Title:Gingerbread house [11/11]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes:This is dedicated to my beta poprockbomber and everyone else who's read and commented! This is the last chapter and I really hope you've all enjoyed it immensely!

Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
Chapter Five.
Chapter Six.
Chapter Seven.
Chapter Eight.
Chapter Nine.
Chapter Ten.

Chapter Eleven.

Pete paces the kitchen quickly, stepping over Brendon’s unconscious body each time he does a lap.



“You know what I do with naughty boys Ryan?” Pete smiles wickedly down at Ryan, whose eyes are on Brendon. Ryan shakes his head slowly, a tear falling to the end of his nose. “I punish them. What do you think would be a good punishment?”

Ryan shakes his head again causing the tear to fall to his lap.



“Come on Ryan,” Pete snaps, his smile suddenly turned into a frown. He kicks Brendon slightly, enough to make Brendon give a slight groan. Ryan heart skips and he sighs in relief. “Play along. He’s still alive, for now anyway.”

Ryan’s eyes widen at Pete and he opens his mouth to protest. Pete crouches next to him and puts his finger to Ryan’s bottom lip.



“Now, Ryan,” Pete’s smile returns, happy that he has Ryan’s attention again. “Let’s not make this difficult. I’m sure if you cooperate then it’ll be fun for both of us.”

“Pete, don’t do this,” Ryan says carefully, his voice filled with fear. “It’s not too late to change it, really.”

Pete shakes his head viciously.

“Come with me,” Pete grabs onto Ryan’s arm and tries to pull him up; Ryan tries to pull away from Pete. Pete sends him a warning look. “Do you care about the well being of Brendon or not?”

Ryan closes his eyes and lets Pete pull him along into the living room.

“I want you on the sofa,” Pete says as he pushes Ryan onto it before he closes the curtains. Ryan looks up to the ceiling, trying to fight back the awful thoughts running through his head and the sound of Pete pacing the room. There above Ryan’s head a crack in the ceiling is forming, Ryan realizes and momentarily he forgets about the situation. Very momentarily. “Let’s not repeat our mistakes shall we, Ryan?”

Ryan shakes his head, another tear falling down his face. Pete grabs Ryan and flips him so that he lies face down on the sofa. Ryan feels Pete’s hand slide down his back and quickly pull away as his fingertips reach Ryan’s belt. Ryan exhales sharply. His tears get soaked into the cushion he lies face down on. Ryan feels a pair of hands on his wrists, fiddling with something.

“When I untie you I want you to call the police straight away,” a gruff voice sounds above me.

“Who…who are you?” Ryan stutters nervously, feeling the rope from his wrists loosen and he pulls his arms apart and pushes himself from the sofa to look at his saviour. A pair of brown eyes looks down at him and his heart skips and not in the good way. “Franklin.”

He nods his head and Ryan’s eyes divert from his. On the floor Pete lies on the small sofa, his legs flung over the end and his arms raised awkwardly above his head on the other arm.

“What have you done to him?” Ryan asks, rhetorically.

“Does it matter?” Franklin says sarcastically. “I thought I told you to call the police.”

Ryan nods and feels in his pockets for his mobile. Franklin shakes his head in impatience. He pulls out an iphone out his pocket and passes it to Ryan. Ryan looks at the iphone in his hand in amazement. What’s a guy like Franklin doing with a phone like that? Franklin shakes it in Ryan’s face after a few moments of Ryan staring at it. “Are you waiting for him to wake up or what?”



Ryan scrambles to his feet, grabbing the phone and dialing the number. Franklin disappears as the line begins to ring and he hears some rumbling in the kitchen. Ryan listens more closely to try and hear what’s happening and suddenly a voice sounds in his ear.

“Hello?” A way-too-chirpy lady asks, as if working at a police call-center was the best fun in the world.

“Oh hi, err,” Ryan begins, unsure of how to explain the situation. “We need some police to come over.”

“Why is that?” the lady sings.

“Well, this guy, our neighbour, err, knocked my boyfriend unconscious,” Ryan swallows, trying to keep composed on the phone, but his voice cracks a little while he needs to retell the story of what happened.

By the end of the story the lady insists that the police will be there in a few minutes and not to worry because Pete will get what he deserves. Ryan thanks her and hangs up. He wipes a few tears away from his cheeks and heads into the kitchen to see if Brendon’s okay.



Ryan’s heart swells as he sees Brendon sat up on the floor, leaning against the door, awake as Franklin examines him.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Franklin asks, sympathetically. Brendon nods his head weakly and he spots Ryan out the corner of his eye.

“Ryan!” he whispers excitedly. “You’re okay!”

Ryan smiles widely and walks over to sit next to Brendon, placing a kiss on the side of his face. Brendon smiles happily up at Ryan, his eyes half closed since he hasn’t completely recovered from the blow to the head.

The street outside is filled with the sound of approaching police cars with their alarms on. Franklin rises to his feet and heads down the hall to open the door. Once Franklin is out of earshot Brendon raises his head a little to look Ryan directly in the eyes. His eyebrows fold in confusion.

“Since when has Franklin been a good guy?”



-



A couple hours later and Brendon and Ryan find themselves being questioned at the hospital after being checked over for injuries. They ask about what happened, how it all came about and the notes. The detectives shake their heads as they answer each question.

“They should have arrested Pete as soon as the notes were found in the house,” the female detective scolds the other detective.

“No one knew it was Pete!” Ryan tries to justify after everything that’s happened. Despite it probably being the worst time he’s ever had in his life, he still doesn’t want to admit that the fact that it was Pete all along was obvious.

Detective Johnson looks cynically at her colleague Detective Simmons.

“Detective Houston had been stationed there some time before the actual incident happened,” Detective Johnson tries to explain.

“Who is Detective Houston?” Brendon asks, his eyebrows knitted together as he speaks.

“Franklin,” Detective Simmons butts in. “I believe that was his cover name.”

Ryan and Brendon look at each other, both searching for answers from the others face.

“Franklin?” Ryan blurts out. “He’s a detective?”

“Yes,” Johnson nods. “We had him posted there after we had suspicions of Mr. Wentz being a key part in the disappearances of many people. They didn’t necessarily have experiences such as yourselves. Up until now we’ve had no solid proof to arrest him over and so we had Detective Houston living uncover there to watch Mr. Wentz.”

Brendon scoffs.

“He spent most his fucking time staring at us!”



-



Two week later the boys sat in their living room, watching television, sex and the city to be more precise. Ryan looks over to Franklin’s old house, a for sale sign stuck in the middle of the front garden, which mirrored their own proud for sale sign.

“I’m going to miss this house,” Ryan sighs, squeezing Brendon’s knee to get his attention.

“Why?” Brendon pulls a face and looks towards the ceiling, where a new crack has formed. “It’s falling apart.”

Ryan eyes the same crack nervously, it seems to have got wider and wider each day since the whole Pete encounter, who is know, thankfully, still in prison until his trial.



“Because we have the best neighbours?” Brendon adds after Ryan doesn’t answer for a few moments. Ryan shakes his head, listening carefully for the groans and moans of the house.

“Maybe it wasn’t the best first house ever,” Ryan sighs, his eyes finally breaking contact with the crack and he snuggles into Brendon’s legs. “But it could have been worse.”

As if sensing Ryan’s reluctance to hate the house, it’s at this point that a huge chunk of plaster falls from the ceiling. Their eyes open in shock at the chunk and slowly their eyes raise to the crack in the ceiling, when another chunk falls, followed quickly by another, then another, until there’s a small hole between the living room and bedroom. Except it doesn’t stop there, a large piece of ceiling falls to the floor, the vibrations of the crack causing the mirror to fall off the wall and smash. Another piece falls and Brendon jumps up and pulls Ryan off the sofa.

“Come on,” Brendon pulls him through the door, into the hall, where the broken banister vibrates violently from the huge pieces of ceiling falling in the next room along. Brendon’s arm reaches out to the front door and he and Ryan run out to watch the living room through the window.



All that can be seen is a cloud of dust and they stand there, their hearts racing, waiting for the dust and smoke to clear to show that it’s safe to enter again. Eventually the noise of crashing fades and the dust cloud begins to settle. Brendon sighs and pulls out his phone.

“Is this a job for the people who sold us the house or not?” Brendon asks as he dials the number. Ryan shrugs his shoulders, a small frown on his face as he thinks in his mind that the house in front of him must be the single worse house in the world.



“Yeah, it all just started caving in,” Brendon shouts into the phone and he hears a huge crash behind him, as though there was a car pile-up behind him. He hears Ryan scream and he turns around slowly. “Forget a new roof, maybe a new house is in order.”



Brendon hangs up the phone and takes a few steps forwards to put his arms around Ryan, to comfort him. There, in front of him, where the house once stood clean, beautiful and proud, stood a house with a whole quarter of it missing.



“I take it back Ryan,” Brendon whispers sarcastically into Ryan’s ear. “I think I need more in a house than just you. A roof might be nice.”

Title:Gingerbread house [10/?]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes:This is dedicated to my beta poprockbomber. I think it's only going to be one or two more chapters babes!

Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
Chapter Five.
Chapter Six.
Chapter Seven.
Chapter Eight.
Chapter Nine.

Chapter Ten.
Brendon waits nervously as he rings Ryan the tenth time in the space of five minutes, hoping that this time it won’t go to voice mail.

“Hiii it’s Ryan,” Ryan’s answer phone shouts. “If you’re not getting through my phone is probably dead, or on silent or it’s like in my bag somewhere. Err, leave a message and I’ll see if I can be bothered getting back to you, so better make it good!”



Then a beep and silence. Brendon hangs up and throws his phone on his desk with some force. The case he’s been working on got resolved and so he was calling Ryan to see if he wanted to do something and if he didn’t he’d stay at work and do some paper work on another upcoming case. He decides he’ll call one more time and if Ryan doesn’t answer he’ll go back home to check on him, just to make sure he’s alright.



This time when he calls it goes straight to the answering machine and he knows the phones been switched off and he grabs his keys and rushes out the building.



-



Ryan wakes, fuzzy-headed and confused.

“Was I…” Ryan mumbles, seeing the oven in front of him as his vision focuses a little more. “…dreaming?”

He looks from side to side, confused as to why he’s in the kitchen. He pushes his hands down behind him trying to get up, then he realizes his hands are tied. He shakes his head trying to wake up but all his body seems to want to do is go back to sleep again. He lethargically wiggles his hands weakly to see if he can escape his ties.



He hears vibrations nearby and he recognizes it as his phone, which he locates a couple meters from him, half in the hall, half in the kitchen. He decides that maybe if he slides across the floor he can answer the phone and get help. He jumps a little on his bum, he doesn’t get very far. Even from the small exertion of strength he’s completely worn out and he begins to get the feeling of blood pumping in his head. Nevertheless, Ryan attempts to slide a little more across the floor as the phone begins to vibrate again. He takes a moment stop himself from throwing up and the phone stops ringing. He sighs and jumps a little again as the phone begins to vibrate again. This time Ryan falls to the side, hitting his chest awkwardly, causing him to moan as the wind gets knocked out his lungs. He hears movement in a different room and he whispers a prayer to himself that Pete didn’t hear him.



Unfortunately, Pete turns up in the kitchen a moment later, which a displeased frown on his face.

“Well, look who’s awake,” he says plainly, no emotion in his voice.

“Pete,” Ryan swallows, trying to prop himself up with his elbow. “Let me go.”

Pete shakes his head, a small smile coming to his face.

“I can’t do that, you know that Ryan,” the smile becomes wider with each word. He bends down to face Ryan and helps him sit back straight. He scans Ryan’s face slowly, his eyes lingering on his lips. Pete’s hand reaches up to touch Ryan’s lips softly, as if discovering them for the first time. He runs his thumb over the bottom lip and slowly begins to lean in when the phone begins to vibrate again. “Ryan honey, who’s trying to call you?”

Ryan shakes his head, unable to speak. His eyes grow wide as Pete picks up the phone and looks at the caller ID.

“Oh,” Pete smirks. “Well, isn’t it your dear boyfriend?”

The phone stops vibrating in his hand and he holds down the power off button, glancing into Ryan’s scared eyes as he does.

“We don’t want him to interrupt us do we?”



-



The red light stares at Brendon in the face. He taps impatiently on the steering wheel, eager to see Ryan again. Normally Ryan not answering wouldn’t bother him, but with all the crazy things going on in the house he would rather be safe than sorry.



Jesus, Brendon thinks to himself, turning the music up slightly as he does to block out bleak thoughts. Stop being so fucking paranoid.



The lights begin to change and Brendon speeds past them the minute he sees the green light come on. It doesn’t take him long from there to get to the house and he pulls up to the driveway, looking around to see if anything on the street was different or odd. He jumps out the car, slamming the door car door behind him as he strides to the door and lets himself in.



“Ryan?” he calls out and he gets no reply. He looks in the living room quickly, where he sees two glasses of wine. “Ryan!?”



Why are there two glasses? Brendon wonders and he fights back the thoughts of the possibility of Ryan cheating on him. Just to be safe though, Brendon quietly climbs the stairs, hoping that the floor boards don’t creak. He opens the bedroom door, there’s no one. He checks in the bathroom, there’s no one.



“Ryan?” he opens the door to the guest bedroom, where there’s nothing out the ordinary. He closes the door, confused about where Ryan could be, when he hears a noise downstairs. “Hey Ryan! Where are you? I came home early because the case…”



-



Ryan holds his breath while Pete begins to lean in again. He closes his eyes, praying that this is a dream, or that it’s a practical joke, or that someone will come and save him.



“Don’t be scared,” Pete whispers next to Ryan’s ear. “It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”



Ryan shakes his head, a tear seeping out the corner of his eye.

“Please…” Ryan’s voice is weak and shaky. “Don’t do this.”

Pete laughs and grabs onto Ryan’s chin to hold it still. He kisses Ryan’s cheek, then kisses it again, getting closer and closer to Ryan’s mouth with each kiss.

“Pete...” Ryan tries to pull away from Pete. “I won’t tell anyone, really.”

Pete’s grip on Ryan’s chin tightens and he turns it so his lips hover over Ryan’s.

“Even if you didn’t, I still wouldn’t be getting what I want would I?” he whispers before pushing his lips softly into Ryan’s, savoring each moment. He pulls away and looks into Ryan’s eyes lustfully before letting go of Ryan’s face and standing up. “I know you can do better than that.”



Ryan closes his eyes and lets another tear fall. Pete’s hands move to his belt buck above him and Ryan bites his lip hoping that someone will come to stop this from happening. It’s then that he hears a car in the drive way and the slam of a car door. Pete hears it to, he stops mid-action to listen more carefully. He looks at the door and sees a shadow approaching it. He looks downs from the door, to Ryan and then back to the door. Then he grabs onto Ryan and pulls him into the corner of the kitchen, out of sight from the doorway. Ryan tries his best to protest but Pete holds his hand over his mouth and forces Ryan to stay still.



The sound of the door opening and Brendon’s request for Ryan fills their ears in the next few moments. Ryan tries to call out but Pete makes him keep his mouth shut.



“Ryan?” Brendon’s voice calls out. After a brief silence the sound of Brendon’s footstep on the stairs can be heard.



“You better keep quiet Ryan,” Pete warns. Ryan’s looks at Pete, full of fear. “Can I trust you to not make a sound when I take my hand off?”



Ryan nods slowly against Pete’s hand and he releases his grip on Ryan’s face, he holds a finger against his lips for Ryan to be quiet as he stands up and looks out into the hall. He takes a step into the hall and then another. With each step looking further and further up the stairs. Under Pete’s feet the floor creaks and Pete stops dead in his tracks. He hears Brendon coming back down the hall toward the stairs.



“…home early because the case got resolved. Pretty cool, huh?” Brendon says to no one specific. Pete quickly jogs into the kitchen, hoping not to be caught by Brendon. He looks around for something to hit him with, the first thing his eyes land on is the kettle and that’s when he makes some quick decisions.



“Bren?” Pete says, trying his best to mimic Ryan. Ryan moans in protest of it, he tries to speak out to warn Brendon but his voice has gone.



“Ryan?” Ryan sees the top of Brendon’s head approach the kitchen and he screams when Pete swings the kettle and it hits Brendon right on the back of the head and he collapses on the kitchen floor.

Pete looks at the limp body and then looks over at Ryan who sits worried in the corner, trying to slide on his bum over to see if Brendon’s still alive.

“I told you to be quiet.”

Title:Gingerbread house [9/?]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes:This is dedicated to my beta poprockbomber. So I think most of you guess it, I hope it's all happening to your satisfaction bbz!

Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
Chapter Five.
Chapter Six.
Chapter Seven.
Chapter Eight.

Chapter Nine.

“Brendon, I’m calling the police,” Ryan declares while Brendon reads the post-it for the hundredth time since they discovered it twenty minutes ago. Brendon shakes his head nervously and pulls out his mobile.

“I’ll call.”

Ryan nods and cleans the glass from the stairs while Brendon explains the situation to a stranger on the phone. Once most the glass is in the bin, Ryan goes through to the living room, staring across the road at Franklin’s house, where there’s no lights on, there’s no shadow in the window, no sign of life.


Brendon wraps his arms around Ryan’s waist and kisses the side of his neck.

“Don’t worry Ry,” Brendon whispers in his ear. “It’s going to be alright, they said they’d be here soon.”

Ryan hums in reply, his gaze locked on the house.

“Why is he targeting me?” Ryan asks, not really looking for a real answer. He laces his fingers through Brendon’s which are currently resting on his stomach.

