Bonus Points: Team Jon: Devil's Advocate

part 1

“So where are we going?” Jon asked Brendon, Spencer’s hand clasped in his. After what seemed like hours of chaos in Spencer’s apartment as the three got ready for the art show, it seemed refreshing to Jon and Spencer to have stepped outside, but Brendon was all nerves. Ryan had explained to Brendon that there were several artists to be showcased that night, and he encouraged Brendon to bring his friends. He just hoped he looked all right and didn’t screw anything up.

Brendon sighed, unable to shake the nervous feeling in his stomach. “The gallery is just a few blocks down.”

Jon and Spencer spent the walk there talking quietly to each other, exchanging chuckles and musings about what to expect from the night, while Brendon just walked ahead of them in silence.

What had happened to Brendon? He had been so confident, so sure earlier that day. But now he was unsure. He thought about it, and yeah, he was sure he wanted to break up with his girlfriend, but then what? Did he really expect for him and Ryan to just magically ride off into the sunset? They lived in two different cities, two different states, and both of them were leaving the day after tomorrow to go back home to their lives.

Brendon didn’t even know what Ryan saw him as. He knew that he saw Ryan as something special, something that he could spend his whole life looking for and missing. But Ryan could just have seen him as a fling, something fun he did during his trip to New York, an anecdote for his buddies at best. He was confused again. He had no idea what Ryan expected of him.

Finally, they came upon the gallery. Brendon could see through the glass that it was bustling with people. He took a deep breath and turned to Jon and Spencer behind him, giving a pleading look to the couple.

“Okay, you can’t look at us like that, Brendon,” Jon said, his heart going out to Brendon. Unlike Spencer who was as unapologetic as they come and therefore could not fully grasp how Brendon was feeling, Jon understood the uncertainty Brendon was facing. He patted Brendon on the shoulder. “We’ll be here for support,” Jon mumbled into his ear, and Brendon turned to see Spencer nodding behind him.

“Thanks, guys,” Brendon muttered with a half-smile and then led them inside.

He wove through the people admiring the art as Spencer and Jon followed, not even glancing at any of the paintings, until he went around a wall and stopped immediately.

There he was, standing by a painting and gesturing to it as he talked to interested potential buyers. And to Brendon, Ryan looked breath-takingly beautiful. His eyes washed over the fitted leather jacket that covered an untucked white button-down, complete with a dark tie. His tight black pants rode low, and Brendon knew that if he lifted his arms even a little, Ryan would reveal a strip of creamy skin and those hips that were just to die for. As he eyed Ryan’s neatly styled hair, he smirked when he noticed the hickey that peaked out from behind the collar of his shirt. Brendon couldn’t help feeling proud that he’d put it there.

The two people that he was talking to walked away, and he felt a push at the small of his back as Jon shoved him forward. “We’ll be right here,” Jon whispered in Brendon’s ear before turning back to the painting Spencer was looking at.

Brendon moved forward, and Ryan looked up as he approached and smiled widely at him. Brendon felt a flutter as his heart had seemed to jolt at the sight.

“Hey,” he said breathlessly as he stood awkwardly in front of Ryan, completely unsure of how he was supposed to greet him. Brendon was saved, however, since Ryan had taken it upon himself to lean in and steal a kiss. Brendon was surprised at the public display of affection, but he was very relieved because it was what he’d wanted to do himself.

“Hey,” Ryan said as he pulled back. He glanced around. “Where are your friends?”

Brendon gestured to the next room. “They’re in there somewhere. Want to go say hi?”

“In a minute,” Ryan said. He grinned at Brendon. “How are you?”

“Great,” Brendon said truthfully because he could now breathe easily now that he knew Ryan wouldn’t be distant. “How are you?”

“Wonderful,” Ryan said, eyes shining. It was amazing to Brendon how different Ryan seemed. He’d seen him at his most vulnerable, and after such a night as they had, Brendon looked at Ryan in a different light. He decided that he preferred seeing Ryan this way. Ryan was like a well-kept secret that Brendon felt proud to have learned. “People seem interested in my stuff.”

