mouth. Ryan let himself fall into the kiss, arching his body up with Brendon’s as their hips moved together. His hips slid down, the friction of their bodies sending a rush of heat through his body. His cheeks were pink as he rocked with Brendon, kissing him back hard. It had been a long time since he’d been able to let go like this.
 
Brendon held tightly to Ryan’s back as Ryan started to rock faster, a heady groan in his throat, his mouth still on Brendon’s, unwilling to pull back except for desperate gasps of air.
 
Brendon broke away with a sharp groan as his hips met Ryan’s in a thrust that left them both gasping for air, Ryan dipping down for another hard kiss. Struggling for leverage, Brendon sat up, his hands grabbing for the edge of Ryan’s shirt even as Ryan’s hands went for Brendon’s face, angling his mouth down.
 
The shirt was torn off, contact lost for half a second, but Brendon took advantage, pushing Ryan back so that he was lying across the bed on his back, staring up through glazed eyes. Brendon hastily pulled off his shirt and let it drop somewhere off the edge, turning back to Ryan and finally letting his eyes wander freely over the expanse of skin.
 
Ryan swallowed hard, breathing roughly as he watched Brendon look at him. It was different than usual, though. The look in Brendon’s eye went straight to Ryan’s cock as he stared. God, he wanted this.
 
He bit his already-red and swollen lip as Brendon’s eyes wandered over his body. Then Brendon leaned in, his lips trailing up Ryan’s chest, past his collar bone, leaving ghosts of kisses on his neck and up his jaw until he was kissing Ryan again at full force, lips and tongues, teeth and wetness sliding against each other.
 
Ryan’s eyes closed and he kissed back hard, his hand tangling in Brendon’s hair and his hips dragging upward, searching for the contact he had lost when they moved. But Brendon was too far away and Ryan was resigned to whine into Brendon’s mouth, his moan pitiful as Brendon sucked on his tongue until he couldn’t even think.
 
Brendon pulled away with a gasp for air, moving to Ryan’s jaw, biting down the length of it, his tongue flicking behind, soothing the angry red skin, leaving Ryan panting and moaning above him.
 
Brendon’s hand moved from where it had been resting on the bed to Ryan’s inner thigh, squeezing over his jeans and sliding upward, trailing over the fabric as Ryan writhed beneath him. He pressed kisses down Ryan’s neck, sucking on his collar bone, a red flower blossoming in his wake as he pressed the nip to the spot. His hand slipped up, the heel of his palm digging into Ryan’s erection as Ryan cursed loudly.
 
Gazing down, Ryan found it hard to keep his eyes open as Brendon’s heel rocked into his hard cock rhythmically. Brendon’s hot mouth slid down Ryan’s chest, nipping at the skin, tongue lapping at a nipple until it was hard and Ryan’s breath came in sharp pants.
 
“B-Brendon,” he stuttered, his hand still tight in Brendon’s hair.
 
Brendon paused, sliding back up, laving attention to his neck and jaw, sliding back to bite the patch of skin just below his ear that had Ryan whimpering and going slack in his arms. Brendon’s hand pressed harder, drawing a long moan from Ryan when it left and went for the button and zipper. He got it undone, but didn’t slip his hand underneath.
 
Instead, he pulled away from Ryan’s neck, catching his gaze and dropping a careful kiss to his lips.
 
“Do you want to?” he breathed against Ryan’s lips, his hips jutting forward, needing release of some sort, whether or not Ryan would give it to him.
 
Ryan knew Brendon was trying to be a gentleman, to offer him an out, but all he could think of was how he wanted to feel.
 
Nodding his head quickly, Ryan pulled Brendon’s mouth to his desperately. It was hard and full of longing, and they broke away panting harshly.
 
Brendon managed to quirk a smile. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
 
Ryan actually smiled and Brendon kissed him quickly, sliding away reluctantly, hurriedly digging in his bag and returning as fast as he could.
 
Ryan had shoved down his pants already and waited, a flutter of nerves surfacing as he stared at Brendon by the side of the bed.
 
Brendon wasted no time removing his jeans and sliding back on top of Ryan.
 
His touch was different now, less hasty and more deliberate. He pressed kiss after kiss to Ryan’s collar bone, trailing all the way across his chest. Ryan arched into the touch, his eyes closing carefully as he let himself feel Brendon’s fingers dancing down his side, over his thighs, trailing over his hips.
 
He opened his eyes as he heard the crinkle of plastic and glanced down at Brendon. Brendon threw the condom wrapper away and met Ryan’s eyes with a reassuring smile that had a warm feeling spreading through Ryan’s stomach.
 
It vanished, though, as a finger pressed inside his body. It was slick with lube already and Ryan pushed back against it, wanting to feel more. He didn’t just want the regular burn of someone else inside him. He wanted more. He wanted Brendon to give him more.
 
Brendon only pressed in two fingers before he was removing them, far too impatient to add a third. Bracing himself against the bed, he pushed Ryan’s legs up, aligning his hips carefully before pushing in.
 
Ryan felt the initial burn, the sharp pain, flash over his body, but he pressed back against it eagerly. It was a slow drag as Brendon filled him, moving forward until Ryan felt as though he couldn’t breathe against the combination of pain and dull throb of his cock that twitched between their bodies.
 
“B-Bren,” he stuttered, opening his eyes against the shudder that passed through his body. “Move, fuck, move.”
 
Brendon didn’t start out slow. He couldn’t wait, and so, moved fast. The pace was quick and the bed rocked with their motion, but it wasn’t audible over the sharp pants, the gasped encouragements.
 