“Maybe because you talk to yourself,” Brendon mutters against Ryan’s neck, which makes Ryan giggle and flinch slightly.

“That tickles!” Ryan’s previously solemn face breaks into a smile and he turns his head to look into his lover’s. Brendon’s face creases up in a smile and he leans forward to place a kiss on Ryan’s lips. The kiss lingers for a few seconds before they pull back and spend a moment looking lovingly into each other’s eyes.

“I do love you Brendon,” Ryan beams while Brendon maintains that beautiful smile of his. Brendon pulls a disgusted look at Ryan.

“Ew, that’s just so…so…” Brendon suppresses a grin as he searches for the right word to end the sentence with. “Gay.”

Ryan shakes his head at Brendon, a wide smile on his face as he laughs hysterically to himself.

“Ew, I’m not gay!” Ryan tries his best to frown but fails and pinches Brendon’s stomach repeatedly.

“Ryan! Ryan!” Brendon tries not to scream through giggles. “Stop it! Stop it! It…hurts!”

Brendon continues to laugh even when the doorbell rings. Ryan stops pinching Brendon and signals for him to go answer the door. Ryan hears the door open and a short conversation at the door and a few moments later Brendon comes back to the living room accompanied by two police men. When Ryan sees them his smile quickly fades. Until they came he’d almost forgotten about Franklin and his creeper ways.



“So I understand, Mr Ross, that there’s been a series of notes found around your house making you believe that you’re being stalked?” one policeman asks Ryan, the policeman is reasonably chubby, especially compared to his far skinnier colleague.

Ryan nods his head; unsure of weather he should tell them his suspicions of it being Franklin.

“Tell us more about these notes,” the second policeman pulls a notepad out of his pocket. “Like, what did they say; any ideas who could be sending them?”

Ryan swallows, preparing himself to answer their question but he’s beat to the post by Brendon who angrily begins to explain the whole situation.

“The fucker stands in his window staring at us,” Brendon spits. “It’s him, definitely him.”

“Do you have any solid proof of it being him?”

Brendon snorts. “He fucking stares at us all the time! He followed us in the street!”

The policemen look at each other and one of them sighs.

“We’ll go have a word with him, but without hard evidence we can’t make an arrest.”

“What the fuck? He’s breaking into our house and leaving fucking creepy notes in the house!” Brendon growls.

“Sorry Mr Urie, but there’s really nothing we can do.”

Brendon opens his mouth, searching for words to make the policemen comprehend the situation better but Ryan steps in at this moment.

“Sorry, you need to understand this is all a little bit scary,” Ryan says, trying to keep his voice steady. “If you could at least ask Franklin about it that would be…good.”

The chubby police man looks sympathetically at Ryan and promises him that they’ll go over to Franklin’s house straight away. Then Ryan let them out and watched them cross the street, conversing with each other.

“Brendon?” Ryan called from the door and Brendon walks sheepishly into the hall.

“I’m sorry Ryan,” Brendon stood in front of Ryan, looking like a dog with its tails between its legs. “I just can’t stand the thought of this freak being in our house.”

Ryan smiles softly at him and closes the distance between them, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m not mad Brendon,” Ryan smirks. “I love it when you get angry. It’s sexy”



-



Ryan gets a call the next day from Brendon who’s gone into work, despite wanting to stay home to be macho man and protect Ryan. Ryan insisted he’d be fine, although in his mind he wished Brendon would still stay home.



“Ryan, I got a call from the police,” Brendon says plainly, sounding strange to Ryan. “Franklin wasn’t home yesterday, they did manage to call him and he’s in Chicago for a couple days…there’s no way it could have been him. He has an alibi and everything.”

Ryan swallows on the other end, speechless.

“But…” Ryan mutters; his mind racing with possibilities.

“I know, just, be careful at home, if it gets creepy call me,” Brendon says, obviously distracted. “Look, I need to go Ry. I just thought you should know.”

Ryan nods, aware that Brendon can’t see him and Brendon hangs up, the sound of a deadline ringing in his ear. He lowers the phone slowly.

“Who can it be?” Ryan whispers to himself. He slides his phone into his pocket and collapses onto the sofa. “What’s going on in this fucking house?”

Ryan exhales as he rubs his hands over his eyes. His eyes feel hot and itchy; a tear threatens to fall at the corner of his eye. Ryan goes to get some tissue from the bathroom upstairs, afraid that he’ll cry and therefore his nose will get runny and he just ends up looking a mess. He blows his nose, staring into the mirror, disgusted by his reflection. His hair is sticking up in all directions and his cheeks are pink and blotchy. Shitfaced is probably a word he would use.

“Shitface,” Ryan mumbles to his reflection before throwing the tissue into the toilet and he flushes it. He walks down the stairs, ready to collapse on the sofa again, cuddle up into his blanket and watch some sex and the city repeats. As he falls into the sofa he feels something under him and he sluggishly fumbles under his bum to grab an envelop. Ryan pulls a card from out the envelop.

Maybe try a little closer to home, Ryan.

“What? Like Brendon?” Ryan lifts an eyebrow, fed up with the creepy notes, fed up with Franklin and fed up of the house not being what he wanted. His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. Ryan slowly makes his way to the door and opens it to Pete’s smiling face.

“Hey Ryan,” Pete says jollily. “So, why were the police at your house yesterday?”

Ryan laughs and shakes his head, letting Pete into the house.

“You’re such a gossip,” Ryan slaps Pete’s back and takes him into the living room. “So do you want a drink?”

“Yes sure,” Pete laughs. “What do you have?”

Ryan scratches the top of his head, trying to remember what they actually did have.

“Err, coffee…” Ryan pulls a mock face of concentration. “And Wine?”

Pete nods his head enthusiastically.

“Oh one minute, I’ll get it for you in a minute,” Ryan holds his index finger up to signal that he’d be busy for a moment. “I just need to tidy things up a little in there.”

He points to the living room, remembering the blanket and envelop and the dishes from a couple days food, as gross as that is.

“Why don’t I get the wine, while you do whatever you need to do in there?” Pete winks and walks into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine from the corner of the kitchen counter.

“Glasses are in the cupboard above there,” Ryan explains, not giving any more description than that. He just assumes Pete will know where he means. He goes into the living room and folds up the blanket, then throws it to the end of the sofa and he stuffs the envelop into his back pocket. As he collects the dishes and glasses from the coffee table, Pete turns up with two full glasses of wine. He holds one out for Ryan.

“Thank you Peter,” Ryan smiles, putting down the two plates in his hand and taking the glass from Pete.

“No problem babes,” Pete smirks and falls back onto the sofa. “Its fancy wine this.”

“It was a housewarming present, I believe.”

Pete nods and takes a sip, while Ryan downs half the glass.

“I’ll just take these into the kitchen,” Ryan bends down to pick up a glass from the floor and the two dishes he put down before. When he straightens up he stumbles a little and shakes his head as if it would help his balance. “Shit, that was an epic head rush.”

Pete laughs and Ryan goes through to the kitchen and puts his cargo into the sink. Suddenly Ryan gets another rush of blood to his head and he leans forward onto the sink, feeling nauseous.

“Ryan, are you okay?” Pete’s concerned voice comes from the living room, probably having heard Ryan’s soft groan as he leant over.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Ryan reassures Pete as well as himself and he turns around, leaning back on the counter to keep his balance. It’s then that he notices writing on the kitchen cupboards.

You shouldn’t have called the police, Ryan.

“Pete?” Ryan says weakly, barely above a whisper feeling even worse than he did a few moments ago. He begins to pull out his phone to call Brendon but his phone falls out of his hand, his hand not strong enough to keep on hold of it.

“Ryan, are you okay?” Ryan turns his head to where the voice is coming from. The kitchen doorway, where Pete stands leaning against the door frame, looking smug.

Title:Follow the rules and keep it cool. [Prologue]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:PG-13 to R I would say.
Pairing:Nothing yet, but you know it'll turn into Ryden.
POV:Brendon's.
Summary:When I’m close enough to strike up a conversation with him I lean on the bar next to him and I order an apple martini, and then wait for him to show an interest in me.
Rule One: Don’t be an eager beaver.
Disclaimer:I probably don't even own the plot etc etc.
Author Notes: I'm writing to take my mind off somethings that are going down right now, so like tell me what you think! Enjoy.

Prolouge.

“Follow the rules and keep it cool,” Jon winks at me as I scan the dance floor for potentials. I roll my eyes.
“Please Jon, I invented the rules,” I scoff as I see a cute boy standing further down the bar from us. The white shirt he wears clings to his arms just enough to show off his muscles and his black jeans emphasis his ass. I nod my head subtly towards him. “He’s gay, is he not?”
“Clearly,” Jon laughs, as though my question was completely ludicrous. I smile and push myself off the bar. As I step closer to the boy I realise how stupid my question was. His hair neatly falls across his forehead and he looks arrogantly around, his gaze lingering on a boy a few seconds longer than a straight man’s gaze should.

When I’m close enough to strike up a conversation with him I lean on the bar next to him and I order an apple martini, and then wait for him to show an interest in me.

Rule One: Don’t be an eager beaver.

I drink my martini, leaning against the bar, looking out over the crowd. I lean back onto one elbow, the elbow on the side of the cute boy. That way I look open and friendly. I take a sip of my drink and out of the corner of my eye I see the cute boy scan my face as I drink. I lower my glass and I smile smugly to myself.

“Can I help you?” I ask, trying to sound innocent. I turn my body to face the boy, placing my drink on the bar top. The boy grins and looks me up and down quickly and shakes his head slowly.

I pretend to pout and lean in closer to his ear so he can almost feel the heat of the boys face radiate to his.
“Maybe you can help me?” I say loud enough to be heard over the music.
“Oh yeah?” the boys deep voice seems to vibrate through the bar.
“What’s your name?”
“Michael,” he turns to face mine, too close for first the first five minutes of knowing someone. “What about you, boy?”
“Brendon,” I say. I don’t move my face from my original position and he doesn’t move his. My eyes move from looking at his lips to his eyes and then his hair. “So, are you here all on your own?”
“No…” Michael nods towards the crowd, as if I’m meant to locate his friends in the crowded dance floor. “So do you want to go out for a cigarette or something?”
I nod and I follow him closely to the smoking area outside the club.

Michael holds out a cigarette cartoon, waiting for me too take one. I politely decline.

Rule Two: Don’t lower your standards for anyone.

“So agree to come and smoke with me,” Michael laughs as he flips open the lip of his Zippo lighter and he holds his cigarette up to the flame. He inhales and blows out the first drag after a second or two of savouring the feeling of smoke in his lungs. “Without actually smoking with me?”

I shrug my shoulders and laugh. Michael takes another drag, eyeing up me through the smoke he exhales. I guess he thought he was being subtle.
“So, are you here on your own?” Michael asks, his eyes not moving from my face.
“No, I’m with my…” I blow some of the cigarette smoke out my face. I am definitely not a fan of smoking. “My Jon.”
“Your Jon?” he asks me. He leans against the wall behind. The tone of his voice and body language suggests that he’s disappointed and yet his eyes don’t wander from mine.
“He’s my best friend,” I pretend to check my watch. “Which reminds me, I’ve left him in there alone, and I should probably…”
Michael grabs on hold of my arm as I begin to walk away from him.
“You should probably what?” he smirks, pull on my arm so I stand opposite him. He throws his cigarette on the floor and puts his now available hand on my lower back, pulling me closer to him.
I put my hand over his on my back and I lean forward to kiss him. I tilt my head to the left and he goes to the right and our lips come together. My eyes close and I feel his mouth slowly open as we enjoy a closed mouth kiss. He lets go of my arm and I swing both my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. His other free hand moves to my lower back and he pulls my hips in toward him. His tongue brushes softly against my lip and my tongue meets it in the middle and he playfully and gently begins to touch his tongue with mine.

Then he pulls away.
“So any chance you can blow off your Jon for me?” he smirks as I pull his face back to mine, wanting more of him.

-

I find myself alone on Michael’s sofa half an hour later. My top has disappeared somewhere in the room. He’s gone to find some supplies in his bedroom. A couple moments later he returns with a condom and lube and I see him pull down his pants to reveal his cock, which is definitely nothing to complain about.
“I can do that for you, you know,” I lean across the sofa to his and I take his dick into my hand. I pump it a couple times, causing him to moan. I smirk to myself as I lean further across, lowering my head to take in the head of his cock. I run my tongue along the slit, while messaging the base of his dick and Michael moans above me, egging me on. I lower my head further, taking in more of him, savouring every inch of him. I hallow my cheeks and I hear a groan above me and I’m really getting into it, when I feel it. I feel hot breath on my back and I take my head from him and I turn around and quickly get to my feet.
“Is that, your dog…?” I ask, as if puzzled by the strange mammal staring up at me.

Rule Three: Never get animals involved.

Title:Gingerbread house [8/?]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes: Hey bbz, hope you like it. This is dedicated to my beta poprockbomber, as always because she's swell! Enjoy!

Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
Chapter Five.
Chapter Six.
Chapter Seven.

Chapter Eight.

The next day Ryan wakes up on the sofa, he looks at the clock. It’s 1pm.

“That’s more like it,” Ryan yawns and stretches on the sofa, thinking about the previous morning. He exhales loudly as he sits up and rubs his eyes. “Now, what to do, Ryan?”



He stands up, checking himself out in the mirror. His hair is tussled from sex and sleeping and his skin is slightly pink and blotchy from where his face had been on the sofa. He yawns one more time and begins to climb the stairs to go to the bathroom. During Ryan’s empty days he’s going to be sorting pictures to line the stairs with in cute, yet elegant, wooden frames. He’s going to make this house their home. Ryan reaches the top of the stairs and turns down the hall to take a few paces to the bathroom. As soon as he’s in, he goes to the sink and he splashes water on his face. He straightens up, turning to the mirror to give himself one final look before a shower. Except when he looks in the mirror he doesn’t see a reflection of himself, he sees large black letters scrawled across the mirror. He takes a step back, gasping at the shock. His eyes look over it again and again, each time the words become more terrible. He knows who did it. He pulls out his phone and dials the number.



“Brendon?” Ryan almost shouts when he hears Brendon’s confused voice on the other end, Ryan never calls him at work. Ryan’s voice breaks, a tear coming to his eye. “Brendon…can you come home? He’s…he’s been in the house.”



-



Brendon sits on the end of the bath, reading the message, just like Ryan had a little while before.

“Fuck Ryan, this is creepy,” Brendon mumbles nervously, stating the obvious.

Ryan nods silently.



I saw you last night and I’m not happy Ryan.



That’s what it says, personally addressed to Ryan. He knows his name.

“You know it’s Franklin,” Ryan sniffs, still trying to get over the shock of finding this in his own house.

“Of course I fucking do!” Brendon says angrily. “What should we do?”

Ryan shrugs, he was sitting on the bathroom floor leaning against the door, playing with the bottom of his jeans.

“Maybe we should go to the police…” Ryan suggests finally. “Like, you know, tell them what’s going on.”

“No, I don’t think we should.”

Ryan’s eyes open wide at Brendon.

“Brendon, he was in our house!” Ryan lifts his arms for dramatic effect.

“I know Ryan, I just have a bad feeling about getting the police involved,” Brendon sighs and he slides off the edge of the bath to sit next to Ryan. He puts his arm over his shoulders and kisses the side of his head. “Really Ryan, we’ll sort this out ourselves.”

Ryan smiles weakly and kisses the corner of Brendon’s mouth.

“If that’s what you want.”



-



Brendon insisted on staying home a little long from work, as if Franklin was going to come over and kill Ryan. They ended up watching reruns of the OC.



“I don’t see how I didn’t see Marissa being a lesbian before you know,” Ryan winces as Marissa makes out with her girlfriend. “I’m still waiting for Seth to come out.”

“Why?” Brendon screws up his eyebrows.

“Because I’d fuck him.”

“Ryan!” Brendon pouts. “So what, you like him better than me?”

“Well, yeah I thought you knew that,” Ryan tries his best to keep a straight face while he teases Brendon. “I’m just passing the time with you.”

Brendon laughs and kisses Ryan’s smiling lips.

“You’re such a clown.”

Brendon’s hand slides further down Ryan’s waist and Ryan laces his fingers with Brendon’s. Ryan is leaning against Brendon on the sofa, the green blanket over his legs.

“And you love it, right?” Ryan squints at Brendon in an attempt to intimidate him. Brendon squints back and he frowns playfully at him.

“Not at all.”

Ryan pouts and Brendon goes down to kiss him but Ryan pulls away.

“Wow now, only Seth gets that honour now.”

Brendon gets out from under Ryan and stretches by pulling his arms about his head. “Alright well have fun with Seth, I’m going.”

Ryan stands up next to Brendon and tickles his arm pits, causing Brendon to quickly pull his arms down and smiles at Ryan.

“I was only joking,” Ryan wraps his arm Brendon’s waist and dramatically kisses the side of his face.

“I know, but I really need to go to work, we’re working on a big case at the moment,” Brendon goes off on one about a case he’s in the middle of doing and Ryan’s eyes glaze over. “Okay, so I’m going now, I’ll see you.”



Once Brendon pulls out of the driveway, Ryan sighs. He’s alone again.

“So…” he says to himself. “Maybe we can get started on sorting out those photos.”



-



Ryan takes a step back from the wall where he’d just hung a photo. He had finally managed to get it straight and in line with the other photos he had put up on the stairs already. This one was of him and Brendon pulling funny a stupid faces at the beach, it was their first proper “outing” as a couple.



