FEVERISH [RYDEN] [REPOST]

A NEW FORM OF BLASPHEMY

"He's called a band meeting."

"I'm not going in."

"Jesus, Ryan, stop brooding. What's your problem?"

It was an unlikely face-off, Spencer and Ryan, head to head in the back of the bus.

"I don't wanna talk about i-"

"Band meeting."

Spencer seized his wrist and pulled him forward.

The last thing that George Ryan Ross III wanted was to have to look into Brendon Urie's deep brown eyes. Not after last night.

His shirt sleeve was still wet from tears.

Brendon was hysterical.

He kissed him to stop him from crying.

Yeah.

He, disgruntled and confused, was forced to sit down across from the boy.

Brent was picking a hangnail as he leaned against the side, his back pushed against the cold window and hard steel.

"We're about five minutes away from state lines."

"So why'd we stop?"

"I have to tell you all something."

Jesus.

Here it was.

I kissed Ryan last night. Actually, Ryan kissed me. Our mouths moved in a syncopated moment and he gripped my hips as I cried, touching me and comforting me with body. I slept with him on the couch, my back against his chest, his arms around my waist, but when I woke up, the spot under me was cold.

"I'm - I'm leaving the church."

Spencer gagged on his diet coke.

"You're whatting the what?"

"I'm - I'm leaving the-"

"Fuck! I'm so proud of you!"

Ryan, it was easy to say, let his guard down. He wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, lifting him up slightly. He could feel Brendon's heart against his own as he set him down, realizing.

Any touch could lead to brushing of the lips.

"Brendon! My man! I swear, this is great ne-"

Ryan tuned them out. A radio, scanning the stations.

101.4 - god, he's gorgeous. look at his eyes and his hips and

106.2 - don't you want to kiss him and touch him and run your hands down his sides until

94.3 - smile, polite. you are proud. you are calm

Ryan listened to the latter.

You are proud.

You are calm.

"It'll- It'll be hard. I need a place to stay, and it'll take ages. They have these records, you see-"

Ryan zoned out again.

What about that pretty girl on your livejournal? She's been hitting on you. You could take her ou-

"You can live with me, man. Don't worry."

Checkmate, Spencer.

Ryan had no idea that he didn't want him to stay with anyone else, and he didn't want to think that was jealousy. But, still. The idea. Brendon, in another man's room. Not man. Friend. Whatever. What-the-fucking-ever.