thirteen hours ✧ ryden

hour seven hundred and thirty

(730 hours equal about a month)

ryan tried to sleep, but thinking consumed his mind.

it was a horrible choice that he made. he shouldn't have left. he regrets leaving so much, and not because he liked his destination. far from it. nevada was beautiful at night, and no doubt wonderful if you're traveling through the strip. but in the morning, sin city doesn't have many main attractions, it's dull core starting to show. and ryan can live life without starting to sweat as soon as he takes a step outside. yeah, no.

what he really misses, is brendon.

brendon called ryan soon after they both got off the plane, and proceeded to do so throughout their mediocre visits to las vegas. it was evident that they loved each other's company, and often met up in cafés, shops, and other locations. ryan stayed for three and a half weeks more than he was supposed to, but it wasn't enough. they bid their goodbyes right before ryan had to leave.

ryan loved brendon. he knew it was a little too soon, but he couldn't control the fact that he fell hard and fast.

ryan was in love with brendon.

being without ryan, and vice versa, for four days was terrible. it was in that time that ryan realized that brendon took a piece of his heart before he left to go back to his home in new york.

as he lay in his oversized couch in his oversized house in his oversized sweats, he thought about brendon.

ryan has a big house. a really big one. spacious, beautiful, empty, lonely.

brendon thinks about ryan all the time. brendon missed his face, his smile, his skin, even his ridiculously long fingers.

that's why when brendon found out that ryan also lived in new york, having called him numerous times, he squealed and accidentally dropped his phone into the sink.

brendon found out ryan's address, nagging him over and over, saying stuff like, "just in case i visit new york".

and as ryan was on his big, maroon, l-shaped couch, thinking about brendon's smile, his adorable eyes, his toned stomach, he heard a knock.

the first time, he grunted.

the second time, he whispered,"let me sulk, goddamnit."

the third time,"fucking hell," he almost yells as he gets up to open the door.

and, okay.

breath. in, out. in, out. inoutinoutinout.

brendon urie is not in front of him right now, he's hallucinating.

but no, before he can pinch himself into an alternate reality, brendon tackles him in a hug, and ryan is still shook. because, wow. brendon is here, in his house. and he looks fucking gorgeous and ryan just wants to cuddle him up and never let go for hours.

so he does just that.

✺✺✺

300 fucking reads!!! oh my god thank you so much!!

i thought i would get a few reads at most, and this was just a short-chaptered ryden fic that i thought of randomly. i like this fic a lot though, im glad i wrote it :)

if you were wondering, when i was writing this i imagined ryan ross looking like he did when he was in the young veins, and brendon urie looking like he did when he was making and performing vices and virtues.
but, you can think they look like anything you want them to look like.

I HOPED YOU LIKED IT
i love u!