Since he was happy with how the picture looked he stepped down a couple steps, getting in position to hang the next photo. Before he was about to hammer the nail into the wall, the doorbell rings. He sighs and puts the hammer on the floor to go answer the door, however, when he opens the door, there’s no one on the doorstep. Again.

“Fucking kids,” Ryan curses and gets back onto the steps and hits the nail into where looks approximately right to Ryan. Due to the annoyance of knock-a-door-runners, Ryan doesn’t care so much about it being perfect, he just wants to get it over with. He lifts the picture frame to the nail but drops it when he sees the picture, or rather the post-it note stuck to the glass of the photo frame. He looks up and down the stairs and backs away from the wall. He takes a step too many and he trips into the banister, which gives a crack. Ryan gasps as the banister continues to crack and screams when he goes crashing through it to the floor below.



-



Brendon pulls into the driveway and he sees Ryan standing in the bedroom upstairs. He smiles, preparing a fun plan of action into Ryan’s pants. He puts the keys in the door. And then he hears a crack, a scream and a crash. Brendon opens the door quickly and he sees Ryan lying in the hall amongst the broken pieces of the banister.

“Ryan?” Brendon says nervously, scared of what Ryan might reply, or rather not reply.

“Bren,” Ryan says, in a daze, lifting his head from the floor and looking around for Brendon. “There’s…been another note."

Brendon rushes toward Ryan to help him sit up.

“Be careful,” Brendon whispers. “Where is it?”

Ryan points to the broken photo frame, which Brendon picks up and pulls the post-it off.



You know, Ryan, talking to yourself is a sign of craziness.

Title:Gingerbread house [7/?]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes: This chapter is dedicated to poprockbomber for beta-ing, if that's even a word. I hope I haven't lost it bbz! I'm totally posting this from a library man, the girl next to me keeps looking at me as if I'm strange, I don't know why she would think that.

Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
Chapter Five.
Chapter Six.

Chapter Seven.

The knock on the door wakes Ryan up, he checks his watch. It’s nine AM so Brendon will have gone to work already. Ryan groans, grabbing for Brendon’s pants from last night, since they were the most accessible item of clothing. He climbs down the stairs sleepily, bumping into the wall a few times in the process of getting downstairs. There’s no shadow behind the front door window but Ryan decides to open the door anyway. The doorstep is empty and Ryan curses under his breath.

“Fucking kids,” he angrily pushes the door shut and stomps to the kitchen. “I need some fucking coffee.”



Ryan flicks the switch of the kettle, holding his hands over his eyes to protect them from the bright sun rays coming through the window. Ryan groans as the kettle clicks and he pours it into his instant coffee into a purple mug. A gay purple mug at that, literally, he got it from the gay pride parade. His cold hands wrap around the warm mug and he sighed. He’s not hung over but Ryan is definitely not a morning person. He walks through the dining room, looking outside to Pete’s garden next door; rising from the fence is the top of the sarcophagus, and the skeleton, which seems to be waving jollily at him, smiling broadly through the cobwebs. Ryan stumbles into the living room, brushing the hair out his eyes and taking a sip of his coffee. He lowers the mug from his face, his gaze landing on the house across the street.



“Fucking weirdo,” Ryan mutters. He looks up to the clock, which reads quarter past nine. “Fucker. What am I meant to do now?”

Ryan really isn’t a morning person. He takes another couple gulps of coffee before deciding it was too cold and pouring it away and washing the mug out. Then, Ryan goes to sit on a beanbag in the middle of the living room and stares across to Franklin’s house.

“Fucker.”



-



It’s this day that their furniture decides to arrive. Brendon comes home to see a large van outside the house and a gang of thugs carrying tables and carpets into the house. When he finally fights his way from the bottom of the driveway and into the house, he’s greeted by two burly men trying to fit a sofa through the narrow doorway of the living room, whilst Ryan stands next to the door asking them to be careful every two seconds.

“Ryan honey, I’m home,” Brendon tries to get Ryan’s attention.

“Brendon!” Ryan smiles excitedly. “Our furniture’s here!”

“For real?” Brendon rolls his eyes. “I thought there men were in fact stealing the sofa from out of our bountiful living room.”

Ryan pouts at Brendon’s sarcastic excitement and Brendon squeezes around the sofa, which is slowing being let through by the door frame, and gives Ryan a quick peck on the cheek.

“You should see what they have outside,” Brendon wiggles his eyebrows in what Ryan takes to be his attempt at seducing him. “It’s a huge bed! Like real big! It looks really nice! And a new mattress!”

At this point the sofa chooses to slide through the door quickly; luckily no damage appeared to have been made to the door. Ryan follows the sofa through the door and looks around the room, there’s a big sofa (which was the one thing that had just been put in), a matching, smaller sofa. The dark brown leather matching the legs connected to the glass top of a coffee table which has been placed onto a beige carpet. Ryan turns his head to look into what they planned to be the dining room and there’s a dark wooden table and four dark leather covered chairs. At some point Brendon entered the room and Ryan feels Brendon’s hand slip inside his.

“It looks great,” Ryan grins to him self. “Who ever chose the furniture must have been a genius.”

Brendon rolls his eyes as Ryan suppresses a squeal as one of the workers brings though what he recognizes as curtains.

“Brendon! Curtains!”

Brendon kisses Ryan’s cheek and points across the street to Franklin’s house.

“Now we can have sex in here without the pervert seeing us.”

Ryan laughs and one of the workmen give them a disgusted look. Brendon chuckles.

“Maybe later, when you know, we’re more alone. Maybe I can feel your cock inside me, oh yeah,” Brendon teases the workman, who screws up his face and shudders before leaving to bring more stuff in. Ryan gives Brendon a warning look, to which Brendon raises his arms defensively. “What? I was joking.”

Ryan shakes his head, fingering the leather of the sofa happily.

“We all know you’re the bitch, not me,” Brendon giggles, causing Ryan to slap his stomach lightly. Brendon grabs Ryan’s hands quickly, spinning him to pin him to the wall. He pushes his lips roughly into Ryan’s, which makes Ryan smile and he begins to kiss him back. Brendon’s tongue slides along Ryan’s lips and he opens them slightly to let it in but they get interrupted, by a slender worker.

“Urhm,” he clears his throat nervously. Brendon pulls away from Ryan, but he keeps Ryan pinned to the wall. “I, err, have this for you.”

He holds out a blanket, a dark green fine knitted one to keep on the sofa. Ryan had insisted on getting it.

“Oh thank you!” Ryan grabs it off him, with a wide smile, almost too wide for the shy young man.

“Urhm,” he grunts before blushing and basically running away for them.

“So, err, what were you saying about having sex in the living room?” Ryan bites his lip and raises his eyebrows in suggestion.

“Let’s hope Pete doesn’t gatecrash this time.”

“Oh, so you do know his name,” Ryan laughs and slaps Brendon’s bum lightly and goes to have a look at what’s left to bring in from the van.



-



A few hours later everything in the house is in and set up, a call was received from the real estate people to apologize and to ask if everything was alright and to give their best wishes to Ryan and Brendon.



Ryan sent Brendon to buy some wine, as Ryan and Pete had drunk all the wine in the house. During Brendon’s absence Ryan took the opportunity to light all the candles he had bought a couple days ago. He switches the lights off and sits cross legged on the smaller of the two sofas which has taken its place as the end of the room by the bay window.



Ryan smirks to himself when he hears the door close and Brendon’s voice mumbling in the hall. Ryan hears him taking off his shoes and the door slowly opens. Brendon’s eyes widen slightly as he looks around the candle lit room and he smirks.

“Why on earth is the room seemingly on fire?”

Ryan stands up and crosses the room, pulling Brendon to him and roughly kisses his lips. He pulls away and Brendon grins.

“Oh so that’s why!” Brendon says before flipping Ryan around to push him against the wall. He leans in and teases Ryan’s lips with his own and Ryan lets out a moan when Brendon pulls away, wrapping his arms around Brendon’s waist to bring him closer. Brendon chuckles and leans forward, their lips crashing together.

“Fuck me Bren,” Ryan mutters as Brendon's shirt comes off over his head and he begins to work on getting his pants off too.

“I would love to,” Brendon hums in reply and drops Ryan's trousers to his ankles and Ryan turns them to push Brendon onto the sofa. Brendon feels the smooth leather on the back of his legs and falls into it.

“That’s how we’re playing it is it?” Brendon almost growls. “Get on your hands and knee bitch.”

Ryan smirks at Brendon sitting on the sofa, with a tent in his underwear. Brendon's hand fiddles with the top of his boxers, biting his lip as he watches Ryan sexily.

"Come on Ryan, stop teasing."

Ryan laughs and lowers himself to the floor, crawling over slowly to Brendon, swaying his hips with each step on his knees.

"That's hot Ryan, now suck my dick," Brendon says as Ryan gets between his legs, putting a hand on each knee. Ryan hums, his hands sliding along Brendon's thighs to his hips. Brendon's hands reach down and lace his fingers through Ryan's and he leans down to place a kiss on Ryan's wanting lips. Brendon’s tongue teases Ryan’s lips with his tongue, willing them to open and Ryan laughs as he stops Brendon from getting what he wants. Brendon puts more force behind the kiss, forcing his tongue in. Brendon's tongue begins to explore the mouth he has so many times before. Together their laced fingers pulling down Brendon’s boxers as he lifts his hips allowing them to pass.



Ryan climbs onto the sofa next to Brendon, trying his best to keep their bruising lips together. Brendon leans onto Ryan's body, Ryan falls onto his back on the leather sofa, the kiss breaking. Ryan lifts his head enough to see Brendon pouring lube onto his fingers. His head drops back to lean on the arm of the sofa and he lifts his hips when he feels Brendon's fingers tugging on his boxers. A finger presses to Ryan's tight entrance, quickly followed by another. Ryan gasps slightly at the stretch but quickly gets used to it and soon he's desperately pressing his hips down onto Brendon's wandering fingers.

Eventually, Brendon decides Ryan's stretched enough and he flips Ryan around, Ryan brings his knees in underneath him, causing his ass to rise in the air, he puts his arms onto the arm rest, getting ready to support himself. Brendon lines himself up with Ryan's entrance before pushing hard into it. Ryan jerks forward, grunting as his chest collides with the arm rest. Brendon's face screws up in pleasure, sighing loudly, before pulling out and thrusting in again. The two begin to work together, both making all sorts of strange noises, talking nonsense.



"Ryan…" Brendon mutters. "I'm…I'm…close…"

Ryan pushes his hips hard into Brendon, causing him to fall backwards onto his arms. Ryan pushes himself off the arm rest, looking back at Brendon, giving him a sly expression.

"Lets change position."

Brendon smirks as Ryan sits onto his lap, lifting his hips slowly, readjusting to Brendon's dick in the change of position. He lowers again, Brendon gasps as Ryan tenses his ring of muscle and thrusts up into him. Brendon's hand snakes around to Ryan's cock and begins to jerk him off. He slides his thumb over the slit and slides his hand down to his balls. Ryan turns into a mess of obscenities and comes all over Brendon's hand, seconds before Brendon himself releases into Ryan.



Ryan falls forward onto the sofa, lying face down on the arm rest. Brendon crawls forward to lie next to Ryan on the sofa, drawing random shapes on the back of Ryan's neck.

"You know Ryan," Brendon laughs nervously. "I think we should have closed the curtains."

"Fuck."

Title:Gingerbread house [6/?]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes: Sorry bbz that I haven't posted for so long, but this for you guys is a special belated Halloween present for you! I was meaning to finish it before halloween, but you know how things go! This chapter is dedicated to poprockbomber, although i didn't send this to her to beta (which, btw I'm sorry for. I'm also sorry if my writing don't make no sense yo) she is still super duper swell and she's just amazing man. Also, tapeduptogether, who gave me the greatest compliment ever!

Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
Chapter Five.

Chapter Six: Happy belated halloween!

“Fucking hell, Ryaaaaaaan!” Brendon pouts at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Ryan to come downstairs. “There are loads of kids out there stealing my candy!”

Ryan shouts something incoherent from the bedroom and Brendon turns to the living room in a huff. His Dracula cape sways as he stomps through, before getting pinned between Brendon’s ass and the white surface of the bay window. Brendon’s looks sadly out on to the street of children, trick or treating, getting all the treats that are on offer before he’s even out the house. His hair falls around his made up face, the dark brown a stark contrast to the pale white of his vampire attire. It’s already half eight and most people will be out and going to parties or filling bags with stranger’s Halloween offerings.

“Ryan!” Brendon shouts impatiently, flinging open the living room door to the hall, his cape flailing dramatic. “What the fuck is taking so long?”
At that moment Ryan chooses to turn up on the stairs, fastening the last bit of bandage by tucking it in under other bandages on his wrist.
“Jesus Brendon, calm down!” Ryan rolls his eyes, slapping softly on Brendon’s face. “Nice make-up, it’s definitely an improvement.”
Brendon pouts while sliding his fingers along Ryan’s arm, across layers of bandages.
“Man!” Brendon pulls away and heads towards the door. “What if I want to have sex with you later?”
“What do you mean?” Ryan pulls a confused face, trying his best to find a problem with the idea.
“Do you know how hard it’ll be to get you naked?” Brendon teases playfully as his hand reaches for the door handle.
“Well, you’ll just have to unwrap me,” Ryan bites his lip while he grins.
Brendon pulls the door open and takes a step backwards out, looking at Ryan.
“God, Ryan, you know I don’t like to work for my sex!” Brendon laughs as he turns around to face a group of six year olds and their designated carer for the evening. The kids gasp and burst into excited giggles.
“Did he just say S-E-X?” a skinny fair-haired witch asks her much chubbier ballerina friend. The group laugh together at the question, except the tired mother who’s been made to take the rowdy children out.
“Oh, err, sorry…” Brendon pulls his hand through his hair nervously. “Err, trick?”

-

Half an hour later, Brendon’s stomach is half full with sugar that he’s been snacking on as they went around the block.
“Bren, can we go home now?” Ryan shivers a little as he speaks. “It’s freezing.”
Brendon pouts before throwing a few skittles into his mouth.
“I guess we could,” Brendon says uncertainly, clearly disappointed by the short trip.
“I’m sorry Bren, you could always carry on with yourself.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Huh?”
Brendon rolls his eyes, before his eyes lock onto something in the distance and his pace quickens.
“Bren?” Ryan tries to keep up with Brendon, having to break into a jog. “What’s wrong?”
“Just keep walking,” Brendon looks around nervously, his hand grabbing Ryan’s mummy hands. Ryan looks over to the distance where Brendon had been staring a few moments earlier, then seeing the problem. A dark hunched figure was coming towards them. It was Halloween and obviously people would be dressed up but it was obvious who this was: Franklin.
By the time Ryan realises what they’re doing, Brendon and him are running towards there house. The figure also begins to run, the best a almost cripple man could anyway.
“I feel like we’re in dawn of the dead,” Ryan says between pants. Brendon laughs the best he can, pulling Ryan along still by the hand.
“Hey, you!” Franklin’s gruff voice calls through the street, now empty since most kids have gone home to consume their booty.
“Fuck!” Brendon curses, pulling Ryan up the driveway. He keeps his eyes on Franklin, who’s stopped running after them. The two of them slow down, trying to catch their breath. Ryan’s eyes fall on the doorstep where a confused looking ninja Pete stood.
“Urhm, you want to come to my party?” Pete shrugs, looking across the street.
“Yeah…yeah…” Ryan begins to whisper, turning to look at Franklin going into his house. “Yeah,”
The three of cross the lawn and fit their way through his house to the garden, which has been transformed into a graveyard. He’s put a couple fake gravestones at the end of the garden, which is covered in fake spider’s webs. In the middle of the garden he has a sarcophagus, which is half open and they can just about make out the shape of a skeleton frozen trying to get out of its eternal resting place.
“Just help yourself to beer and stuff,” Pete says absently to Brendon. “Do you mind if I dance with your boy for a while?”
“No, no, go ahead!” Brendon pushes Ryan towards him, just happy to be in a crowd away from Franklin. Ryan smiles at Pete weakly, completely aware of what he’s doing. Pete grabs Ryan’s hand and pulls him into the house.
“Ryan, I want to apologise,” Pete whispers into Ryan’s ear when they’re swaying awkwardly together on what had been turned into a dance floor. “About kissing you. Without your permission.”
Ryan blushes, avoiding eye contact with Pete by looking at their feet.
“Its fine, you know…” Ryan swallows. “Just please don’t tell Brendon, it’d cause more trouble than it’s worth.”
Pete mumbles something above him, Ryan looks up to him in an effort to understand him better.
“What?”
“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” Pete says solemnly. “I guess you really love Brendon.”
“Well, he’s given a lot up for me,” Ryan sighs, looking through the patio door to a miserable vampire leaning on a gravestone. “And I’d give up everything for him as well.”
Pete sighs before giving Ryan a small smile and letting go of him.
“You go have fun with Brendon, Ryan,” Pete motions to him outside. “I guess I underestimated you guys.”
He gives a nervously laugh and pushes Ryan playfully away from him. “I don’t want your cooties anyway,”

Ryan walks towards Brendon, smiling to himself. Brendon’s white face paint has faded and the red of his lips has smeared over to his cheek.
Brendon looks down to a bottle of beer he’d got from somewhere, wondering how much longer Ryan would be when he feels a few soft fingers trace a line between his lips to his cheek.
“It wasn’t me who smudged your lipstick fairy boy,” Ryan’s voice rings softly in his ears. Brendon lifts his hand to Ryan’s wrapped up one and lifts his gaze to Ryan’s.
“No, it was my lover who did it,” Brendon jokes, trying to keep serious.
Ryan laughs quietly, turning to lean next to Brendon on the gravestone.
“So, what happens when a mummy and a vampire has sex?” Ryan asks, pulling off a bandage that was hanging from his arm, it had unwound itself.
“I don’t know,” Brendon grins cheekily. “They never covered that in mythology.”