Ryan’s excited tone was contagious as Brendon said almost as excitedly, “I haven’t seen them yet. You need to show me!”

Ryan gave Brendon an indulgent smile and said, “Alright.” He took Brendon’s hand to lead him further into the room, and Brendon’s heart beat faster as he became aware that their hands were clasped together so intimately. Finally, they came to a wall where about seven paintings were clustered together.

Brendon didn’t know much about art, but what he did know was that Ryan’s paintings were beautiful. The thing that united them all was that Ryan used very bright and vibrant colors in his paintings. One painting in particular caught his attention. It appeared to be of a bright blue flower, but upon closer inspection, the flowers petals blended into the hair of a girl hidden in the dark background. Her sad smile was a fallen flower petal, and for some reason, it struck something within Brendon.

“So what do you think?” Ryan asked, and Brendon tore his eyes away from the painting.

“These are amazing, Ryan.” Ryan nodded, biting his lip, and Brendon added, “No, really. I mean it. I mean, I love this one.” He gestured to the flower girl, and a smile crept across Ryan’s face.

“Really?”

Brendon nodded firmly, “Really.”

Ryan sighed and kissed Brendon on the cheek, and Brendon felt his face start to warm as he blushed.

“Hey Ryan!” Spencer’s voice rang through the room as he and Jon bounded over to the two men.

The guys chatted about the art, Spencer and Jon gushing to Ryan about his pieces as Brendon watched with a gleam in his eye. They all got on remarkably well, Ryan fitting in seamlessly and unexpectedly.

“Ryan, there you are!” a man exclaimed as he approached the foursome. Brendon eyed his tattoos, flat-ironed hair, and eyeliner with amusement. He had no idea what to make of this small but obviously feisty man.

Ryan chuckled. “Hey Pete.” He turned to Jon, Spencer, and Brendon. “Guys, this is Pete Wentz. This is his gallery.” The three shook hands with him, and Brendon’s immediate impression of him was that he was charming and spirited.

“So Pete, what does it take to get your pieces shown here?” Spencer asked him.

Pete laughed. “Well, talent, money, and clout.” He patted Ryan on the shoulder. “But for Ryan here, he just needed the talent.” They all hummed in agreement as Ryan turned away modestly. “No really,” he continued, “Ryan might be my friend so I did him a favor, but I wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t have the talent.”

“A favor?” Brendon asked.

Ryan nodded. “Pete offered to pretty much include me in the show pro bono.”

Pete shrugged. “I don’t know, after all the times you held my hair back as I puked my guts out in your toilet, I kind of owed you. Oh, pardon me,” Pete said as if remembering something, and they all watched him place stickers on the placards next to three out of the seven paintings, indicating that they were sold.

Ryan’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah, kid.” Pete ruffled his hair. “Now, don’t you think you should be out glad-handing potential clients?”

Ryan gave Brendon an apologetic look, and Brendon gave him a smile and a whispered “Go on.” As the two walked away, Pete looked back and flashed Brendon an amused smile and a good-natured wink.

Brendon, Jon, and Spencer just stood together wordlessly as they stared up at Ryan’s paintings until Spencer piped up with “Okay, so we’re going to go, Brendon.”

He shook himself out of his slight reverie that starred Ryan. “Wait, what?”

Spencer laughed. “You obviously don’t need us here. You stay. Ryan obviously likes you.”

Brendon began to blush furiously at the idea. “But-”

“Just tell him we ditched you to go back and have sex. It’ll work,” Jon interrupted and gave him a “trust me” nod.

“Work?” Brendon wasn’t sure what he was hinting at, but he received another wink nonetheless. And with that, the two left with one last wave.

Brendon sighed and looked around. Ryan was busy talking to a couple of strange-looking individuals so he turned back to gaze at that one painting that had caught his attention. He didn’t know why but he felt some sort of connection to it. It was as if he could feel the emotion behind it, and he turned to watch Ryan again. There was a lot about Ryan he didn’t know. Brendon didn’t know his story, but he wanted to hear it. He wanted to know what made Ryan tick, what his personal tragedies were, what had turned him into the man before him.

