Little Deaths In Musical Beds (Brendon Urie)

Chapter Fourteen: Nothing Rhymes With Circus

The band's first tour only lasted for a month, then the release of their album followed in September. A Fever You Can't Sweat Out, a fitting title for an album written by a boy with teenaged angst and sung by a vocalist who never held back. Ryan and Brendon made a good team, despite the fights, the late nights making melodies work, getting vocals just right, they had a certain lien étroit about them, and no one could touch it.

The Nothing Rhymes With Circus Tour began in November. The boys were excited to be headlining their own tour. The rehearsing they had done, the shows they were going to put on were nothing less than amazing. Brendon had even learned to dance, an attribute that would come in handy when he had to do a number in the show with the back up dancers. The tour was broken up over the holidays and into the New Year, it was a lot of dates, but they didn't seem to mind. Aveline gave in to the fact that the tour bus would be her home for a good while.

Having never been on a tour bus before, when she walked onto it her mouth dropped open at the lack of space. Brendon had told her this bus was bigger than their last. She wondered how the hell they had survived each other over the summer if that were the case. She sighed and laid her duffle bag on the last bottom bunk near the back on the right. At that moment she was glad she was so in love with Brendon, otherwise sleeping in the tomb she'd just laid her bag in, with someone else, would be hell. She felt hands on her shoulders and immediately relaxed. Brendon looked over her shoulders at the bunk and knew what she was thinking. He gently turned her around.

"Baby, it'll be great," he told her nudging her chin with his knuckle, "You'll see," he smiled.

"You're right," she agreed, "I guess I'm just..."

"What?" he took her hands in his, intertwining their fingers, "You can tell me, whatever it is."

She looked up from the bus floor and caught his eyes; they still made her weak in the knees.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"Of what? I'm here, you don't need to be scared."

"I know that Brendon," she assured him, but her eyes diverted to the bus floor again, "But I mean, this is my home now. When this is over I have no where-"

"Your place is with me," he cut her off, gently picking up her chin with his fingers and placing a soft kiss on her lips. She was quiet when they pulled away. It worried him.

"Unless," he paused, "You don't want that."

"No, no Brendon that's not it," She squeezed his hands, "I just, I don't want to hold you back or tie you down. This is your-"

"Hold me back?" He asked cutting her off again. He was surprised that she would think that was even possible, "How would you be holding me back?"

"I don't know just-"

"Stop," he whispered cutting her off a third time, "Just stop it okay? You're not holding me back or tying me down. I want this. I want you," he kissed her with a little more passion this time, placing his forehead against hers when it was through, "Okay?"

She nodded, "Okay," her voice was barely audible.

"God, get a room," Spencer joked as he brought his stuff back to the bunk area.

"We have a room, it's right here underneath you," Brendon laughed as Spencer threw his bag into the top bunk.

"Ah man," Spencer sighed, "You two better be quiet about things," he pointed an accusatory finger at both of them and raised an eyebrow. They both laughed.

Ryan squeezed passed Spencer and laid his bag on the bottom bunk across from Brendon and Aveline. Brendon knew he'd done it on purpose because Ryan always slept on the top bunk. He wanted to keep an eye on them and he could do that if he were directly across from them. Brendon didn't care, he had Aveline and that's all that mattered to him. He had managed to avoid physical contact with Ryan since the night Aveline caught them, and he wasn't planning on making any now or in the future. He loved her too much to hurt her like that again.

Ryan turned around, looking Brendon directly in the eyes, "Now," he said, "If you two are going to fuck, I'd appreciate if you'd use the lounge," he nodded toward the back of the bus, "Some of us don't want to be privy to that."

Brendon laughed, "I think I'll fuck her wherever I want."

"No, you wont," Ryan shot back, his eyes wide with something Aveline couldn't put her finger on.

"You might make the rules in the studio Ryan, but you don't make them on the bus," Brendon reminded him, "Come on," he pulled Aveline by her hand, through the small hallway and into the living area. He'd never been so angry with Ryan.

Who the hell did he think he was? He can't tell me what to do with my girlfriend.

Brendon bit his bottom lip as he stood staring out the front window of the bus. Chewing on his lip was a sign; he was anxious, nervous, or upset. Aveline couldn't tell which one he was. Brendon couldn't shake off Ryan's energy. It left a bad taste in his mouth, but it also left him pumped up, his body felt over heated, and he hadn't done anything. Brendon's hands balled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wanted to feel anything other than what Ryan was making him feel. Anger was turning into rage, and the worst part was he'd never wanted to get down on his knees and suck someone's cock so much as he wanted to suck Ryan's right now. He stormed off of the bus leaving Aveline to guess what the hell had just happened.