Ryan felt the throb, the burn of Brendon inside him, thrusting hard and recklessly, his legs falling down. He felt the flush rise on his skin, the sweat beading on his forehead as he panted openly. His hips arched up, pulling Brendon flush against him, feeling his erratic heartbeat against his chest as Brendon’s hips moved.
 
Brendon pushed himself up, catching Ryan’s lips in a hard kiss that lasted only a second before both were pulling away and gasping for breath.
 
Ryan’s fingers moved to Brendon’s hip, pulling him in, dragging him forward until Brendon pressed against that spot inside him that Ryan loved. He felt the prickle on his skin, the hot, tightening in his stomach.
 
Hastily, his hand flew to his cock, stroking in time with Brendon’s thrusts, becoming more and more reckless as time went on. His groan was low and long as his hips jerked up and his body shuddered through his climax, his stomach tightening, clenching and releasing as he came.
 
Panting for breath, he felt Brendon still moving, trying hard to match Ryan. He felt Brendon’s hot, panted breath on his shoulder, the groan in his ear through gritted teeth. Clenching his body, Ryan felt Brendon come hard, his mouth falling open and kissing Ryan until he couldn’t breathe and he fell back, his hips still jerking inside him as he slid down on top of him.
 
Ryan felt Brendon’s heartbeat slowing to match his and thought it incredibly cliché, but couldn’t help smiling at the thought.
 
Brendon let out a low breath, his head resting against Ryan’s shoulder. He traced a finger over the mark he’d left on his collar bone. He could feel the teeth marks, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind.
 
When his breathing steadied, Brendon moved, pulling out slowly and peeling off the condom and throwing it away. He scooted back to Ryan, knowing they needed to shower, but wanting to prolong the separation.
 
He didn’t know what it was about Ryan that made him want to keep him in his arms as long as possible.
 
Ryan sighed into the quiet, his eyes falling shut as he felt Brendon’s even breath against his skin. He knew it would be a mistake in the morning, that he’d just dug himself the biggest hole this side of the equator, but he almost didn’t care. He just wanted to enjoy this, if only for a few minutes before he had to face reality and realize that he and Brendon couldn’t work if either of them wanted to succeed.
 
Finally, though, Ryan knew he had to stop this before it got too out of hand and he started thinking about the future. There was no future for them. Brendon would help them steal the diamond and then fly back to Seattle with his payment and Ryan would be content in his group of three as he once was.
 
Struggling upward, Ryan pushed back his askew hair and ignored Brendon’s glance. “We should shower.”
 
“Together?” Brendon inquired, the smile evident in his voice, but Ryan didn’t look.
 
“Alone.” He slid from the bed and headed for the shower, not looking back to see the puzzled look on Brendon’s face.
 
*
 
Eight AM came far too soon and Brendon woke with a jerk at the phone ringing loudly in his ear. Groaning and turning over, burying his head under one of the many extra pillows on his bed, he heard the ringing stop with the click of the receiver.
 
Closing his eyes again, Brendon tried to go to sleep, ignoring the shuffle of Ryan in the next bed as he slid out and got dressed quietly. He sighed and loosened the pillow smothering him and stared out the crack to see the light streaming in through the slit in the curtain. He reminded himself to shut it better the next night.
 
He heard Ryan go into the bathroom and the click of the door shutting.
 
He frowned, his mind straying to the night before. He thought of Ryan and how he’d refused to speak to him after his shower and how he had lain awake for a long time after his own shower. He still didn’t understand Ryan. In fact, he understood less after the night before.
 
He didn’t know what the morning would bring, but he didn’t really want to find out if it had to be before ten o’clock. So Brendon huffed and tugged the pillow down and shut his eyes tightly. It wasn’t time to get up.
 
It was useless, though, as Brendon tried to fall back asleep. He could hear Ryan getting ready in the bathroom and knew he would be fully dressed by the time Brendon dragged himself out of bed. Ryan was a naturally early riser, though Brendon didn’t quite understand how.
 
The bathroom door creaked open and Brendon sighed silently, knowing he’d have to get up now.
 
Ryan didn’t say anything, though, as he sat down on his bed and flipped on the television to the news station.
 
Peeking out from under the pillow, Brendon pushed it away, wincing in the light and sitting up, rubbing his eyes and pushing his hair back. Ryan didn’t even glance at him as he pushed back the covers and padded into the bathroom.
 
Brendon could hear the TV through the wall, and when he emerged, Ryan was still staring at the screen while the reporter talked about the weather and possibilities of snow in Alexandria and Springfield. Brendon paused, watching him for a minute, but not even getting a twitch of his mouth, so he sighed and wandered over to his suitcase and pulled out a pair of clean jeans and a tee shirt. He knew it would be cold, but didn’t bother to add more clothes.
 
Wandering over to the door that separated his and Spencer and Jon’s room, he pulled open his door and knocked lightly on the second one.
 
He was unsurprised when it opened mere seconds later and Spencer stood there, impeccably dressed in designer jeans and a jacket. Jon was lounging on the bed behind, also flipping through TV channels and picking at fruit from a silver tray on the bed with him.
 
“Good, you’re up,” Spencer said, glancing from Brendon to Ryan on the bed, who ignored him and continued watching the news. “Get something to eat then come over and we’ll talk.”
 
Then the door was shut and Brendon paused. Turning to Ryan, he took a minute.
 
“You want to go find something to eat?” he suggested, smiling at him.
 
Ryan just gave a vague noise and didn’t meet his eyes. Brendon tried not to let it bother him.
 
“Okay, well, I’m going to. If I’m not back in half an hour, assume the government caught me.”
 
His joke went unacknowledged and he sighed, grabbing his jacket and swinging it on as he left the room to the continued murmur of the newscasters now talking about the current security level of the state.
 
*

part 3