His eyes shifted, and he caught sight of Pete behind a desk, writing in some type of ledger. He glanced back to the painting and the placard below it. Ryan had titled it “Iris”. He nodded once to himself and headed over to Mr. Wentz, a man on a mission.



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“What are you still doing here, Brendon?” Ryan asked. The crowd had thinned considerably, but Brendon hadn’t noticed as he talked animatedly to Pete who had a million and one stories, each one as fascinating and exciting as the next.

“Spencer and Jon left him,” Pete answered for Brendon. “Call me before your flight, okay?” Ryan nodded, and Pete bid them goodnight.

Ryan turned to Brendon with a smile. “Come on,” he said, and Brendon followed him out into the night.

They walked in comfortable silence for a couple of blocks, and then Brendon asked in a curious tone, “Where are we going?”

“My hotel room,” Ryan said simply. Brendon raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

They walked another block in silence, and then Ryan’s voice cut through the air. “What did you mean?” Brendon stopped walking, and Ryan stopped next to him. Brendon gestured for Ryan to go on further. “Clarity,” he said. “What did you mean by that?”

And Brendon understood. For once, Ryan couldn’t completely figure it out. But it was obvious that he genuinely wanted to know, to understand him, so Brendon tried to explain. “Do you wear glasses?” Brendon asked Ryan.

Ryan shook his head. “Twenty-twenty.”

“Well, I do. I mean, I’m wearing contacts right now, but I have them. I remember when I first got glasses.” He laughed and shook his head. “I looked like such a nerd. But when I put them on, I was so shocked that I’d gone through life without them. I didn’t realize that everything was so blurry until I put my glasses on.” He paused. “It was kind of like that. Last night, with you, it was like I put my glasses on.”

Ryan eyed him carefully before nodding and walking on. He understood.

They had finally made it to the hotel, and they breezed through the lobby and into an elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Brendon had Ryan up against a wall, kissing him deeply with his hands pressed against Ryan’s shoulders. A soft “mmmm” vibrated against Brendon’s mouth as the elevator bell dinged, and Brendon looked around at the empty hallway before dragging him out, hand pulling firmly at Ryan’s tie. They kissed again, and Ryan’s lips slipped from Brendon’s to his ear.

“Room 1504,” he whispered, and Brendon grinned, grabbing at Ryan’s hands to pull him to the hotel room. It was only a few doors down, and Ryan reached into his back pocket and produced his key. As he turned it, Brendon reached around, slipping his hand underneath the hem of Ryan’s button-down to caress the soft skin on his hip.

The door opened, and the two of them stumbled into the modest hotel room, both chuckling, as Brendon wrapped his arms fully around Ryan. They kissed again, Brendon’s tongue delving into Ryan’s mouth to taste him again. The backs of Ryan’s knees hit the bed, and they fell against it, the two laughing softly. Brendon moved to straddle him and pushed Ryan’s leather jacket off, and Ryan sat up to let it slip from his shoulders.

“Lie back,” Brendon said, again slipping into that authoritative tone as he tugged Ryan’s tie off.



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Fingers trailed along Brendon’s stomach, tracing invisible circles onto it and tickling him. Brendon let out a giggle and twitched, and Ryan grinned fully at him, eyes crinkling at the corners and everything, before turning back to focus on the circles his finger made against Brendon’s skin. His smile remained as he did so.

Brendon reached around to roam through Ryan’s wavy brown hair. “I like when you smile like that.” Ryan looked up, and Brendon slid his hand from his hair so that his thumb ran over his cheekbone, down to his jaw, and under his chin. “You look happy when you do.”

Ryan averted his gaze again, still smiling slightly and his fingers still touching Brendon’s stomach, drawing invisible hoops around his belly button to turn it into a flower.

A question nagged at Brendon’s mind, and he couldn’t help it when it came out. “Why are you with me?”

Brendon knew why he was with Ryan. He was attractive, insightful, and most importantly, Ryan seemed to just get Brendon, which was extraordinary since Brendon didn’t get himself most of the time. But Brendon couldn’t possibly see why someone like Ryan would look twice at someone so lost as himself.

