Chapter Text
The audience was buzzing. Emotions were running high and there was an almost electric feel to the atmosphere. Standing behind the curtain, Brendon threw Ryan a grin. Ryan grinned back. It was a moment that they loved, that shared moment just as everything goes dark before the insanity and wonder of the actual concert.
The lights went down and the audience fell silent. Tension built.
And then the curtain dropped.
The scream from the crowd could have deafened Ryan but the music kicked in, and he lost himself in the sound of it. He heard Brendon yell into the crowd – he wasn’t sure what exactly, but it was probably something to the effect of “We’re Panic! At The Disco, and this is the sound of Pretty Odd!”
The tour was almost at an end; it was probably the best of their lives. They were in England and would be heading back to America the very next day; this was their last concert.
The audience shouted and screamed and stomped their feet and clapped their hands, and Brendon’s laughter sounded out over it before he launched into their first song, his voice loud and beautiful and confident.
The band threw themselves into it and gave the crowd as good a performance as they possibly could. They were vibrant and colourful, filling the room with an air of freedom – the crowd felt it and let themselves go, altogether as one they danced and sang back to the band, filled with happiness.
Brendon danced all across the stage, shaking his hips and grinning out into the crowd in an almost obnoxious manner. They loved it. Ryan watched him, a smile on his face. As Ryan played, he couldn’t take his eyes off Brendon. When Brendon turned to beam at Ryan he laughed too loudly, interrupting the song briefly. Brendon moved across the stage and threw his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, and Ryan’s voice joined Brendon’s in the microphone.
The crowd couldn’t stop screaming, singing along at the tops of their voices, making themselves hoarse but too happy to care.
Brendon planted a kiss on Ryan’s cheek and everyone in the room went wild. Brendon felt like he was walking on air and he pulled away from Ryan, dancing again. But when he reached the opposite side of the stage, he turned back to Ryan and blew him another kiss. Ryan laughed. Brendon bowed, theatrically.
Spencer was practically out of control, playing the drums like it was his intention to beat the Hell out of them. The rhythm he set sounded in the background of everything they played; they played to it while he played to them. He kept them in time and in tune with each other. He was a background played but, God, he was so important.
Jon was towards the side of the stage, mirroring where Ryan stood. But then, Ryan rarely stayed where he was supposed to when Brendon dared Ryan to come to him with his eyes. Jon was happy to just play at the side; he lived off the feel of the audience and the sound of the music, but he wasn’t a ‘character’ like Brendon and Ryan were. He didn’t have their aura of dramatics. He didn’t need it. He was his own player.
Brendon was talking to the audience now, playing off them, begging them for more. His makeup was starting to smudge, giving him a whole new persona to fill, and he did. Launching into ‘Lying is the Most Fun’, he turned to smile suggestively at Ryan, winking and sauntering over.
Is it still me that makes you sweat?
Am I who you think about in bed?
His hand trailed across Ryan’s shoulders as he walked behind him, his mouth coming closer to Ryan’s ear, Ryan’s neck. Under any other circumstance, Ryan would be blushing, hiding his face, but here? Here he could act along. They danced up against one another as they played. The audience was singing along, their entire bodies alive with the moment, surrounded by the music of their favourite band and in awe of the beauty of it all. As the song dropped to instrumental, Ryan could feel Brendon’s lips on his skin. He shivered, turning to face Brendon, and their lips met, crashing together, tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Ryan was still playing, and it was a miracle he could. His knees felt weak. His head was spinning. The crowd was screaming.
All too soon, Brendon pulled away, singing again, and he pressed a quick kiss to Ryan’s nose. Ryan scrunched up his nose, pulling a face at Brendon as his husband started to move away. Brendon stuck his tongue out back at him and the pair laughed.
Let’s get these teen hearts beating faster
Faster
Later, as Brendon sang into the microphone, standing centre stage, Ryan stood next to him, leaning into his space, kissing his neck.
When they were playing, it was as though they had no self-control. The need to be near each other, to touch each other, was unbearable. And they always succumbed to it.
Brendon couldn’t stop the smile on his face. Everyone could hear it in his voice. It was contagious; his happiness was too strong to resist. Ryan grinned into Brendon’s neck before pulling away, strumming his guitar faster and faster.
Drenched in sweat, the four men played louder and louder, building and rising, until it all dropped away, leaving a resounding echo in the room.
The audience’s shouts filled the space as Brendon bowed deeply. His ran a hand through his dripping hair, breathing heavily. “Thank you!” He yelled, “Thank you for everything; it’s been awesome!”