-

Ryan’s moans fill the room, as much as he tried to suppress it and keep quiet, he never could. Brendon’s face was creased with pleasure about him, his hips keeping a steady rhythm as he thrusts into Ryan. To the side of mattress lies what seems like the entire content of a hospital’s bandage supply and a pair of pants. Brendon groans as he pushes in harder to Ryan, causing Ryan’s back to arch in pleasure. Brendon’s vampire cape clings to his sweaty back and his lipstick and eye make up is smudged and washing away.
“Ryan,” Brendon mutters as slams into Ryan, harder than before. “I’m fucking close!”
Ryan gasps, unable to reply in any other manner than to moan. Brendon’s hand begins to jerk Ryan off, trying to keep his pumps in time with his thrusts into Ryan.
“Fuck, Ryan!” Brendon screams as he comes. He pulls out and falls beside Ryan on the mattress, finishing Ryan off before his heart rate begins to normalise.
Ryan cuddles up into Brendon’s chest.
“I fucking love you,” Brendon laughs into Ryan’s hair.
“I love you too,” Ryan tilts his head up to give Brendon a quick kiss on his swollen lips. “And your cape.”

Title:Gingerbread house [5/?]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes: I’m not dead! Sorry that it’s been so long I’ve had major writers block and yeah, you know I got all discouraged to carrry on writing! I just hope it hasn't been so long that you don't care anymore! This chapter is dedicated to poprockbomber for beta-ing and for prompting me to carrying on, she's like super swell.

Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.


Chapter Five.

Brendon steps through the door and takes his shoes off carefully, trying his best not to wake Ryan. He goes into the living room to go to the kitchen and he notices Ryan asleep on the beanbags. He smiles to himself and crouches down next to him. He runs a couple of fingers down the side of Ryan face, lovingly. Ryan stirs and swallows before being still again.
“You’re so beautiful,” Brendon laughs to the sleeping Ryan and he doesn’t respond. Brendon chuckles and picks Ryan up in his arms and carries him upstairs, Ryan not waking at all through the process until Brendon lays him down on to the mattress.
“Bren?” Ryan says sleepily, stretching across the mattress.
“Yeah, Ry,” Brendon confirms, getting in under the quilt next to Ryan.
“I’m glad you’re home,” Ryan turns over, placing an arm over Brendon’s chest and falls asleep almost immediately.
“Me too,” Brendon whispers as Ryan’s breathing gets heavier. He doesn’t fall asleep straight away; instead he lies, looking at Ryan. Brendon hates being away from Ryan, even when it’s just for a day, he owes Ryan so much. Brendon wouldn’t be happy without Ryan, he wouldn’t have ever got the confidence to move away from home and tell his parents what he wants. Ryan has help Brendon more than he realises.

-

It’s the morning after that Ryan realises he hasn’t got laid in too long. It’s the morning glory that tells him. Brendon’s gone to work already but he promised Ryan that he’d be home at seven, no exceptions. Ryan decides he’s having sex, tonight, and he’s got a plan to make this happen.

-

An hour and forty five minutes later Ryan finds himself at a department store with a bag of vanilla pot pourri and a box of twenty vanilla scented tea lights. He’s been to the pharmacy and he’s picked up a big bottle of lube, which is threatening to fall out of the pocket Ryan has it stashed in. He checks his watch at it’s already five o’clock. He makes his way to the till and the cashier is a rather chatty middle aged women.
“Vanilla?” she blabbers on. “You know vanilla is an aphrodisiac. Me and my boyfriend used to have it around the house all the time. Do you have a nice young woman?”
Ryan blinks a few times, trying to understand what she’d just said.
“Urhm,” Ryan blushes, pulling out a few notes as she tells him how much it costs. “You could say that I guess.”
“Oh, it’s like that is it!” the woman lifts her eyebrows in acknowledgment. “You know, there’s plenty of guys like you around these days who just don’t want to be tied down to a girlfriend.”
Ryan shakes his head at her, obviously her gaydar is broken. He picks up with bag and heads out the shop, the cashier saying goodbye jollily after him.

When Ryan gets to the car park he can’t find his car. He paces between rows of cars to find it. He has a terrible memory and it’s a big car park. Eventually, he spots his car after going past it three times already. He starts the car and checks the time. It’s quarter to six. He only has an hour and fifteen minutes to get home and set up his plan!

He slips into the car, sticking the keys into the ignition as he puts his seatbelt around him. The engine bursts into life as he turns the key and pushes his foot to the floor, speeding out the car park, cursing as he almost clips the mirror of a white van on the way out. He taps on the steering wheel as he pulls up to a red light around the corner and the second before it switches to green again he’s flying down the road home.

The usual half an hour journey home from the shopping centre took Ryan twenty minutes and Ryan basically drifts into the driveway. Nothings going to stop Ryan from getting laid tonight. Not even Pete, Ryan thinks as Pete walks across the lawn lifting his hand to greet Ryan.

“Hey Ryan,” Pete smiles as Ryan closes his car door and turns to Pete, awkwardly holding his hand of vanilla and lube behind his back. “Any more trouble with Franklin today?”
“Well, errr,” Ryan glances over at Franklin’s house. “No, I’ve been out most the day…”
Pete nods. “When I first moved in he used to look through my windows too.”
“Yeah…yeah,” Ryan taps his foot impatiently. “Well, maybe someone should report him or something like that, fucking perv.”
A small laugh escapes Pete’s lips.
“Yeah, someone probably should, he will stop eventually, he’s just a bit wacky that’s all.”
Ryan looks at his front door.
“Err, look Pete, Brendon’s going to be home soon…” Ryan says, hoping that Pete will get the message.
“Oh cool, has he been at work?” Pete asks, curious. “What does he work as?”
“He’s a lawyer,” Ryan answers simply, trying to verbally push Pete away.
“Oh, wow,” Pete sounds genuinely impressed. “Maybe I can come around later and meet him?”
Ryan growls to himself, trying to politely tell Pete that he can’t come around because he’s planning on fucking Brendon senseless later.
“You can, well, I have dinner planned for him,” Ryan lies. “It’s kind of special.”
Pete smiles, “Cool, well, maybe I can come over after that. I would love to meet him. Maybe I can come around in an hour, an hour and a half?”
Pete looks down at his watch and Ryan surrenders.
“Yeah, sure, cool, an hour and a half…” Ryan tries his best to smile, Pete doesn’t seem to notice Ryan’s incapability to smile and returns Ryan’s grimace.
“I’ll see you later.”
With that Pete turns and heads back over the lawn, lifting his hand as he opens his door.
Ryan turns around and hits his head off his car.
“Fuck!”

-

An hour later Ryan feels arms wrap around his waist and a soft kiss next to his ear.
“Did you miss me baby?” Brendon’s chest vibrates against Ryan’s back.
Ryan smiles and bends over to get something out the oven.
“Wow, Ryan, buy me a drink first!” Brendon jokes and places his hands on Ryan’s folded waist. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve made pie,” Ryan pulls out a large pie and puts it on top on the oven.
“You know Ryan,” Brendon says, turning Ryan around to face him, pinning him to the kitchen counter. “The great thing about pie is that it can be heated up again.”
Ryan pouts.
“Sorry Bren, this guy called Pete is coming around.”
“Wow,” Brendon takes a step away from Ryan, putting his hands up in front of his body. “Sorry I didn’t realise you were seeing someone.”
Ryan slaps Brendon’s stomach lightly.
“Yeah, well I am,” Ryan smirks at Brendon. “And he wouldn’t be happy with you make moves on me, love.”
Brendon laughs and closes the space between them both, holding Ryan’s hips to his with his arms around his waist.
“I guess your boyfriend wouldn’t be happy about his then,” Brendon says before pressing his lips into Ryan’s. the weight of Brendon’s body causes Ryan to fall back on the counter and Brendon leans with a hand on the edge, trying to deepen the kiss.

The door bell sounds before they get any further and Brendon backs away from Ryan with a loud sigh.
“Better go answer the door woman.”

Brendon’s settled down on one of the bean bags while Ryan brings Pete through.
“Yeah,” Ryan mumbles as he looks around the front room. “We’re a bit furniture-ly challenged right now.”
Pete laughs and his eyes scan the room.
“You must be Brendon,” Pete offers his hand to Brendon. He looks at Pete’s hand before giving it a quick shake. A bottle of wine is in Pete’s hand and he hands it to Ryan, slightly defeated by the Brendon’s blatant apathy toward him.
“Brendon, can you go get some glasses?” Ryan says and Brendon sighs angrily and walks to the kitchen, only to return again a few seconds later with three glasses of wine and a corkscrew. He grabs the wine off Ryan and gets the cork out and pours a glass for himself.
“I’m going upstairs to do some work,” Brendon puts the glasses on the floor and kisses Ryan’s forehead. “Nice meeting you Phil.”
“Pete…” Pete retorts after the door shuts.
“I’m so sorry,” Ryan explains. “He’s not so great with new people, he’ll warm to you sooner or later.”
Ryan knows that a lie, Brendon loves meeting new people, he’s way outgoing. The other thing Brendon likes more than new people is sex. He’s cranky because they had to give up their sex for a new person.
“Hopefully sooner…” Pete mutters and takes a sip of his drink. “So…err, why did you move here?”
“It’s our first house together,” Ryan smiles. “We thought it was a nice neighbourhood and it was in our price range and yeah, you know. Here we are.”
Pete smiles.
“You thought?” Pete jokes.
“Well, Franklin has ruined it a little for us,” Ryan rolls his eyes. “Do you want more wine?”

-

“And then, I take his phone and throw it into the field,” Pete slurs. “You should…have…seen...his face!”
They both break into laughter, neither sure of what’s funny or how Pete’s anecdote was relevant to the previous conversation. In fact, neither was sure what the previous conversation was!
“You’re a nasty man Pete, a nasty, nasty man,” Ryan drunkenly giggles. “Did he find it again?”
“Uhrm,” Pete’s face scrunches up. “I can’t remember.”
Ryan bursts into laughter once again and holds onto his flat stomach to try and control himself.
“You’re cute when you laugh,” Pete smiles to himself, his dilated eyes coming in and out of focus on Ryan’s face. “Pretty boy.”
Ryan smirks.
“Whatever, Pete-er!” Ryan says, leaning back against the wall in his beanbag. “You’re a fairly pretty boy too.”
Pete giggles and he leans back against the wall, his face a few inches from Ryan’s.
“Do you mind…?” Pete trails off and Ryan raises an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Pete rolls his head against the wall.
“What?” Ryan leans forward slightly, poking Pete’s forehead clumsily. “Tell me, silly boy.”
“Nothing!” Pete exclaims, his word coming out sounding for like ‘nuffin’.
“Don’t lie!”
Pete scans Ryan’s face and this should have been Ryan’s first sign.
“I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t what?” Ryan pouts.
Pete’s expression goes serious and he begins to move his head closer to Ryan. Before drunk Ryan is aware of it Pete’s lips are on his and Ryan doesn’t push him off.

Well, not until Pete begins to push Ryan backwards and Ryan seems to sober.
“Pete,” Ryan mumbles against his lips but Pete doesn’t stop. “Pete!”
Pete snaps back and glares at Ryan.
“This is wrong Pete,” Ryan says, sitting up straight, looking at his hands. “My boyfriend is right upstairs.”
“Well…” Pete hums. “Come over to mine.”
“A boyfriend I love.”
Pete sighs.
“Alright, I guess I’m defeated.”
“You better go home.”
They both get up and Ryan sees Pete to the door. Pete turns around on the doorstep to look at Ryan.
“Listen, Pete, can we…not tell Brendon?” Ryan swallows, afraid of what Pete would say.
“Hey, dude, its fine. I’m fucking wasted anyway,” Pete laughs. “I probably won’t remember this.”
Ryan laughs and sways waiting for Pete to go.
“Bye,” Pete leans in quickly and pecks Ryan’s lips and heads across the lawn to go home.
Ryan closes the door and sighs before going up to sleep with his boyfriend.

Title: Cigarette Smoke. [2/2]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:R for language and some sexy time.
Pairing:Ryden dutty~
POV:3rd
Summary:Ryan fulfills every fangirl and boy's dream and it's all because of a cigarette.
Disclaimer:If this is true then I'm having Brendon's love child.
Author Notes: What can I say? Thanks to everyone who commented on the last post I guess. This is just a bit of fun and I'm sorry if it's not all perfect, because I'm lame like that, sorry to say. Hope you like it!

Part Ein.

Part Zwei.

The roadies walk on and off the stage carried instruments, every time they test the equipment the crowd cheer. The crowd begin to cheers their name, demanding them to come on. Ryan bites his lip while waiting for them to come onstage, leaning over the barrier as far as he could to see if Brendon was in sight.

Butterflies make their way into Ryan’s stomach as the crowd begin to cheer as the band come on, Brendon taking centre stage. Ryan watches as he scans the crowd and his eyes fall on Ryan. He smirks and he turns to stay something to his band mates before they begin to play. The second the first note is out everyone behind Ryan begins to push, pull and shove, trying to get into Ryan’s place. He holds on to the bar tight and looks up to Brendon on the stage. He’s currently strutting around, singing, the sweat already beginning to form along his hair line. The song comes to an abrupt end and the room is filled with the sound of fans screaming and cheering and clapping. Brendon laughs into the microphone and introduces the band, as if there’s one person in the room who doesn’t know who they are. He goes into a speech about battle of the bands, Jon Walker, the bassist chipping in at the appropriate times. Brendon’s eyes fall on Ryan again and he smirks as he introduces his new song.

“It’s about fucking,” Brendon’s eyes keep on Ryan as he’s saying this and Ryan begins to blush, luckily the chances of him seeing the blush is fairly low. He doesn’t look away until the guitars begin the tune of the song and he needs to sing and put on a show.

“I swear he was looking at us when he said that!” Spencer gushes in my ear as the dirty song fills the room. “Maybe he wants to fuck one of us.”
Ryan simply laughs and they both sway side to side in time with the music, the best they could with the pressure of the crowd around them and a solid barrier restricting their movements.

-

The lights slowly come back on again, indicating that the gig is over and it’s time for all the smelly sweaty teenagers to make their way out of the venue.

“That was awesome!” Spencer almost squeals enthusiastically.
“Yeah, it was,” Ryan smirks to him; Brendon kept looking at Ryan during the concert, although this seems to have slipped past Spencer.
“We should totally go and see if we can meet them!” Spencer doesn’t really give Ryan much of a choice because the second he says this he launches off around the side of the building. Ryan rolls his eyes and follows Spencer slowly, getting a cigarette out while on the move.
“Fucking hell Ryan,” Spencer sighs as he sees Ryan put the stick in his mouth. “Will you just hurry you and not smoke around me?”
Ryan pulls the cigarette moodily out his mouth and shoves it back into the packet, muttering curse words under his breath.
“Spence,” Ryan complains as they settle on a wall a couple meters away from the stage door, where people are slowly gathering. “I need a smoke. Please?”
Spencer rolls his eyes and points for Ryan to go away.
“Fuck off,” Spencer pouts. “Smoke over there. I’m glad smoking means more to you than our friendship dickhead.”
Ryan gives an angry sigh, “Don’t get pissy Spence.”
Spencer crosses his arms and looks determinedly towards the stage door.
“Fine, I’ll be back in like five minutes.”
Spencer mumbles fine under his breath while Ryan heads off away from him. Who knew cigarette smoke could cause someone to get so upset? Ryan begins to light his cigarette when he’s around the corner; however the lighter gets blown out every time he attempts it. Suddenly a pair of hands surrounds the flame before it gets extinguished. Ryan looks up to see who the hands belong to and it’s none other than Brendon Urie.
“Urhm,” Ryan manages to choke out before lighting the fag. “Thank you…”
Brendon smirks while he lowers his hands.
“Could I bum you?” Brendon says slyly. Ryan chokes on the smoke he had just inhaled.
“What?” he laughs.
“Could I bum a cigarette…off you…?” Brendon screws up his eyebrows. “What did you think I’d said?”
Ryan shakes his head.
Great, the smokes got to my head and made me crazy, Ryan thinks while offering Brendon the packet. Brendon takes one gratefully and leans next to Ryan on the wall that he’d been supporting himself on.
“I saw your friend, he didn’t seem so happy.”
Ryan laughs while blowing out the smoke, causing it to come out in an uneven flow.
“No, he hates smokers. He hates me smoking.”
Then Brendon leans in near Ryan, so he’s inches away from him.
“Why would he hate that?” he smirks. “You look damn sexy with that fag in your hand.”
Ryan opens his mouth to say something but he finds it hard to as Brendon’s lips collide with him. They share an open-mouthed kiss, their cigarettes being neglected in their hands as they do this. Ryan drops his on the floor so he can wrap his arms around Brendon’s neck, pulling him further into the kiss, causing Ryan to be pushed harder into the wall. Ryan feels Brendon’s tongue slip inside Ryan’s open mouth and he explores Ryan’s mouth with his own, causing Ryan to make a low humming sound from the back of his throat. Brendon’s hips buck forwards and Ryan realises how hard they both are and he pulls away from Brendon to gasp. Brendon’s lips fill the space near Ryan’s ear.
“Do you want to go back to the tour bus?”
Ryan’s eyes widen and he coughs.
“Won’t the others mind?”
Brendon laughs and tugs on Ryan’s hand to follow him to the bus. They manage to stealthily avoid fangirls and boys and he opens the door and leads Ryan up the few stairs to the bus, locking the door after him.
Ryan stands at the top of the stairs, confused, waiting for Brendon to take the lead. Which he does, he takes the three steps in one and pushes Ryan into the side of the bus, forcing his tongue back into Ryan’s mouth. He lifts one of Ryan’s legs onto his hip and then the other and begins to carry him to the sofa area of the bus. He places Ryan on his back and he undoes Ryan’s belt buckle. Ryan lifts his arms to Brendon’s T-shirt and pulls it over his head then lifts his hips to let Brendon pull his jeans off.