Ryan looked up again and studied Brendon’s face. “You make me smile.”

Brendon’s heart filled with warmth at Ryan’s words as Ryan finally laid his head down on Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon reached over and shut off the light, and Ryan’s hand stilled, his palm resting on Brendon’s chest.



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The two strolled down the street, Ryan’s hand clasping Brendon’s. Brendon wanted to see more of the city before he left, and Ryan graciously agreed to come with him. They had just had lunch and had decided to walk through the park again.

“So what about your family?” Brendon asked Ryan.

“What about them?”

Brendon sighed and gave his hand a squeeze. “Tell me about them.”

A silence followed. “Only child, parents live in San Diego. I don’t talk to them very much.”

“Why?”

Ryan glanced at him and answered, “I was never really close to them. I was a weird kid.” Ryan chuckled and then asked, “What about you?”

Brendon bit his lip. “I have a sister who’s married with kids, lives in Missouri. My parents live in Idaho.”

They laughed a bit, and Ryan pulled Brendon into a soft kiss. “What was that for?” Brendon asked, and Ryan just shrugged.

They walked on for a few minutes but stopped when the phone in Brendon’s pocket rang. He dropped Ryan’s hand to answer it and involuntarily rolled his eyes when he checked the number.

“Hello?”

“Brendon! You haven’t called.” His girlfriend’s voice was falsely cheery, and he hated it.

“Look, I’m busy. I’ll call you when I get home tomorrow.”

She huffed into the line. “Fine. I’ll talk to you later.” She promptly hung up, and he shoved the phone back in his pocket.

Brendon turned back to Ryan and took his hand, continuing their walk.

“Who was that?” Ryan asked, and Brendon clenched his jaw and looked down to the ground.

“That was my girlfriend,” he mumbled

Ryan stopped in his tracks and let go of Brendon’s hand. “Oh.”

“But I’m going to break up with her!” Brendon rushed out.

Ryan sighed tiredly and rubbed at his eye. “Don’t bother, Brendon.”

Anxiety rushed through him as Brendon grabbed desperately at him. “No, Ryan, you don’t understand.”

Ryan gave Brendon a small smile. “Brendon, tomorrow, you’re going to go home. You’re going to go back to your life in Vegas, your girlfriend, your job. And I’m going to go back to my life in San Francisco. We’ve had an amazing time together, I’m not going to deny that. But let’s just leave it at that.”

“What?” Something tore through Brendon’s heart, and he felt a sting behind his eyes as they watered.

“Please don’t look at me like that, Bren.” Ryan gave him an imploring look. “What did you think was going to happen?”

Brendon looked down and willed the tears to stay back. “But… But I want to be with you.” He did not want to imagine leaving all of this the next day. He did not want to forget Ryan, tuck him into a drawer labeled “Fun Flings”, and just go on with his life. Brendon didn’t want any of that. He just wanted Ryan.

Ryan winced at Brendon’s words. “Please, Brendon. I’m just trying to be realistic.”

Brendon took a deep breath, giving in. “O-Okay.” They said nothing as Brendon stared at his feet. Then Brendon looked up, putting a smile on his face and wiping away the single tear that had escaped onto his cheek. “Does that mean we have to say goodbye now?”

Ryan shook his head, leaned in, and kissed Brendon softly on the lips. “No,” he whispered.

After meeting Spencer and Jon for dinner that night, Brendon and Ryan spent the night together yet again. Brendon savored it, knowing that that night would probably be their last time together. He wanted to remember everything: the way Ryan moved in him, what it felt like when their sweaty bodies moved against each other, the way he tasted, how whenever Ryan looked into his eyes, it was as if he was learning him. Everything.

The two of them talked for hours afterwards, and they laughed and smiled together and held the other close to them.

And when Brendon was finally asleep, Ryan let himself match Brendon for his earlier tear, and it rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away when it reached his jaw and sniffed quietly before falling fast asleep against Brendon’s body.



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“I don’t want to leave,” Brendon mumbled as he hugged Spencer goodbye. “I’m sorry I was a terrible house guest.”

