FEVERISH [RYDEN] [REPOST]

HOTEL ROOMS AND FLIP PHONE FALLACIES

"Bye."

Brendon wrapped his arms around her, rocking back and forth as she leaned her head into his shoulder.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine, Bren. I'll be fine."

Ryan stood, leaning against the bus, his toothpick in his mouth, gnawing on the edge nervously. He watched their goodbye, Spencer and Zach and Jon by his side, his head tilted slightly against the cool window, the corner of his scarf tickling his chin.

"You can come with u-"

"Bren. I'll be fine."

They broke away, both Brendon and Aliyah's eyes watering, and she sent a half nod to Ryan. He nodded back, sticking his hands in his pockets, and Spencer nudged him before sending a slight wave and leaning into Jon.

"You comin' to our show tonight?"

"I'll try. But I gotta figure this-" she gestured around aimlessly "out first."

"Okay. Here."

Brendon pulled his crew pass out of his pocket and handed it to her, the laminated plastic a boarding pass in her hand, her ticket to salvation.

She shot him a smile, soft, reassuring, a fresh mint smile, a warm honeysuckle glance.

"Do you have a plan?"

She turned, her eyes misty, her dress softly blowing in to the wind.

"I never do."

Spencer was growing restless, and Zach was starting to glance at his phone, a standard "hurry up" signal.

At this, Aliyah stepped towards Ryan, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"Keep him."

She pecked him on the cheek, touched Brendon on the shoulder and turned to walk down the road.

All good things must come to an end.

She did not look back.

Somehow, they all knew she wasn't coming to the show that night.

-!-

-!-

-!-

"Hold still, goddamnit!"

"Im try-"

"Brendon! Hold fucking still!"

Ryan's face was inches away, carefully applying the makeup, the cool face paint on the brushes pouring on his cheeks.

He leaned in, much to Ryan's displeasure, and kissed him, slow and deep, their lips soft on one another and Brendon's hands roaming.

"Fuck offfff-"

Ryan tried to breathe into Brendon's mouth that he had to sit back down, get ready, but alas, he was too hungry, and so he bent Brendon back over the chair, his hands trickling into Brendon's pants, his calloused fingertips toying with the waistband of Brendon's boxers.

"Do it, Ry, please."

"I gotta finish your makeup, baby."

"Ryan."

It came out whimpery and needy, causing Ryan to catch his breath.

"Hurry."

Ryan dipped his brush in the paint again, finishing Brendon's doll-like makeup. He tried his best to do it one-handed, his other hand tracing underneath Brendon's underwear, watching as he twitched and trembled, giving in to Ryan's touch.