Soon enough Brendon’s all lubed up and he’s thrusting into Ryan’s ass with as much power as he can, both writhing in ecstasy. Brendon mumbles incoherent sentences and Ryan pants, groaning every time Brendon makes a movement inside him. Brendon gives one final thrust before coming inside Ryan. He flips Ryan over and jerks Ryan off until he comes onto Brendon’s hand and his stomach. Brendon leans back onto his arms on the floor, while Ryan takes a moment to calm down on the sofa.

“You know Ryan,” Brendon reaches over to his abandoned jeans, pulling out a silver case. “I actually had cigarettes.”

-

Ryan leaves a note for Brendon, since he’s fallen asleep and Spencer’s sent him like a zillion text messages asking him where the fuck he is. He’s left his phone number and a thank you, if a thank you is the appropriate thing to leave after you’ve just been fucked by the guy…

He gets out the bus and walks to where Spencer is tapping his foot impatiently waiting for Ryan.
“Ryan!” Spencer says angrily. “You said five fucking minutes! It’s be two fucking hours!”
“Sorry Spencer,” Ryan yawns sleepily. “Anything happen?”
“Fuck yes!” Spencer lightens up considerably at the question. “I met them! Except Brendon…”
Ryan smirks and pats Spencer on the back to indicate that they should walk towards the car, which Ryan will be driving because he’s the most sober.
“I was with him,” Ryan reveals to Spencer and he scoffs.
“Keep dreaming Ryan,” he opens the door to the passenger side. “You fucking wish you were.”
Ryan gets into the drivers seat and Spencer is already dropping off in the seat next to him.
“I was,” Ryan says testily, putting the keys in the ignition.
“Whatever…” Spencer manages to say before a loud snore comes out of him. Ryan shakes his head and was about to start up the car when his phone starts to ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey Ryan?” Brendon almost asks. “So, I found your note.”
Ryan hums down the phone.
“Well that’s good, you were meant to find it.”
“Shut your mouth Ryan,” Brendon jokes and Ryan can imagine him smiling on the other end. “So I’m in town for a couple days. Want to do something?”
Ryan laughs and looks at the sleeping Spencer next to him.
“Sure, whatever,” Ryan smirks; too bad Spencer is missing this.
Brendon laughs down the phone.
“Cool, Well, Ryan, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship…”

Title:Cigarette smoke. [1/2]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say R to be safe but that's mainly down to language.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary: Ryan fulfills every fangirl and boy's dream and it all happens because of a cigarette.
Disclaimer:It's as real as my desire to go to work tomorrow. I hate my boss.
Author Notes: I'm tirrrrred! I wrote this because I'm big on the whole putting things off. I started writing this after that picture of Brendon with a fag in his hand (and we're not talking about Ryan). I know you all know the picture I'm talking about! Anyway, I decided it was a bit too big for a standalone so I've put it into two parts. I hope you enjoy it.

Cigarette smoke: Part one.

Ryan turned up early for the concert, like seven hours early. Spencer had talked him into it; apparently you can’t get good standing places without turning up excessively early. They got a good space by the random bit of grass outside the concert venue so they could sit down and have it be fairly cushioned. It’s amazing how many fangirls and boys are already here, all buzzing with excitement. It’s not until he hears one say ‘oh em gee, and Brendon Urie, the lead singer is like, oh my god, so hot…’ or something along those lines, that Ryan’s had enough and announces to Spencer that he will be taking a cigarette break from all the weird fans around the corner. Spencer opens his mouth to object and Ryan gives him a look.

“I could always smoke here…” Ryan states, knowing the reaction he will get from Spencer.
“Second hand smoke? Lung cancer?” Spencer spits. “No thank you. Fuck off you filthy smoker, go smoke your cancer stick.”
Ryan stands before bending down to pick up his side bag from the floor, revealing his belt and elastic of his underwear.
“See you later home skillet.”
“Don’t expect me to have any sympathy when you get fucking emphysema, Ryan!”
Ryan holds up a finger before stepping away from Spencer.

Ryan briskly walks around to the back of the concert venue to find a bench, while getting a cigarette out his bag, or rather trying because Ryan lacks elegance and bag navigation skills so in the end he has to wait until he’s stood still to get the packet out. He pulls one out the packet and retrieves his lighter from his pocket. He slips the packet back into his bag until he rolls his thumb along the lighter and he tries his best to keep the flame on long enough to light his cigarette, the wind doesn’t seem to want Ryan to have the smoke. He shakes the lighter, frustrated that the wind keeps blowing it out and the next time he’s successful.

Ryan inhales and closes his eyes as he breathes it out, calming down. Ryan loves the band but he can’t deal with the fans. The fans are pretty crazy. Pretty crazy as in the kind of fans who stalk the band and try to cut chunks of their hair out. Ryan likes the band, hell he has a huge crush on the lead singer too but he likes to pretend he’s too cool for fanboying.

He takes another drag and blows the smoke up wards so it goes up towards his fridge and he leans back against the wall in an attempt to look cooler. It’s at this point that a pretty dark haired boy comes over to Ryan.

“Hey, errr,” he swallows. Ryan knows who it is. “Do you have a spare cig?”
Ryan opens his mouth, and then closes it before opening and closing it again, he’s speechless. It’s Brendon Urie. Ryan stares at Brendon for what seems like ten minutes and Brendon looks around uncomfortably, fiddling with the bottom of his T-shirt.

After an embarrassingly long silence Ryan jumps back into reality and begins to fumble in his back, trying to get his cigarettes out again.

“Yeah sure,” Ryan locates the packet and pulls it out the wrong way, causing the case to open and for the cigarettes to fall into his bag. He picks one out of the pile and hands it to Brendon. “Except, you need to smoke it here with me so I look like less so a loser.”

Brendon laughs as he slides the white stick in between his rosy lips and brings a lighter up to it, managing to light it on the first go. He exhales the smoke he had just inhaled before turning and drops back to lean against the wall.

“I’m Brendon by the way,” Brendon laughs, he knows that Ryan knows who he is. Ryan laughs and shakes his head as if Brendon introducing himself was a joke. “And you are…?”
“Ryan,” Ryan brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales, then he flicks the ash off the end of it. “I’m here to see your show.”
Brendon nods and takes a drag.
“Cool,” Brendon smiles softly. “And I’m here to play my show.”
Ryan laughs at Brendon’s lame joke.
“Are you here on your own?” Brendon says, scanning Ryan’s face with a sly little smile.
“No, I’m here with my friend. He just won’t let me smoke near him,” Ryan rolls his eyes. “He says he doesn’t want to die through second hand smoke.”
Brendon blows smoke out his mouth.
“Why would he give up a moment spending time with you?” Brendon says in a sexy gruff voice, turning to Ryan while he stubs out his cigarette against the wall.
“Huh?” Ryan’s eyes grow wide as it occurs to him what Brendon had said.
“Never mind,” Brendon winks and flicks what’s left of his cig into the floor. “Maybe I’ll see you later, after the show.”
Brendon laughs at Ryan’s shocked expression and leans in and places a soft kiss on Ryan’s lips.
“Later Ryan.”

Ryan stares at Brendon as he walks away and slips into the stage door. He hears the distant bang of the door shut completely and Ryan hurries over to tell Spencer.
“Spencer,” Ryan says breathily as he sits next down next to him on the grass. “Brendon…Brendon Urie!”
Spencer lifts an eyebrow and pulls a face at Ryan.
“Jesus Christ,” Spencer sniffs in sharply. “You fucking stink Ryan. Of Cigarettes, it’s disgusting.”
Ryan rolls his eyes and slaps Spencer lightly on his arm.
“You fucking idiot,” Ryan almost growls. “I’m trying to tell you that I just met Brendon Urie!”
Spencer’s eyes open wide and his nostrils flare.
“Fuck…are you being serious…?” Spencer watches Ryan nod and he’s face breaks into a grin. “Fucking hell Ryan!” Spencer slaps Ryan’s leg sharply. “And you didn’t call me! You know I want to fuck him senseless!”
“He kissed me,” Ryan smirks smugly to himself, biting his lip a little as he relives the moment in his mind.
Spencer blows raspberries.
“Sure whatever!” Spencer laughs, screwing his face up in disbelief. “You wish Ryan. Fucking hell, that’s a bit farfetched don’t you think?”
“Fine,” Ryan crosses him arms moodily. “If you don’t want to believe me don’t”
“Ryan!” Spencer sighs. “Don’t be a mard. Look, its another five hours until the concert starts, I need a drink.”
Spencer stands up and gets some coins out his pocket and moves them around, counting them, in his hand.
“Do you want anything?” Spencer asks and Ryan looks in his bag at all the bent and broken cigarettes.
“Some cigs?” Ryan asks hopefully and Spencer screws his eyebrows together, walking away muttering something about filthy smokers.

-

Spencer did buy Ryan cigarettes, claiming he’ll only do it for him this one time and he only did it this time because he knows Ryan will get all angry and snarky without his nicotine fix. Since Spencer came back, five and a half hours have past, 9 cigarettes have been smoked and Ryan and Spencer are inside the concert venue, trying to get a good spot while the support band set up their equipment.

“Ryan, I want to get close to the stage when the Danones come on,” Spencer says excitedly, taking a sip of beer out his clear plastic cup. When Spencer says close, he means barrier because right now me and Spencer are three people deep in the crowd. “I’m not so bothered about the support band.”

Ryan nods, eagerly anticipating music to fill the room as the band files on stage one by one taking their places at the correct instruments and they launch right into a song that Ryan barely recognises. The people around him begin to move around, loosening up and they sway along with the music, even though it’s a fast rock song not a slow love Ballard. Ryan holds onto Spencer’s arm so he can stay upright. The song finishes and they talk a little, introducing themselves and then doing the standard ‘who’s here to see the Danones!”

Soon enough the set’s over and everyone moves in, trying to get a good space for the main event. Spencer holds onto Ryan’s hand pulling him forwards. Spencer pries a couple people away from the barrier and he pushes Ryan in the space he’s cleared.

“No matter what you do,” Spencer says dramatically. “Don’t let go of the bar.”
Ryan laughs at how ridiculous Spencer is but still he tightens his grip on the barrier, as right now there must be three pairs of hands tugging on various parts of his body.

This is going to be fun.

Title:Gingerbread house [4/?]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes: I’m not dead! Sorry that it’s been so long I’ve had major writers block and a major lack of time! This chapter is dedicated to poprockbomber for beta-ing and for being awesome. sinfulxtragedy for FC. I hope this chapter is worth the wait! :)

Previous Chapters.

Chapter Four.

The builders came around fairly quickly. The people who had sold the house to them had offered to pay for them to fix the wall, after all it was them who sold them this shit hole house!



Ryan leads them upstairs, the builders tracing mud up the stairs and roughly bumping into the walls as the waddle up the stairs after him. He makes a mental note to clean the stairs when he has a moment. Once in the bedroom he points to the wall that needs replacing and one of them wipes his grubby face before punching a whole right through the polystyrene wall, before confirming what Ryan already knew; that it was in fact polystyrene. He runs Ryan through how they’re going to go about making a wall between the bedroom and the bathroom and Ryan smiles and nods as if he understands any of what the builder is saying.



Brendon’s had to go to work today, Brendon works as a lawyer, except not one of these crappy corporate lawyers who have completely sold out the human race for masses of money. Brendon works with misled and misunderstood youth and he still gets enough money from that, Brendon doesn’t need to sell out. There’s a big case going on right now so Brendon’s had to start work again sooner than they had both expected so Ryan’s been left alone at home.



The workmen reject Ryan’s offer of tea and then he leaves them to it, hearing a few bangs of something against the fake wall. The second Ryan is downstairs he get a bucket and mop to clean thee mud of the stairs. Ryan’s a bit anal and retentive about the house being clean, lucky for him the stairs are wooden as opposed to carpet so it’s easy to clean.



He squeezes the excess water into the bucket before swiping the mop across the first step, murmuring to himself about the lack of respect the builder showed to his house. He pulls the mop off the step, once satisfied that it’s clean and then commences to clean the second step. He sighs as the dry muck is lifted off the step and as he looks he notices something lodged in the corner of the step. Ryan pulls on it and the corner of the laminate pops up. Ryan gasps and he lifts the corner once more and he realizes how loose the wood is. Ryan gives a sigh of exasperation as quickly finishes on the steps moodily.



One more fucking thing to add to the list of shit going on in this house, Ryan thinks as he drops himself onto the beanbag with a couple of tea.



After a while the builders announce that they’re done for the day and they’d be back tomorrow to do a little more, the door closing behind them.



Ryan relaxes further into the beanbag and he feels his head go fuzzy and his eyes close.



-



Ryan wakes up again and it’s dark outside, like pitch black. Ryan squints to make out the time on the clock on the walk. It’s half past midnight. Brendon was meant to be home three hours ago.

“Brendon?” Ryan calls into the darkness, while he stretches and gets up to switch the light on. No reply comes. “Brendon?”



The room fills with light and Ryan looks around the room as if Brendon’s hiding in there. His eyes fall on the bay window. Outside in the darkness he can see something. A shape near the window. Ryan looks carefully at it and he realizes what it is, or who it is would probably be the correct phrase. It’s the man from across the street, his face currently pressed up against the window. Ryan suppresses a scream and turns around so he can no longer see the man. He pulls out his phone and he begins to dial Brendon’s number.



“Hello?” Brendon’s voice fills the line. Ryan opens his mouth to talk and turns around to look at the man, but he’s gone. Ryan’s breath hitches in his throat as the doorbell rings.

“Ryan?” Brendon asks, since Ryan hasn’t spoken for a while. Ryan stays silent as the door bell rings again. “Ryan?”

Ryan takes a couple steps out into the hall, a shadow projected across the front door window, the shadow moving to ring the doorbell again.

“Bren,” Ryan’s breath comes out in uneven drags. “Where are you?”

“I’m still at work Ry. I called to tell you that I was working late,” Brendon explains and Ryan can hear someone talking in the background. “Look Ryan, I can’t talk now, I’ll be home in an hour or so, okay?”

Ryan whimpers in reply as he takes a couple more steps towards the door, picking up an umbrella up.

“Alright bye.”

Brendon hangs up before Ryan can protest properly. He throws the phone onto the stairs and take a few more steps towards the door until all that’s left to do is to pull the door handle down and open the door. The door bell rings again and Ryan quickly opens the door, jerking his arms and the umbrella above his head, preparing to hit the mystery stalker in the face with it.



However, the door doesn’t swing open to reveal the weird man; instead a good looking man has taken his place. The man is dressed in a sharp suit and his hair is casually coiffed off his face.

“Are you okay?” he says, with what seems like genuine concern. Ryan’s heart begins to slow down a little and he’s arms loosen up and gradually lowers the umbrella.

“Yeah, I just thought…” Ryan mumbles, running his fingers through his hair with embarrassment.

“You thought I was Franklin,” the man says in a low voice.

“Frank…Franklin?” Ryan repeats and looks to the house behind the man’s head, the lurker seems to have escaped to his house and Ryan swears he can still see the shape of the man in the upstairs window.

“The man across the street,” the cute guy tilts his head to the house behind him and Ryan nods. “It’s okay, he’s just weird. He won’t do anything to bad.”

“Too bad?” Ryan says, fazed by the whole situation.

The man nods, almost ignoring Ryan’s question.

“Listen, I live next door,” he points to his car. “If he gives you any trouble, you tell me. He’ll ease off after a while. He did the same with me when I first moved in.”

Ryan laughs absently. He eyes flitting nervously around the street and the door.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he stares at Ryan’s face, waiting for Ryan to give a sign to say that he was. Ryan nods. “I’m Pete.”

“I’m Ryan,” Ryan exhales as he comes out his trance. “Thank you for checking on me.”

Pete gives a grin and Ryan returns it.

“Well, I’ll see you later,” he takes a step away from the door. “Really, come over if it gets a bit creepy.”

Ryan laughs as Pete crosses the grass to his own house. He gives a final look at the house and Pete before closing the door and sitting back down on the beanbags. He’s going to wait until Brendon’s home to go to sleep, then he’ll feel safe.

Title:Gingerbread house [3/?]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes: This chapter is dedicated to poprockbomber for beta-ing and for being awesome. bilvysforyou for FC. Sorry it's be a couple days and all, I've been super stressed with aload of rubbish! Thanks for everyone who commented last time because they all made me day way better than it had been :)

Chapter One.
Chapter Two.

Chapter Three.

That day they do more painting. They figure they should get as much of it done before they both need to start working again otherwise they’ll be too busy and it’ll never get done. They paint their bedroom; well mattress room for now, the mattress room is the most important room in their opinion.