Spencer snorted. “Tell me about it. I’m going to have to burn that couch now.” Brendon hit him. “No really, Brendon. It was great to see you. I’ve got a feeling we’ll see each other again soon.”

“I hope so,” Brendon said.

He turned to Jon and hugged him. “Thanks, man. You’re one cool guy.”

He chuckled. “I know. You too.”

Finally, Ryan showed up in a cab. He got out and helped Brendon with his things before shaking hands with Spencer and Jon, saying how nice it was to have met them. As he turned away, two pairs of hands pulled him back into a hug as Brendon laughed, and Ryan chuckled. They all bid farewell to each other, and Brendon and Ryan got into the cab to head for the airport.

Ryan’s flight was direct this time and with a different airline as it had been a cheaper option, so they stopped at his terminal first. Brendon dolefully helped him with his bags, refusing to meet Ryan’s gaze as he did so.

Ryan grabbed his arm to still his motions, and he raised a long, thin finger to Brendon’s chin and forced him to look up. And there it was, that staring thing that Ryan did with Brendon where his eyes dove into Brendon’s so that he could read his thoughts and feelings. “I won’t ever forget you, Brendon,” he said, and Brendon knew that he meant it.

“Me too,” he mumbled sadly. He felt like something truly amazing was slipping away from him, and it killed him. Brendon leaned forward and kissed him one last time, memorizing the softness of Ryan’s lips and the feel of his tongue sliding in briefly before pulling away.

“You have a safe flight, you hear?” Ryan said, and Brendon nodded.

“Goodbye,” Brendon said, and the word cut him like a knife.

Ryan nodded firmly. “Goodbye.” And with that he gave Brendon one last peck on the cheek before grabbing his bags and turning to go inside.

Brendon threw himself back into the cab and let out the sob that he’d been holding back for Ryan’s sake. The cab driver drove to the opposite side of the airport to his own terminal. He paid the driver and got out, grabbing his bags as fast as he could and going inside.



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Finally, Brendon was home. The cab from the airport had dropped him off in front of his building, and he’d hauled his bags up the stairs. Brendon almost dropped them, however, when he saw the package leaning against his door.

He swallowed because he knew what it was, but he’d almost forgotten about it. Pete had given him the option of shipping it overnight for no additional charge as a favor, so he’d taken it. He picked up the package and opened his front door with the key. His bag fell from his shoulder with a thud, and he brought the package into the living room. He sat down and opened it until there it was. “Iris”.

A rush of all the memories of his trip to New York overtook him, and fresh tears watered his eyes until a few spilled onto his cheeks. He took a deep, calming breath and wiped them from his face. He briefly thought about not hanging it up because he knew the sight of it would make him sad, but he knew that something as beautiful as this painting didn’t deserve to sit in the back of his closet.

So he grabbed some nails and a hammer, and soon, Ryan’s painting was hanging over his sofa. He stepped back and thought that it brought a little life to Brendon’s apartment. Afterwards, he fell back onto the couch and quickly dozed off.

His phone ringing in his pants woke Brendon up, and he reached in his pocket for it and answered it as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“Hello?” Brendon choked out.

“Brendon, are you home?” That fake, cheery voice was grating to Brendon’s half asleep mind.

Brendon’s voice still sounded drowsy. “Yeah. I would’ve called you, but I fell asleep right when I got home.” And then Brendon remembered what he had to do. “Look, do you think you can come over?”

“Sure,” she said gleefully, “I’ll be over in a bit.”

When she came over, he got right down to the point. Brendon wasn’t into her like he should be, and he didn’t want to lead her on. He’d cheated on her in New York, and he was very sorry. She was pissed off, and she punched him in the arm before storming out. When she left, he felt just that much lighter.



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He’d been back for a week, back to his job and the boring clients and the boring paperwork that he just couldn’t give a shit about. His life in Vegas was beginning to feel like torture. He hated it more than he thought he could, but he felt like there was something more for him out there. Brendon was beginning to think that having a secure job was not very important to him. He wasn’t happy in it, never was, and now he knew that all he wanted was to be happy in his choices.