“I hate the smell of paint,” Ryan cringes as he rolls on a layer of olive green paint onto the wall.

“I love it,” Brendon inhales the paint speckled pot in his hand, closing his eyes as he does so. He pulls away and pulls a face at the contents within the can. “I don’t like the colour though.”

Ryan rolling quickens, trying his best not to snap at Brendon.

“Well, it’s not my fault you’d throw a hissy fit every time I asked you for input,” Ryan’s rolling causing a few bit of paint it fly back at him. “You didn’t have to lie down in the middle of the aisle and refuse to move until we left Bren. You could have gone to sit in the car.”

Brendon mumbles something under his breath as he paints around the door.

“It was too warm,” he says after he finishes ranting to himself.

“Oh yeah, I heard that you’re not meant to leave dogs in hot cars,” Ryan says dryly. “I guess the same applies to boyfriends.”

Brendon gives Ryan a look to let him know he’s not impressed and to get back at him for this snarky comment he leans over and draws a big long line of olive paint up the back of his over sized white shirt. In result, Ryan pulls the shirt around so he can see the bottom of the painted line and he runs towards Brendon and runs the roller along the front of his shirt. Brendon looks from the rolled on olive colour to Ryan’s face. He pounces forwards, trying his best to connect his paintbrush with Ryan’s clothes, face, hair, anything. Although seemingly aggressive, it’s actually them being playful.



Ryan laughs as Brendon pushes him against the wall. However, the smiles and laughter fade when Ryan feels himself sink into the wall. They both felt it and they both quickly jump away from the wall. There on the wall, is a nice Ryan Ross shaped indention. Brendon runs his hand along the ridge.



“What!” he proclaims, the 'A' being drawn out to make the exclamation longer than it’s intended. Ryan takes this as a cue to feel for himself and he finds out what Brendon was referring to in his ‘what’. The wall is made of polystyrene. Like those big sheets of polystyrene can you rub and it flakes off into little circles of white. The weight of Brendon and Ryan seemed to have been enough to compress the bubbles and effectively have ruined the effect of it being a normal wall.



Brendon pulls out his phone again to call the people who sold them the house to ask them what they’re going to do about, leaving Ryan in the mattress room alone. He exhales loudly and looks for things to do, he decides against painting because after all, maybe the other walls are made of polystyrene too. He settles on looking out of the window. It’s a nice day outside and the sun shines on the street just right to give it that stereotypical suburban feel. Ryan looks from one house to another, checking the cars. Everyone on this street has fancy cars and well kept lawns. Each house looks unique, with their own little quirks but just enough the same to look perfectly with each other.



There’s just one house that isn’t like the rest, the house exactly opposite Brendon and Ryan’s house. There’s just something not quite right about it. It’s at this point Ryan notices a man in the window, staring at Ryan through binoculars. As soon as the man realizes he’s been caught he quickly lowers the binoculars and takes a few steps away from the window, so Ryan can only just make out the outline of the creepy guy looking over.



“Brendon!” Ryan calls nervously and Brendon comes in after a moment, hanging up his phone.

“They say they’ll sort the wall out, some guys are coming to have a look at it in a couple days,” Brendon says as he wraps his arms around Ryan’s waist. “Molehills, molehills.”

“Brendon,” Ryan’s tone is uncertain and Brendon picks up on this and he kisses the side of Ryan’s head to comfort him.

“Look, the furniture will come and the wall will get fixed and everything will be good.”

“No, Brendon,” Ryan shakes his head. “There was a man staring at me across the street.”

Brendon laughs. “He was probably staring because you were staring at him.”

Ryan shakes his head quickly again, backing away from the window into Brendon.

“He was looking through binoculars.”

Brendon cocks an eyebrow.

“Binoculars?”

Ryan nods and he turns and trots out the room and sits down on the carpet in the hall, holding his head in his hands. Brendon comes and sits next to him and puts his arm around him.

“So we have a peeping Tom,” Brendon sighs. “It could be worse. It could be my mother peeking on us.”

“God, your mother.”




-


Later that day Brendon braves the outside and decides to mow the lawn. It’s like in the middle of a heatwave and Brendon does it anyway because it really needs doing. He starts up the mower and he tries his best to push it along in a straight line but after two second the engine of the lawn mower cuts out. Brendon pulls on the cord to start it up again but it doesn’t start, it takes a couple more hard pulls of the cord to make the engine begin again. He pushes it along to the end of the lawn one way and it cuts out again. He repeats the same and he gets to half way to the end when it cuts out again. Brendon collapses on the cut grass, defeated. He swipes the sweat from his forehead and leaning back on his hands while he enjoys the sun for a moment.



Brendon looks at the house across the street, Brendon begins to get up but then double takes as he realizes there’s a man looking at him. He’s stood in the bottom window, the same place where the bay window is in their house. He stands with his arms held behind his back, blatantly just freely starting at Brendon lying on the grass.



After a moment and after getting sufficiently creeped out Brendon goes inside and tells Ryan about what had just happen.



“Bren, this guy is scary, what do we do?” Ryan whines. “I’m scared.”

Brendon leans against the wall above where Ryan is sat and exhales, his eyes fixed on no specific fixed point in the room.

“Nothing,” he sighs. “He hasn’t done anything too wrong, so it’s not like we can call the police. He’s just a creepy guy. We can deal with this Ry. Molehills.”

Ryan smiles and stands up to give Brendon a hug from the side, resting his chin on Brendon’s shoulder.

“If he does anything else though, we’ll call right?” Ryan says, rubbing Brendon’s stomach which causes Brendon’s muscles to retract and for him to laugh.

“That tickles!” Brendon says putting his hands around Ryan’s and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “And of course, but I doubt he’ll do anything else. He’s only staring over because he’s jealous of how fierce we are.”

Ryan lightly slaps Brendon’s belly, checking his watch and then he heads for the kitchen.




“I believe its pot noodle time.”

“Yeah and I’m the fat ass!” Brendon calls after Ryan.

Ryan flips him off before passing through to the kitchen.

Brendon sighs and crouches down to sit on the beanbag, giving the house across the room a quick look. He shudders. He doesn’t know who that man was, but Brendon felt he was no good.


“Ryan, we’ll have to get curtains for the bedroom.”

Title:Gingerbread house [2/?]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s a real as Pablo, mine and Brendon’s bb.
Author Notes: This chapter is dedicated to poprockbomber for 'proof reading' it and as it happens, getting first comment. Lucky her! :) Thanks for the comments and love I got off you guys on the last post. Second chapters in my opinion are no good, they’re too inbetweeny, this only makes sense to special people. Anywayz kidz, have fun reading this, keep it safe.

Chapter Uno.

Chapter Two.

Ryan holds up two identical paint pots, except one is labelled ‘mint green’ and the other is ‘light green’. He looks from one to the other, examining both carefully. As Ryan if lost in thought, Brendon comes riding down the aisle on a trolley, knocking into a shelf causing a few paint pots to tumble to the floor, one of them cracking open and realising a deep rich red colour..

“Brendon!” Ryan hisses. “Stop being so immature!”
Brendon spins around on the trolley before deciding he was too dizzy and stopping, holding himself straight with the handlebar.
“But Ryaaaaan!” Brendon moans, pouting childishly. “This is so boring.”
Ryan groans to himself, this happens every time they go shopping, unless it’s sweet shopping.
“Tough Bren!” Ryan frowns scanning both paint pots again. “Which colour do you prefer?”
Brendon shrugs.
“They’re both the same,” Brendon says uninterested, picking up a ‘cosmic blue’ paint pot and reading the back.
Ryan scoffs.
“No they aren’t!” Ryan shakes the two cans at him. “Look, mint green and light green. They’re completely different!”
Brendon rolls his eyes and begins to zip and unzip his hoodie.
“I think the key word in that sentence is green,” Brendon says sarcastically, stressing the word green.
“Pick one!” Ryan says impatiently.
“I can’t! They look the same to me!” Brendon flings his arms in the arm in protest. “They are the same!”
“Just pick a fucking colour Brendon!”
“Fucking,” Brendon says, trying to articulate himself into words and failing to do so. “I don’t know! Light green?!”
Ryan holds the mint green closer to his face.
“I think I prefer the mint actually…” Ryan says trailing off, putting the light green back on the shelf and places the mint green in the trolley.
Brendon mumbles things under his breathe about shopping and Ryan reacts by giving him ‘a look’.
“Come on, kid,” Ryan pulls the end of the trolley forwards to signal for Brendon to follow. “I want a mirror to go over the fireplace.”
Brendon lightens up. He likes mirrors. A lot.
“Can we have one over our bed?” Brendon suggests, seriously.
“God Brendon,” Ryan’s face crinkles up as he looks at Brendon in disbelief. “You’re so vain.”
Brendon shrugs his shoulders.
“I know there must be more to life than being really, really ridiculously good looking,” Brendon pulls his hair back in a dramatic way. “But I am yet to discover it.”
Ryan lifts an eyebrow.
“Alright Zoolander, which mirror do you like?”

-

In the end Brendon convinced a bedroom mirror was a good idea, although Ryan insists a mirror over the bed would require a bed first. Brendon says that’s just a small trifling detail.

They begin to paint almost as soon as they get home because they’re excited about personalising their house. Brendon’s got changed into old jeans and a plain black top which is way to big for him. Ryan on the other hand bought an oversized white shirt and a pair of shorts especially for the occasion.

“It’s not a fashion parade,” Brendon teases as Ryan begins to pour paint into the roller tray.
“Whatever Brendon,” he stands up straight with a new fluffy roller in his hand. “Whatever happened to being really, really ridiculously good?”
Brendon ignores Ryan and begins to paint the edges of the walls carefully. Ryan begins rolling on the opposite wall.
“I’m really glad we’re doing this Brendon,” Ryan grins at the wall while he changes the grubby white to a minty light green colour. “Do you think we should have gone for the light green?”
Ryan stands back and checks what he’s done.
“Ryan!” Brendon snaps, getting some paint on the ceiling as he paint the edge along the top of the wall. “I think the mint is fine. I think we should have gone for yellow.”
“Yellow?” Ryan cocks on eyebrow.
“Yes, yellow. The green is fine though.”
“Fine? Fine?!” Ryan puts the roller and tray on the floor and rests his hands on his hips. “Fine?! I want it to be more than fine! I want it to be perfect!”
Brendon sighs and throws the paintbrush back into the pot, creating it to sprinkle up at him. He walks over to Ryan and he kisses his cheek.
“As long as we’re happy, the colour doesn’t matter to me baby,” Brendon whispers. This really cheesy line seems to work with Ryan since he smiles delightful, give Brendon a peck on the lips and resumes to painting.

-

Ryan collapses on the bean bag next to Brendon, wiping the sweat off his face while replaces with the wet paint on his hand. He rests his head on Brendon’s shoulder, whose busy getting flakes of green from around his finger nails.

“It looks really good,” Ryan comments weakly, closing his eyes while he says it.
“Yeah,” Brendon looks out of the bay window at the end of the room. The sun’s setting behind the houses on the other side of the road. “I like it.”
“It’ll look better when we actually have furniture,” Ryan laughs tiredly. “I’m so tired.”
“We still need to hang up that mirror Ryan,” Brendon points to the mirror leaning against the stairs that they can see through the open door.
“Tomorrow,” Ryan barely pronounces this. “I’m tired.”
Brendon yawns and checks his watch. They’d been painting for almost seven hours and it was now ten o’clock.
“We can do it tomorrow,” Brendon whispers but Ryan doesn’t reply. “Ryan? Ryan?”
Ryan replies by exhaling loudly, making it clear that he had fallen asleep. Brendon sighs and smiles to himself while he looks down at Ryan’s closed eyes and open mouth. He laughs as Ryan snores slightly. He stands up, carefully making sure not to wake Ryan as he lowers him down across the two bean bags before lifting him up into his arms and carries Ryan up to the mattress. The move has been tough on Ryan. Brendon can survive whatever happens, he could live anywhere but for Ryan the house is important. He’s never had a real family before with his dad and lack of siblings and Brendon and this house was his only chance to be normal. Well, as normal as two gay boys living together can be. Brendon wants the world to be perfect for Ryan.

As a surprise for Ryan to wake up to Brendon decides to put up the mirror. He gets out a few nails and knocks them into the wall and hangs the mirror over the fireplace. The mirror is silver. From a distance it looks plain and just shiny silver but when you get closer you see all these intricate little Celtic lines. The great things about Celtic patterns are that they never end, you follow the lines and you always get back to where you start. It’s eternal.
Just like me and Ryan, Brendon thinks and smiles to himself as he traces over the lines.

Brendon begins to put up pictures around the room. He puts a few on the mantelpiece and he hangs some around the mirror in an abstract square pattern. Pictures of good times Brendon and Ryan have had, a few pictures of Spencer and Jon with them and a couple of Brendon and his family. Pictures have always meant a lot to Ryan, he’s like obsessed with taking pictures. Constantly. He says he doesn’t want to miss a moment.

After he’s satisfied with his work he flops onto the bean bags and before he knows it he’s falling asleep.

-

He wakes up to Ryan talking to him.
“Bren?” Ryan says, stroking Brendon’s hair out his face. Brendon slowly opens his eyes, the sun burning as it reaches his eyes. “Bren! Thank you!”
Ryan kisses Brendon’s forehead and smoothes his finger from his ear to his chin.
“You must have been up all night lining it all up and stuff,” Ryan points to the pictures and mirrors, which are all perfectly straight to each other.
“Do you like it?” Brendon says as he rubs his eyes and then opens them wide in attempt to wake up.
“I love it Bren,” Ryan grins. “This was such a nice thing to do for me.”
Brendon nods and smiles weakly at Ryan.
“Anything for you.”
Ryan laughs.
“I knew there was a reason I was moved in with you.”

Title:Gingerbread house
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:idk, lets say PG-13. Overall.
Pairing:Ryden dutty.
POV:3rd
Summary:Brendon and Ryan are moving into their perfect house or what they think is their perfect house, until it starts everything starts going wrong with it.
Disclaimer:It’s as real as mine and Brendon’s love affair.
Author Notes: This chapter is dedicated to poprockbomber for beta-ing (is that correct?) and sinfulxtragedy because I told her I would! So this is my new story and I really, really hope you like it. Over the next few days postings are probably going to be sporadic because of some stuff but I just want to get started on posting as soon as I can so, here it is! Enjoy!

Chapter One.

Brendon circles Ryan’s shoulders with his arms, breathing in the sweet scent from the nape of his neck. Ryan looks over the houses exterior again. Everything was perfect from the ivy to the way the sun hits the windows and the walls. The garden outside needs some work, the grass is slightly over grown and there’s not much in the way of bushes and flowers but he’s sure he and Brendon can sort that out between them.



“Ryan,” Brendon mutters against his neck, eyeing up the red door that’s up the driveway from them. “It’s all ours.”



Ryan’s face breaks out to a grin and he reaches his hands up to hold onto the arms around his neck. He takes one more look at the windows, the bricks and the ivy before pulling Brendon along to the front door.



“Do you have the keys?” Ryan almost giggles nervously as Brendon produces a set of keys from his pocket and he shakes them. Ryan’s grin widens even more and takes the keys from him. “Do you want to or should I?”



Brendon takes Ryan’s hand in his and guides it into the keyhole and turns it.

“We’ll both do it,” he says as the lock clicks signaling that the door is unlocked. “After all, this is our house. Are you ready for this?”



Ryan’s breath catches in his throat and nods at Brendon without saying a word and he pulls down on the door handle and pushes it open carefully.



What is revealed is perfect in Ryan’s opinion. The floor is laminate, light brown wood that looks homely, past the hall floor there’s a door open which leads to the kitchen which shows gleaming wooden surfaces and white tiles which look clean. Everything that Ryan can see looks clean and shiny and just like he imagined his first home with Brendon to be like.



“Should we go in Ryan?” Brendon laughs and Ryan realises he’s been stood looking through the door for s good few minutes. Ryan nods and grins and squeals when Brendon picks him up bridal style to take him over the threshold.



“Where was the bedroom again?” Brendon almost purrs and wiggles his eyebrows in suggestion. Ryan scoffs.



“Let’s have a look at the rest of the house first,” Ryan points to a door on the left of the hall where they came through. Brendon grumbles as he pushes his way through the white door.



It could be that Brendon has incredible strength but whatever it was the door doesn’t swing open. No, it falls to the floor, making a loud bang as it hits the wooden floors of the living room. Ryan’s mouth opens wide and Brendon’s eyes widen.



“Err,” Brendon hums. “I thought it was fully furnished…?”



What the fallen door has revealed to Brendon and Ryan is a completely bear room, with no furniture. Brendon sighs and puts Ryan down and runs his hands through his hair and pulls his mobile out the pocket.



“Do you want to verbal bitch slap the real estate people or should I?”



-



Ryan sits heating up a pot noodle in the microwave. The hum almost soothing after the long day he’s had. The house was meant to be fully furnished with sofas and beds but there’s nothing, other than a microwave. Not even a oven, a microwave!



The microwave pings and he grab a spoon that he’d brought from his old home and he walks through to what’s going to be the living room, where they’ve basically put two bean bags in place of sofas. Ryan sits on one of them and he leans over to Brendon on the one next to him, resting his head on Brendon’s shoulder.



“They say that they’re going to get us brand new furniture,” Brendon mumbles as he shoves a forkful of noodles in his mouth.



“How longs it going to take?” Ryan plays with his food; he’s not very hungry with the disappointment of the house.