So at the end of the week, he drafted his two weeks’ notice and handed it in. Those two weeks went by in a blur. No one seemed to care too much that he was leaving, but he’d expected as much. He’d already lined up another job as a waiter at a restaurant on the Strip. On his last day, he packed up his desk into a box and went home with a huge smile on his face.

Brendon was probably going to have to move or get a roommate to help pay for his apartment until he figured out what he really wanted to do with his life, but he didn’t care too much. He never felt so free in his life. That is, except for when he was with Ryan, but he tried not to think about that too much.

He was so caught up with everything, from quitting his job to starting his new one that when he got Spencer’s excited sounding voicemail, he silently berated himself for not calling Spencer sooner with news of what had been happening in his life.

When Brendon called him back, he got the shock of his life. “We’re getting married!” Spencer shouted excitedly into the phone.

“Really?” Brendon said, trying to comprehend it.

“Yeah! Jon and I are flying to California to get married on the beach.” Brendon smiled to himself at the image. He was really happy for them; if he had to name a couple he could see spending their whole lives together, it’d be them, no question. “And guess what, Brendon. You’re coming with us.”

Brendon laughed. “What?”

“You are coming with us. I want you to be there, and well, I would think you’d want to come to San Francisco anyway.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat before asking, “San Francisco?”

“Yes, Brendon.” Spencer’s voice had suddenly turned sympathetic.

“But-”

“Think about it. I know you want to see him. I could tell when you guys left that, even after only a few days, you’d fallen for him. It’s killing you, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Brendon whispered. “But, Spence, I can’t afford to fly out there. I just quit my job, and my new one doesn’t pay as well.”

Spencer made a dismissive noise. “Please, Brendon. I invited you, didn’t I? I’ll pay for you.”

After much argument, Brendon gave in. He’d be going to San Francisco in two weeks.



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Brendon had finished packing for the early morning flight to San Francisco. Jon had managed to find flights for them that would mean that Brendon would have to only wait about forty-five minutes at the airport to meet them. Jon and Spencer had already made the necessary arrangements for the ceremony. It seemed that they were pretty serious. They’d also invited a couple of friends who lived locally, but all in all, there would only be about ten people present.

Brendon had picked his bag up from his bed and went out of the room to drop it near the door. As he was in the living room, he turned and eyed the painting, and the girl with the sad smile stared back at him. It wasn’t the same, at least that’s what Brendon thought. He sighed and made a decision.

He looked around for his wallet and combed through the bills and receipts until he found what he was looking for. He fingered the plain business card with Pete Wentz’s number on it, and after figuring that, with the time difference, it wasn’t too late to call, he took out his phone and dialed the number.

“Peter Wentz,” the voice said professionally on the other line.

Brendon took a deep breath. “Hey Pete, it’s Brendon. Brendon Urie, Ryan’s friend?”

The voice that had been professional a moment before shifted to a more relaxed tone. “Brendon! Of course I remember you. Did you get the painting alright?”

“Yeah, it arrived before I did actually. Great condition too.”

Pete chuckled. “Good. That’s good. And I swear I didn’t tell Ryan you bought it. He was pretty pissed off at me for a bit, but I just said the buyer wanted to remain anonymous.”

“Thanks for that. Look,” Brendon started, “I don’t want to beat around the bush, so I’ll just come out and say it. I called to ask for Ryan’s number.”

“Ah,” Pete said. “I thought you guys were friends.”

Brendon sighed. “It’s more complicated than that.”

There was a pause at the other end. “I knew it,” Pete said, and Brendon could feel the knowing smile on the other end.

Brendon tried a different approach. “I’m going to be in San Francisco for a wedding this weekend. Actually, it’s Spencer and Jon’s, and I wanted to drop in on him and say hello, maybe invite him to the wedding.”

“You’re not a stalker, are you?” Brendon laughed at Pete’s question. Didn’t Spencer think that about Ryan just a few weeks ago?

“No, I’m not,” Brendon answered.

“Oh, well good,” Pete said. “Then I won’t feel bad about giving you his number and the address to his studio.”