“Two to three weeks. Maybe more,” Brendon sighs and puts his pot noodle down on the floor next to him and puts his arms around Ryan. “Look, it’s only a molehill.”



Ryan nods against Brendon’s chest, fighting back the tears.



“We’ll get the furniture and we’ll decorate and everything will be just as perfect as everything should be for you,” Brendon pushes Ryan’s hair out his face and kisses his forehead. “Maybe we can start painting before the furniture comes?”



Ryan nods again, a tear coming down his face.

“Bren, I just wanted everything to be perfect,” Ryan wipes away another tear as it falls down his face. “It’s our first house together and everything should be perfect.”



Brendon laughs and shakes his head.



“No Ryan,” Brendon wipes away Ryan’s tears. “First houses are never easy. Now, there’s a mattress upstairs in a room that still has to be christened."



-



The next day Ryan wakes up squashed against Brendon’s naked body. They’ve had it fit onto a single mattress together, which wasn’t really a problem since most of last night was spent on top of each other.



Ryan wakes Brendon with a kiss and Brendon turns so he’s face to face with Ryan.



“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey,” Ryan whispers back as he caresses Brendon’s face. “You’re so beautiful when you wake up.”



Brendon laughs and kisses Ryan, ignoring the bitter taste that the night had give them both.



“How about we go buy some paint today to decorate?” Brendon suggests and Ryan squeals at his and jumps off the bed, well mattress, and begins to get trousers on. After a moment he turns around giving Brendon a dirty look.



“Baby,” Ryan says in a hurried manner. “What are you waiting for!? Get out of bed, fat ass!”

Title:Little boys who play with fire get burnt [Epilogue]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:pg-13 or less.
Pairing:Ryden, Rywalk
POV:3rd.
Summary: Ryan works for a magazine, he doesn't feel apprecited and always ends up with the worse articles to write like, ever. At the moment the only thing that makes his day worth while is the sexy Jon Walker who keeps him company at lunch. That's until his boss, Chantal, puts him on a job to seduce famous singer, Brendon Urie. It's makes Ryan's world a bit crazy. Make that a lot crazy.
Disclaimer:FAKE FAKE FAKE
Author Notes: This chapter is dedicated to kingsofnothing for FC on the last chapter and psychoticsmile for reading over this for me. This is the final final piece of this story and I can honestly say I'm going to miss it! Thanks to everyone who's commented on it because it's made my head huuuuuuge!

Previous Chapters.

The Epilogue.

A thin pale boy paces around an empty kitchen once more. Opening every cupboard and switches the sink on and off. He grins, happy with the room and he moves along to the next room. It’s empty also, the walls painted white like a blank canvas just waiting for someone to take control and make it their own. The boy runs his hand along the wall, just to make sure it’s real. Right now he’s imagining how he would decorate the wall; what colour, what pictures. What furniture they’ll put the room. He’s done this with every room he’s seen so far. Touching the walls and imagining things. He can see himself living here.

Another boy enters the room, placing his hands around the other boy’s waist and kisses his neck.
“So Ryan, what do you think?” asks the boy with the dark brown hair.
“I think it’s pretty perfect,” Ryan touches the wall one last time because turning to face the other. “Do you like it Bren?”
Brendon nods his head.
“You should see upstairs Ryan, it’s pretty neat, and it’s got everything. It has three bathrooms, upstairs alone! It’s got a room for Spencer and Jon, a room for our dogs, because obviously our dogs need their own room” he pulls Ryan excitedly along with him up a wide staircase and pulls him into a large and spacious room.
“This would be our room,” Brendon announces. “Look outside. Look at the view. It’d be perfect for Jon and Spence on their honeymoon don’t you think?”
Ryan chuckles. “I doubt they’d want to be here on their honeymoon.”
Brendon knits his eyebrows together and just looks at Ryan in a very confused way.
“Why not?” he almost sounds offended as he says this.
“Okay, Bren, lets rephrase that,” Ryan laughs. “I don’t want to have to be in the same house when Jon and Spencer start fucking like rabbits.”
Brendon rolls his eyes and points out the window.
“Just look at the view!”

Across the room from the door they entered, there are big glass doors leading onto a balcony. Outside all you can see is trees next to trees next to trees until you get to the lake. The lake being like a splash of blue paint at the top of a lot of green. The sun reflects just perfectly off the lake, simmering in the distance. Beyond the lake you can see mountains. It looks like a cliché view that one only finds in films.

“Bren, its prefect,” Ryan says, mesmerised by the view. Brendon kisses Ryan’s neck as he takes in the view.
“That’s not the only beautiful view to be seen in this room,” Ryan giggles to himself and gives Brendon a peck on his lips.
“I really think we should go for it,” Ryan bites his lip at the suggestion. “I mean, buy it. It’s perfect; it’s exactly what I imagined our first house together to be.”

Brendon gives Ryan a crooked smile.
“Anywhere with you is what I imagined.”



A/N: This chapter inspired me to write a new story called gingerbread house about Ryan and Brendon moving into a perfect house, errr, okay, perfect isn't the word, Crap is probably the first word that comes to mind. So look out for it if you're interested :D

Title:Dragons, Crocodiles and Hearts.
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:Pg-13 because I don't know what the one below that is.
Pairing:Ryden, Rywalk.
POV:Ryan’s
Summary: Brendon and Jon are together. Jon leaves town. For good. Brendon isn't happy but Ryan's there to help him feel better.
Disclaimer:FAKE FAKE FAKE
Author Notes: Dedicated to psychoticsmile who helped me know where it was going. Honestly, it's not my favourite story I've ever written but I hope you like it :)

Dragons, Crocodiles and Hearts.

Brendon lies looking at the clouds in a field. There’s this one cloud and it looks like a dragon. Most clouds look like dragons these days. A long tail, a blobby body and a wisp of cloud for the fire, it’s a pretty generic shape, honestly. Brendon spends a lot of time watching clouds. When he takes his dog, Dylan, out for a walk he just lets her run free while Brendon watches the clouds. Only today he’s not walking Dylan; he’s walking his Jon.

Jon crashes down next to Brendon, staring intently at him before moving his hand in front of his face. Brendon blinks as he snaps out his little daydream and he moves his head so he’s face to face with Jon.

“Why so glum?” Jon asks as he carefully pushes the hair out of Brendon’s face. “Are you sad?”

The fact of the matter was that Brendon was sad, something’s been making him sad for quite a while and he’s not sure what it is that’s making him feel so forlorn most the time.

“I’m not glum Jonny boy,” Brendon forges a smile as he says this. A smile too big to be natural. “I’m just watching the clouds. That one looks like a dragon.” Brendon reaches his arm above him, with his fingers pointing towards the warped version on the cloud he was looking at a few moments before. Jon looks up and tries his best to locate the cloud Brendon’s taking about and then mutters something about it looking more like a rabbit.

“You see rabbits everywhere,” Brendon laughs.

“Bren, you need to do something fun,” Jon scans his face for an answer, even a reply. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Brendon doesn’t do anything; he just continues to look for new clouds shaped as other things. In Brendon’s opinion there’s too many cloud shaped clouds out there. Although his expression isn’t serious, it’s not particularly content or even sad. It looks like he’s thinking, which is what he is doing but his thoughts just don’t come into a logical order to tell him why he’s feeling so down.

Jon stands up and stands out Brendon so he blocks his view of anything in the sky.

“Come roll down the hill with me.”

-

Brendon ended up obliging to Jon’s demands. He rolled down the hill, got covered in grass, laughed until his chest hurt but he still doesn’t feel happy. It feels like something’s missing.

That evening Jon and Brendon have sex. It’s sex, not making love. Jon has commitment problems and he’s not looking for anything serious with Brendon. He says Brendon is free to do as he wants, or do who he wants as the case may be, but the last time Brendon looked a little too friendly at someone, Jon went in to some weird crazy rage thing and made Brendon do it without lube for a week.

Brendon likes Jon an awful lot, he likes the sex, he likes the company, he even like the fact Jon seems to feel protective towards him. Despite all this, Jon doesn’t seem to make him happy. There’s something not quite right with everything between them.

For instance right now, Brendon is lying against Jon, enjoying cuddling after sex; he wants to feel the closeness. Not even sexual closeness; he wants the closeness between boys who are more than just lovers. Except Jon gets up and walks to the bathroom and a few moments later Brendon hears the shower start.

-

The next day in band practice Jon doesn’t turn up. Spencer says that he’s gone out of town for some emergency and they believe him. All three of them. Spencer believed Jon, Brendon and Ryan believed Spencer. It’s not until Jon doesn’t turn up after a month that they start thinking that what they had so stupidly believed was wrong. Jon wasn’t coming back from wherever he was.

The whole thing messes Brendon up pretty badly. Jon’s the only man he’s ever managed to be close to, even if it wasn’t real closeness. To Brendon, Jon was the closet thing to love that he’s ever felt, even if it wasn’t love. Jon didn’t love Brendon and Brendon didn’t completely love Jon. He still feels like he’s been betrayed. He spends most his time crying and Ryan and Spencer always call around to make sure he’s okay and he tells them the same thing each time. He says that he’s okay; he just needs time to sort himself out.

One day, after two months of Brendon having seemingly disappeared on the face of earth and the second month of Brendon living in his own filth in his apartment, Ryan has had enough of Brendon’s refusal to actually talk about his feelings and so he goes over to Brendon’s house, make him change out of his sweatpants into jeans and makes him clean up his house.

“Brendon,” Ryan says, trying to sound sympathetic toward Brendon. “I know that you and Jon were…well, whatever you and Jon were, but that was three months ago now. You need to pull yourself together.”

Brendon just groans in reply as he stuffs another empty packet of malteasers into a bin bag. Ryan gives a sigh of desperation.

“I hate to see you like this Brendon.”
Brendon nods along to what Ryan says, not looking up from the floor.
“Let’s leave the cleaning up for later,” Ryan suggests. “Let’s go to the park?”

-

Ryan and Brendon walk in the park. The same park Brendon and Jon used to come to.
They walk in silence, the sunshine almost blinding then, even through the sunglasses.

“Did you love Jon?” Ryan asks, he was uncomfortable with the silence. Ryan instantly regrets asking because Brendon begins to cry. He sits down on the grass and just begins to sob. Ryan reacts by sitting femur by femur with Brendon. He puts his arm around him and pulls Brendon’s head to have it lean on his upper chest, letting Brendon just cry.

“I miss him, Ryan,” Brendon sniffs and tries to wipe the tears from his face before they soak into Ryan’s T-shirt. “Why did he have to leave me?”

“Bren,” Ryan says rubbing Brendon’s shoulders subconsciously. “We all miss him. You just need to…move on.”

Brendon lies down, looking at the clouds.
“I know,” he mutters. “It’s just hard; I’ve never felt that way before.”
Ryan leans back so he lies next to Brendon.
“How did you feel?”
Brendon blinks back more tears and searches the clouds for shapes. He sees a crocodile. It’s basically a dragon but instead of fire, its more head and teeth shaped. Crocodiles are another generic shape Brendon sees a lot in the sky.
“I don’t know,” Brendon’s voice sounds muffle and it breaks slightly at the end. “I didn’t love him, that’s for sure.”
They share a silence for a moment where Brendon tries to think of a way to explain how he felt.
“He’s the only one I was ever close with. He controlled me,” Brendon explains, sadness in his voice. “Remember that time I was talking to you and he thought we were flirting?”
Ryan nods as he faintly recalls Jon kicking up a fuss.
“He just…” Brendon breaths deep to keep his composure. “Maybe I didn’t need him as much as I thought I did.”

-

Over the next couple weeks Ryan and Brendon spend a lot of time in the park. Brendon begins to get perkier and he cheers up considerably. Ryan finds himself falling for Brendon.

One day in the park, they lie in a boat on the lake, fishing. They both lying side by side taking in the sun, nothing has bitten in a long time. Ryan holds a cigarette in his hand.

“Ryan,” Brendon says quietly, with his eyes closed beneath his sunglasses. “You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“As if you’ve never,” Ryan laughs as he blows out the smoke from his last drag. “I saw you with…”
He trails off before he says the taboo name. Ryan can hear Brendon sigh.
“Jon,” Brendon says sadly. “Ryan, you can say his name.”
Ryan looks at Brendon over his chest and feet to Brendon who’s looking back.
“I don’t know, Ryan,” Brendon laughs slightly nervously. “I think I’m over him.”
“What’s inspired this change?”
Ryan can here Brendon smirk as he rocks the boat, trying to lie next to Ryan so his face is above his.
“You have,” Brendon tries to suppress a grin. “You’ve help me a lot Ry.”
Ryan beams at Brendon, putting his cigarette out against the side of the boat.
“I have, that’s awesome!” Ryan‘s cheeks start hurting from smiling.
“Ryan,” Brendon looks at Ryan’s chest. “I love you. And I don’t just mean like friendship love. Like real love. I never felt this way with Jon.”
Ryan’s smile becomes wider, wider than Ryan ever thought possible.
“I love you too Bren!”
As soon as the words are out Ryan’s mouth Brendon lowers his head onto Ryan’s and gives him a short, sweet kiss.

It’s the sweetest kiss Ryan has ever had. It was perfect.

-

The next week they need to go clean out Jon’s apartment. The tenant wants to sell it on and he’s not willing to wait until Jon comes back, if he comes out.

They throw out everything. The mouldy food he left, the shampoo and soap he left, the clothes. No one wants the clothes. Especially not Jon, the whole thing is quite emotionally draining. He refuses to go into the bedroom, there’s too many memories in there.

Ryan says he’ll go clean up while Brendon cleans out the fridge. He’s left a cartoon of milk in there, which has exploded and has chunky yellow milking seeping out the top. There’s some cheese which is completely covered in mould. There’s even some strawberries, or what Brendon assumes are strawberries because right now it’s just a mess of mould and fluff. He continues to throw things into the bin bag until he hears Ryan saying his name as he walks through the door, he’s holding a piece of paper.

“What’s that?” Brendon stands up, his back giving a few clicks on his way to straighten up.

“I don’t know,” Ryan says and then holds it out to Brendon. “It’s for you.”

Brendon’s breath hitches in his throat and he takes the paper from Ryan’s hand. For a moment he just looks at his name scrawled on it. Jon’s writing, it’s a letter from Jon. Ryan looks at Brendon, waiting for him to open. Brendon looks to Ryan for reassurance and Ryan gives an uncertain smile. Brendon reluctantly unfolds the paper and on it there’s a hurried note.

Listen Brendon, I’m sorry for what I’m about to do. I just want to you to understand that I have to do this. I can’t stay in Vegas, I’m not happy here. I just feel like there are bigger things for me out there. Don’t get me wrong Brendon, the time we spent together was amazing and I love you, like real love Bren and I don’t want to hurt you. I hope you understand. I hope more than anything that you find happiness B, I want you to be happy. You were never happy with me, I know there was always something missing from out relationship. Just be happy please, for me?
Maybe I’ll come back and I hope if I do we can still be friends.
Just please don’t be too mad.
Love Jon x

“Brendon?” Ryan says after Brendon screws the letter up and throws it away. “What did he say?”

Brendon doesn’t look up immediately look up, he wipes the tear away that’s forming in the corner of his eye.

“He said that he wasn’t happy in Vegas and that he loved me and he might come back.”

“Oh,” Ryan says sadly. “Well Bren, if you want to…wait for him…”

Brendon shakes his head.
“No,” Brendon takes a couple steps towards Ryan. “Why would I want to when I’ve got everything I want right here?”

He pulls Ryan to him and gives him a short wet kiss.

“Why would I wait for Jon, when I love you?” Brendon grins as Ryan pulls him in for another kiss.

“I love you too Bren.”

-

The next day Brendon and Ryan lie in the park, watching clouds. They hold hands as they look for shapes. Every cloud Brendon sees is heart shape. The heart is a pretty generic shape, except it’s a nice kind of generic. Brendon points it out to Ryan and Ryan grins at him.

“You see heart everywhere,” Ryan laughs. Brendon fills the space between him and Ryan and gives him a chaste kiss. He then pulls away and smirks.
“Only when I’m around you.”

Title:Little boys who play with fire get burnt [13/13]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:pg-13
Pairing:Ryden, Rywalk
POV:Ryan’s
Summary: Ryan works for a magazine, he doesn't feel apprecited and always ends up with the worse articles to write like, ever. At the moment the only thing that makes his day worth while is the sexy Jon Walker who keeps him company at lunch. That's until his boss, Chantal, puts him on a job to seduce famous singer, Brendon Urie. It's makes Ryan's world a bit crazy. Make that a lot crazy.
Disclaimer:FAKE FAKE FAKE
Author Notes: This chapter is dedicated to sinfulxtragedy for FC and for general awesomeness and psychoticsmile for helping me make this ending more epic and being like super duper supportive :D Thanks for everyone who's commented this all the way through, especially poprockbomber, kingsofnothing and obviously xthanewcancerx, those two lovely girls who have the dedication and anyone who I've had long funny conversations with, like peacexlovexpatd. I've loved writing this so much just because of you guys. So it's the last chapter guys, I hope you love it just as much as I want you to. I'll be posting an epilogue too if you're interested.

Previous Chapters.

Chapter Thirteen.

It rains on the way to Brendon’s apartment. It’s as if God is trying to drown me for wronging Brendon. I don’t need god to make me feel bad. Eventually I get there and I’m soaked to the bone. The doorman lets me in but reception won’t let me up so see him without Brendon calling down in advance to say I’m coming. I call him and he comes down to see me.