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“I’m so excited!” Spencer exclaimed to Jon, and Brendon smiled happily at them. They were riding the Bart, and according to Jon, their hotel would be right by the stop.

When they got off and climbed the stairs to the street level, they were greeted with the bustling life of San Francisco in the day. So many different types of people were just walking by them, some hurried and rushed, others just taking their time. Brendon had never been there before, but already, he was beginning to like the city.

They walked quickly, and soon, they’d found their way to a nice hotel. It was old and cozy, and Brendon loved it. The man at the desk handed him the key to his room, and he told Spencer and Jon he’d meet them in a half an hour for a late lunch as they’d all complained about being hungry.

Lunch came and went, and throughout the day, the slip of paper with the address to Ryan’s studio burned in his pocket. Brendon had decided against calling him, figuring it would be too awkward over the phone. He decided to leave Spencer and Jon to their business as they still had things to plan and find a bus that would take him close to where Ryan worked.

Ryan’s studio, it seemed, was near Haight St. When Brendon got off the bus, he decided to go through the shops first. He knew he was scared, that he was procrastinating and trying to drum up the courage to see Ryan again. He had planned that the time at the airport would be the last time he saw Ryan, but he knew he couldn’t live with himself if he let that be true.

Finally, after ducking out of a shop with a full outfit appropriate for the wedding the next day, he walked towards the address Pete had given him. Pete had said that Ryan usually stays at his studio until nightfall, and it was only five o’clock so Brendon was sure he’d still be there.

Brendon found the place okay and stood at the door for a good two minutes before lifting his fist and knocking on it. He heard a muffled “Come in,” and he knew the voice to be Ryan’s.

When he entered the studio, he saw Ryan immediately in the corner of the room, and his heart melted. He wore a tank top and jeans, both items of clothing stained with paint splatters. The shirt that Ryan wore accentuated the sharpness of his finely toned shoulders and arms, and Ryan stood barefoot in front of a canvas, brush in hand. Brendon was starting to have trouble breathing, the sight of Ryan almost being too much.

Finally, Ryan turned, and when he saw Brendon, Ryan was frozen to the spot. His eyes wouldn’t leave Brendon’s, almost as if he believed Brendon would disappear the minute he looked away.

“Brendon?” Ryan whispered.

Brendon cleared his throat, and Ryan put the brush in his hand down and walked over to him. “Yeah. Hi Ryan.”

“Hi,” Ryan said quietly. “What are you doing here, Brendon?” He didn’t waste any time, and Brendon wasn’t sure if he was thankful for it or not.

“Spencer and Jon are getting married. On the beach,” Brendon offered, and Ryan chuckled.

“Good for them,” Ryan said, and that something in Brendon’s gut twisted a little at the sight of the smile on Ryan’s face.

“I came to invite you. It’s tomorrow.”

Ryan gave Brendon a nod. “Well, I’ll be there.”

An awkward silence enveloped them. Brendon moved into the room further and went to look out the window as Ryan’s eyes followed him the whole time.

“I like this city,” Brendon said. “I’ve been thinking about moving here. Spencer and Jon want to move here too.”

Ryan sighed. “Brendon, you can’t just move here like that.”

Brendon turned away from the window to face Ryan. “Why not?”

“Don’t you have a life out in Vegas?”

“Not really,” Brendon said, and it was the truth. “I broke up with my girlfriend, I quit my job, and I’d frankly be living closer to my family.”

Ryan sighed again, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “Is this for me? Brendon, you shouldn’t be doing this for me. You barely know me, and who’s to say we’d work out, Brendon. You’d regret rearranging your life for me.”

Brendon shook his head. “Don’t you get it, Ryan? It’d be for me. These last few weeks have been so weird. It’s torture without you. Before, I could just ignore how monotonous my life had gotten, but then you came along, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I can’t go back to that life, Ryan. I wasn’t happy.”

Brendon took a step forward towards Ryan. “Can you honestly say that you haven’t missed me?”

Ryan swallowed at his words. “I have, Brendon. Trust me, I’ve missed you. I just… I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“I won’t. I’d never…” Brendon trailed off because he’d caught sight of something behind Ryan. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of him, he was so shocked.