“Ryan?” he walks hastily over to hug me. “What’s wrong?”
I push away from his hug and look at my feet.
“Ryan?” Brendon lifts my chin with his hand.
“Brendon, I’ve done something bad,” Brendon lifts an eyebrow at this.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
I swallow in an attempt to fight back the tears.
“No, listen Brendon. I’ve not be honest with you,” I feel my eyes burn as a tear forms in the corner of my eye. “I’ve been working with Chantal on a story about you. I’m only with you for the story.”
Brendon takes a step away from me. “What?”
I let the tear fall and I look down as it falls off the end of my nose.
“Chantal told me to go find some dirt on you to write about for the magazine,” I try to explain, trying to keep my voice from breaking. “I started dating you because of that.”
“So you were lying?” Brendon sounds hurt, extremely hurt.
“I first I was,” I try to reach out for his arm but he pulls away from me. “But I really mean them now.”
Brendon sighs and I can’t bare to look up at him.
“Brendon, I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to hurt you…” I stutter. “I love you.”
“Bullshit,” Brendon whispers. “Get out of here.”
I take a step towards him.
“Ryan!” he shouts. “Don’t make me call security.”
I exhale and with it comes all my tears, I go outside and I sit on the steps bawling my eyes out, over everything that’s happened in the last few weeks. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I hear a familiar voice.
“What’s wrong Ryan?” I feel Spencer take a seat next to him. “Have you and Bren had a fight?”
I continue to sob, trying my best to get the story out in small little broken sentences. I don’t think Spencer could understand me properly.
“You and Bren made a sex tape…and it got out,” Spencer tries his best to paraphrase my rambles.
I nod my head and wipe away some more tears falling down my face.
“You’re such an idiot,” Spencer complains. “It’s been quite obvious that you and Brendon should be together from the start and you just have to go fuck it up, don’t you? That was stupid.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes and then Spencer sighs.
“You should talk to Jon,” Spencer suggests. “He could stop the story going forwards.”
I wipe my eyes and look at Spencer as if he’s crazy.
“How could Jon…?”
“His dad like owns the magazine so surely he can stop things from happening.”

So that’s what Jon does for the company. Nothing; he just hangs around his dad’s work all day. I shake my head and I say that I couldn’t possibly call Jon in the state I’m in. I hear Spencer sigh.

“I haven’t spoken to Jon for three years,” I see him slide the phone out his pocket. “Maybe I should change that.”
Spencer dials a number, seemingly forlorn and I see him speak. The second he starts to talk he breaks down. I try my best to work what’s happening but Spencer’s too far away for me to be able to even lip read.

Spencer hails down and cab and beckons me towards him. I run over and we both pile into the cab. Spencer hangs up on Jon and tells the man to head over to my work.
“Spencer what’s going on?” I say as I watch buildings and cars go past the window.
“I’m not completely sure myself,” Spencer smiles a little to himself. “Jon says he’ll see what he can do.”
“Are you mad at me?” I ask cautiously.
“No, I’m furious,” Spencer smirks. “You hurt my best friend but I also know you’ve made him happier than he has been in a long, long time and he needs you and you need him so we need to clean this little fucking mess right up.”
Spencer looks moodily out the window for a moment before turning to give me a glare.
“Plus if you hurt him again, I’m breaking your legs.”
I look at him briefly and give a nervous laugh but somehow I don’t think he’s joking. I turn back to the window, I watch people go by. All these people may buy the next copy of Coutura. All these people will know about the video. I bite my lip to stop myself from crying as we pull up to my office block. We jump out the car and I follow Spencer, who’s briskly walking into the building. I’m a couple seconds behind him and when I get through to reception I see Spencer stop dead. He’s looking across the reception to Jon. They look at each other for a moment, as if testing the waters before Jon takes a step forwards and Spencer ends up running to him and then meet somewhere in the middle and they begin to kiss each other. Not just a small kiss, a complete movie type kiss with the build up and the passion of it. I see Spencer pull away and say something and Jon shakes his hand and smiles sweetly, looking into Spencer’s eyes and tells him something before they begin to kiss again.

Eventually they break apart and Jon beckons me over.
“I’m sorry Ryan,” he smiles, not smirks, genuinely smiles at me and he called me Ryan, not Ross. “For being sure a twat.”
“That’s fine Jon,” I try to hurry him along. “Is there anything you can do with the Brendon article?”
Jon bites his lip.
“I can stop the article from going forwards,” then he smirks at me. “It might be hard getting the porn back though.”
I jump Jon and hug him tight.
“Thank you Jon, it means a lot,” I whisper in his ears
-

Needless to say, Spencer and Jon got back together. They were both sorry for what they did and they found it in their hearts to forgive one another. It just makes me sick when they start talking cute.
“I hate fucking frisky homosexuals,” I say bitterly when they kiss by my desk.
“Jealousy Ross,” Jon winks. “Never a good thing.”
Spencer kisses Jon one more time before speaking to me.
“Have you spoken to Brendon yet?” I scoff at this suggestion.
“Spencer, are you stupid? He made it quite clear he wants nothing to do with me.”
Spencer shakes his head and mumbles something about being stubborn to Jon.
I pick up a piece of paper that comes out my printer and I close how my computer. I get out the chair and push past the gay boys who have taken it upon themselves to constantly keep me company at my desk whilst making out with each other.
“What’s that Ryan?” Spencer points to the piece of paper I’m holding and I hold it up in the air to show him and I smile.
“A letter a resignation,” I grin. “I’ve had it with this shithole. No offence Jon.”
“None take, it’s my dad’s not mine,” Jon holds up his hands in surrender.
“What are you going to do instead?” Spencer says with alarm in his voice.
“I don’t know,” I shrug my shoulders. “I figure I’m going to move back to Las Vegas and work for the equivalent of the New York Times there.”
Jon laughs and shakes his head. “That means I’ll never be the newspaper there again.”
I laugh and raise a hand to them to say goodbye. I walk over to Chantal’s office and let myself in. I slide the letter across the table at her.
“What’s this?” she says as she picks it up to read.
“My letter of resignation,” I explain. “I hope you don’t mind.”
She finishes reading it and shrugs her narrow shoulders.
“Whatever.”
I leave the office, feeling as though a weight has been taken off my shoulders.

-

Jon calls out the checklist one more time before we leave my apartment.
“Cupboards?”
“Check.”
“Wardrobe?”
“Check.”
“Fridge?”
“Oh, I better throw the milk away.” I go and I empty what’s left in my fridge into the bin next to it, then I take the bin bag out and give it to Jon to throw down the garbage shoot.
“DVDs and CDs?”
“Check.”
“Condoms?”
“What?”
“I don’t know, I just want to shake it up a little.”
I hit his belly playfully and he recoils at the contact.

Over the past week, since the whole mess with Brendon, me and Jon have actually become like really good friends. He’s helping me move out and offered to drive me to the airport. I don’t actually own that much stuff so my whole life fits in to two suitcases.

We take my crap downstairs and we throw everything into Jon’s car.
“Are you sure you have everything?” Jon asks while he scans my face as if I’m meant to find some sort of hidden meaning in the question.
“Yes, I have everything,” I say impatiently. “Lets go, otherwise I’ll miss my flight!”

The trip to the airport passes fairly quickly. We don’t talk much but the silence isn’t awkward. When we get there Jon helps get my suitcases out and pulls one along for me to the check-in. I hand my passport over to the woman at the desk and she smiles at me like she’s been trained to do. She asks me if I’m travelling on my own and I tell her that I am and she gives me a window seat. Then we load my luggage on and it’s taken away and I’m left with just a side bag to take onto the plane with me. Jon’s looking at my phone and he tells me that my plane doesn’t leave for another hour and a half so there’s no rush. We go and sit on some seats and watch the screens dotted around the room looking for changes or whatever. Then Jon announces that he’s going to buy a drink and he’d be back in a minute.

I tap my toes impatiently on the floor below me. I’m quite nervous about leaving New York to go back to Las Vegas but I guess at least I’ll be back around family and friends. I feel Jon come back and sit next to me and I ask him if he got anything for me.

“It’s not Jon.”
I turn so quickly that my eyes go all funny and it takes a moment for them to focus on Brendon sitting next to me.
“Brendon! What are you doing here?”
“I think you’re actually a genius. Through you being stupid you actually managed to get my best friend back together with his ex-boyfriend and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.”
I smile to myself and nod. At least something good came out it all. We sit in silence for a while, Brendon just twiddles his thumbs and I play with the zip of my bag.
“Look,” I say breaking the silence. “I’m really sorry.”
Brendon nods his head but doesn’t look up from his hands.
It goes back to being silence and I need to breathe deep to stop myself from crying. I can feel tears building up and I blink a few times to try to bring them back. I thought I wouldn’t have to face this again when I moved away. I thought I could just forget about New York and the boy I love.
“You really hurt me,” Brendon clears his throat. “I don’t know what about our relationship was genuine and what was real, if any.”
I swallow hard, trying to get rid of the lump that’s stuck in my throat. I feel a tear trickle down my face and I open my mouth to take but nothing comes out.
“Can you even tell me that any of it was real?” Brendon says hopefully, his voice breaking slightly.
I nod as another tear falls down my face.
“Bren…” I begin; my mouth dry and my heart racing. “Nothing was fake. All the feelings I felt was real. It was just maybe actually…bothering with you at the start which wasn’t completely real, and even then I felt things.”
Brendon leans forward and puts his head in his hands. He stays there for a few moments before letting out a big sigh.
“Then why did you do what you did?” Brendon’s voice is fully broken now and it’s quite clear that he’s crying also, except I can’t see his face.
“I don’t know,” I half laugh. “I was just so concerned about being recognised as a good writer and to get somewhere in my life. But I’ve realised there are more important things in New York to care about.”
“What’s that?” Brendon’s voice is hopeful and I’m pretty sure he knows what I’m going to say.
“Love,” I wipe a tear that’s making its way down my nose. “You, Brendon. You’re one of the only things that has made me truly happy and I even managed to fuck that up.”
I run my hands through my hair, unsure of what he’s going to say. I lean my head back onto the top of the chair, with my eyes closed.
“You haven’t fucked it up, Ryan.”
My head jerks forward to see him and he’s turned his head to look at me.
“I haven’t?”
Brendon smiles weakly at me.
“No,” he leans up to be shoulder to shoulder with me. “Your face is too pretty to not have it in my life.”
I smile and wipe away a couple tears forming at my eyes. Brendon leans over to kiss me. I smile into the kiss because honestly, this is probably the best I’ve felt since everything happened. Brendon pulls away and he grins at me.
“Now what’s this about you moving to Vegas?” Brendon smirks and I suddenly remember I’m going to have to leave him.
“Oh, Bren…” I say solemnly. “I’m moving back home. I thought there was nothing for me in New York.”
I feel like I’m going to cry again. I’ve only just got Brendon back and now I have to leave him. While I’m reeling into depression, Brendon begins to laugh at me.
“You’re right,” he laughs. “There isn’t anything for you here. I'm glad your moving to Vegas.”
I frown, feeling like I’m missing something.
“What about you? You're glad I'm moving?”
Brendon stops laugh and he gives a crooked grin.
“Well, living in Vegas wouldn't be fun without you,” Brendon bites his lip, waiting for my reaction.
"You mean...?"
"I'm moving to Vegas too."
I blink back the tears, this time happy tears, and basically pounce on Brendon to give him a hug. We break apart and I look at Brendon, a smirk playing on my lips.
"You know, I really have to use the toilet," I say sugesstively, winking as I do.
Brendon laughs and stands up and he drags me long with him. I look around and I see Spencer and Jon cuddling on a couple seats on the row behind us and they start to cheer at us.
Brendon drags me to the toilet and we have some rather wonderfully dirty sex that if I ever see my favourite scarf ever again, I will simply combust with shame.

Title:Little boys who play with fire get burnt [12/13]
Author: handsom3lady
Rating:pg-13
Pairing:Ryden, Rywalk
POV:Ryan’s
Summary: Ryan works for a magazine, he doesn't feel apprecited and always ends up with the worse articles to write like, ever. At the moment the only thing that makes his day worth while is the sexy Jon Walker who keeps him company at lunch. That's until his boss, Chantal, puts him on a job to seduce famous singer, Brendon Urie. It's makes Ryan's world a bit crazy. Make that a lot crazy.
Disclaimer:FAKE FAKE FAKE
Author Notes: This chapter is dedicated to xthanewcancerx for SC because psychoticsmile cheated, but she still get the dedication for reading over my business. Thanks for the love and comments, hope you enjoy this :)

Previous Chapters.

Chapter Twelve.

I wake up to a knock at the door. I open my eyes carefully, the sun shining through the windows making them ache. I stumble out of bed, feeling my way around furniture towards the door.
“Hello?” I say as I open the door, as if answering the phone. My door swings open to Brendon; he’s looking down at his phone and doesn’t notice I’m there for a good thirty seconds.
“Ryan!” he beams at me. “You’re awake! I tried calling but you didn’t answer so I figured I’d come as see you.”
I smile at him, yeah I’m annoyed at being woken but there could be worse things to be woken up by.
“So do you want to go for a walk?”
I nod and I beckon him into my apartment.
“Wait!” I suddenly realise my place is a mess. “Just wait there a moment.”
Brendon looks confused as I close the door in his face and I scramble to throw things in the bin and to put all clothes in a laundry basket, then I come back to the door and I let him in.
“Let me just get dressed,” I run into my room and put on the first clothes I find, a cowboy shirt and some skinny jeans. I look fierce as always. I go back into the living room and Brendon is actually sat watching cartoons. “How old are you? Five?”
“Six actually,” Brendon smirks. “Are you ready?”
I nod and Brendon switches off the TV.
“Central park then,” he offers my arm for me to link. I laugh but I take the arm anyway. Brendon puts on his best British accent. “This way, Sir.”

-

When we get to the park the suns beating down on us hard and I almost break out in a sweat. Almost. Me and Brendon walk along the path, Brendon has a pair of RayBans on, either to shield his eyes or to hide his identity. We walk along, hand in hand. I’m surprisingly fine with the hand holding. Brendon is rambling on about something I’m not listening to, instead I watch him talk and I notice all the little details about the way he takes. His eyebrows wiggle a lot, like a hell of a lot, it’s quite cute though. Occasionally Brendon will look over at me at say “does that make sense?” or “do you get me?” I just nod and laugh and smile. Eventually we end up sitting on a bench by the lake they have there. Or pond, either way it’s pretty big. We sit on the bench just looking out across the pond, there’s little kids feeding the ducks, old couples dotted around on the other benches, young couples walking around. Brendon’s still talking and I just nod along, looking at the sun reflected in the lake. A duck swims across the reflection and I snap out my trance.
“Ryan, I’m scared,” Brendon states.
“Why are you said Bren?” I say absently.
“I think there’s a good chance,” I hear him swallow. “That I’m falling in love with you.”
“What?” I block out the screaming voice in my head telling me to run away from the situation
“I think I love you Ryan,” Brendon starts to fidget next to me.
“Wow,” I almost whistle. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Brendon frowns as he looks down at his hands.
“Just forget about it.”
So we drop the subject. I begin to talk about work and Brendon is wonderful and listens to me rant about Chantal not giving me nice stories and Jon and how he doesn’t talk to me at lunch.
Eventually we end up at his place, making out. I can feel myself getting hard and I’m preparing myself to have sex and suddenly Brendon pulls away from me.
“Shit,” he mumbles. “Ryan, I need to go. I was meant to be at the studio half an hour ago.”
He gets up and rushes out. “I’ll be back in a little while, if you want to stay.”
He kisses me quickly goodbye and I’m left in Brendon’s penthouse with an erection. On my own.

We all know what happens next, I decide to have a posh one. Just to keep things clean. If you get what I mean.

-

I got a call from Chantal on my way home. She wants to know if I got anything because if I do, she wants to run it in the next edition of the magazine.

I get home and check my answering machine, no new messages of course. I look around for something to do and I see Chantal’s camera lying on the table. I flick through the pictures I took from when I was at Brendon’s house. Then I watch the video for a second before getting all embarrassed and flicking over to the next picture.
The next picture being the one of Brendon asleep. I smile to myself while I remember how much I enjoyed waking up with him and how nice it was to watch him sleep.

It’s at this point I realise that Lara was right. I pick up the phone and dial his number.
“Hello?” Brendon’s voice fills the line.
“Brendon?” I try my best to keep my voice steady. “I love you too.”

-

The next day at work ruins me. Everything falls apart at work next day, like that cheap bread that crumbles in your hands as soon as you pick it up.

Chantal asks me about evidence. I say that I don’t have any yet. Before I go to lunch I stupidly, very stupidly, leave the camera lying on my desk. I look back in hindsight and it was a stupid thing to do.

So I get back from Lunch, checking my e-mail, I even check the junk mail because I’m that bored. The only question left is, do I want that penis enlargement they offer me? I lean back on my chair and rub my eyes trying to wake up and I get a bottle of water out my desk. It’s when I put my bottle next to my computer that I first realise something, something that makes me feel sick; the camera’s gone from my desk. I check all my draws to make sure I haven’t put it in any of them and I can’t find it anywhere. I lean forward on my elbow and moan into my palms.

It turns out Chantal had walked past and seen it and had a look and she found the recorded sex.

Chantal comes over and tells me good work and that I’m off the article. I don’t need to worry about it now that I’ve done the hard part. Someone else is typing the article up. She thanks me for my efforts and then just leaves me at my desk.

This story will ruin Brendon. I can’t believe I’ve done this to him.

There’s only one thing left to do and that’s to tell him and apologise and hope for the best.