Behind Ryan was the canvas that he had been standing at. It was a painting, or at least the beginnings of one, but Brendon could tell what the subject was.

It was him. There was no mistaking it. There were Brendon’s dark hair, eyebrows, dark eyes, nose, full mouth, everything. In the painting, Brendon was looking down with his hand at the back of his head, clearly confused about something.

When he looked away from it, he turned back to Ryan and he met his eyes. Brendon swallowed because he knew the truth.

The truth was that Ryan knew him through and through. He’d seen in Brendon a lost man, and Ryan had been able to capture that in a painting. Everything that Brendon had been feeling, all of that was in that painting across the room. He had no idea how Ryan did it, but Brendon was sure that Ryan knew him better than anyone.

Ryan looked away, turning to see what Brendon had been staring at, and when he turned back, his cheeks were tinged slightly pink. “I… Well, I…” Ryan was struggling for words, clearly embarrassed about the subject of his painting seeing it.

Brendon understood. When Ryan had boldly shown Brendon the drawing of him, it was on his terms. He’d chosen to reveal to Brendon that Ryan had observed him. But Brendon had caught Ryan, who had observed him further. It was different.

Suddenly, Brendon couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped forward once more and was soon devouring Ryan’s mouth, kissing him and wrapping his arms around Ryan’s thin body.

“Fuck, Ryan,” Brendon muttered against him. They were close, really close, but far enough away to talk. “Is that why?” Ryan’s eyes examined Brendon’s face though he said nothing. “I was lost, yeah. I really was. I was so fucking confused about what I wanted out of life. But the one thing I was always sure about was you, Ryan.” Ryan’s eyes widened, and Brendon cupped his cheek. “Always. I never once doubted how much I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.”

And that was the truth, and Ryan knew it as he leaned in and kissed Brendon.

Soon, the two were on the floor together, naked and sated. After a few minutes, Ryan would take Brendon down to a Thai restaurant on Haight for dinner. But for the time being, the two lied in each other’s arms, happy that they’d found each other again.



-------------------



At the restaurant where all ten of them sat, it was loud and slightly rowdy, but it was a time for celebration indeed, so no one complained. To Brendon, Spencer and Jon seemed to be the happiest people in the world at that moment, and he was so amazed that there were at least two people in the world that had made a commitment to take life as it came together.

Brendon had no idea what the future held for him and Ryan. But he did know that in this moment of his life, Brendon needed him to be in it. And Ryan wanted to be in it, and that made him most likely one of the three happiest people in the room.

He had never planned for any of this to happen. Brendon never planned to fall for someone like Ryan. But it happened, and that was all that mattered. So when he looked across the table from him and saw Ryan’s smiling face, he knew he wasn’t confused anymore. Ryan was right when he said that most people didn’t know half the things they thought they knew. Brendon didn’t have all the answers, not even close. But he didn’t need them. He just needed his heart for the tough ones, and Ryan would take care of the rest for him.

Brendon picked up his knife and tapped the glass in front of him. He yelled, “Kiss!” and Jon and Spencer complied ungrudgingly. Then Brendon picked up his glass and stood up to make a toast.

“I’ve never seen two people more perfect for each other than Jon and Spencer,” he said clearly and confidently. “Their love for each other is the kind that songs are written about. May the two have a great life together, a life filled with surprises and adventure and fun and laughter. You never know what life has in store for you until you live it. To Jon and Spencer!”

The entire table of people echoed him, raising their glasses along with him, and Brendon sat back down with only his cheeks flushed a little.

“‘You only know what life has in store for you until you live it.’ Where did you get that?” Ryan asked him playfully.

Brendon grinned at him. “My boyfriend taught me that. He made me realize a lot of things. He’s hot too, you know.”

Ryan snorted. “Is that so?”

“Very much so.”

Ryan shook his head. “You’re too cute,” he muttered as he dug into his food.

“Yeah, but that’s why you love me,” Brendon said mischievously.

Ryan looked up with a shy smile on his face. “Yeah, maybe.”


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