Ryan pulled the guitar off from around his neck and leant it up against an amp. He waved out at the audience and smiled widely at them all, across from him Jon was doing the same, and Spencer was standing up. They all made their way to the front of the stage and bowed. Together.
Making their way off stage, Jon and Spencer started chatting, unable to stop smiling, and Brendon threw an arm around Ryan, pulling him in, not caring that they were both sweaty, or that they smelled awful; that was just how it was after a performance.
They could still hear the crowd hollering up a storm and Ryan turned to look over his shoulder back at them for a final time. Music started up, not their music – other bands, and the crowd began to dissipate, singing to the songs they knew but with less vigour. Ryan could see them all talking to each other, groups hugging, people chattering excitedly to people they knew and people they didn’t. Someone must have started singing, because soon enough the entire room was chanting the chorus to ‘I Write Sins’. Brendon laughed, happily. He looked at Ryan, “Our lives are awesome.”
Ryan could only nod in agreement.
*
The flight back home was awful. Cramped and overheated, they spent the entire time wriggling in their seats, unable to sleep. But finally, finally, they were home.
Touring was amazing. Seeing fans from all over the word was incredible. But nothing compared to being home.
Married life was fantastic, Brendon had discovered. Brendon and Ryan had their own home now. The simple domesticity of it was something that they appreciated infinitely more than an average couple would, they suspected. There was something so calming in coming home together after a concert or a day in the studio.
Sharing chores was good too – until it came to taking out the trash, at which point they would bicker for hours on end over whose turn it was. After a couple of months Ryan had drawn up a two week rota to spare them the effort of fighting. Ryan always cooked, and Brendon always did the washing up. Although they did tend to help each other out: Brendon would hang around the kitchen while Ryan cooked, handing him things and reading out instructions from various recipes, and Ryan would help Brendon dry up the dishes and put them away; they worked well as a team. Brendon hoovered. Ryan cleaned the bathroom. Brendon made the bed. Ryan did the ironing. They were practically a middle-aged couple. Sometimes when they were lying in bed at night one of them would mention it and they’d giggle like teenagers, wrapped in each other’s arms.
One thing about their house was that it was never silent; whether they were signing (Disney duets and rock ballads were their best) or listening to various albums on repeat, music was always playing in their house.
Right at that moment, Brendon was belting out ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ at the top of his voice as he wrestled with the sheet on their bed – he’d discovered that it was a good training technique for his breathing; if he could keep going while trying to get the damn sheet on, then he could definitely get through their set list at concerts while dancing.
Ryan was downstairs, watching TV. Or at least, he was trying to; he couldn’t hear much over Brendon’s singing. He glanced at the ceiling irritably. As if hearing Ryan’s thoughts, Brendon stopped singing. Then, “YESSS!” So, maybe he hadn’t heard Ryan’s thoughts.
When Brendon came bounding down the stairs a moment later, Ryan was expecting him and he smiled at him when he came into the room, “I guess you managed then?”
“Hells yeah,” Brendon grinned. Brendon threw himself down on the sofa next to Ryan and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“Jon and Spencer have invited us out tonight,” Ryan told Brendon, pulling his feet up and tucking his toes under Brendon’s leg.
“Cool,” Brendon said happily.
*
When six o’clock rolled around, the two of them headed over to Jon’s house, where Spencer already was.
Deciding they wanted to eat out, they all agreed on Italian food. They piled into Jon’s car, driving to a small downtown place where they were less likely to be recognised. Not that they minded being recognised, it was just nice to be normal for a bit.
The food was a bit second rate, but they enjoyed themselves never-the-less. Conversation flowed easily; they reminisced about the tour, and talked about the future.
Just as they were getting ready to leave (Jon had even stood up), a young girl – at least fifteen but no more than seventeen – approached the table nervously, “Um,” she said, “Hi.”
The four of them looked up in surprise, then they all smiled, realising who she was. Jon sat back down. “Hi there,” Ryan grinned.
“Sorry I just really love your band could I possibly get an autograph?” She said in a rush, not taking a breath.
Brendon chuckled, “Of course, we’d love to.” Then he frowned, “Do you have a pen and something we could sign?”
She nodded vigorously and held up a small notebook and a biro that she held in her hands. Jon, the nearest to her, smiled and took it off her, flipping it open to the nearest clean page and scrawling his name.
The girl threw a worried glance back at her family, on the other side of the restaurant, before turning to Brendon and Ryan, “I just wanted to say,” she took a deep breath, “That you guys are really brave.” Ryan looked surprised and Brendon raised his eyebrows. The girl carried on, “I mean you- you’re just you. You don’t care what people say about your relationship. Or that fact that you’re gay, or bi, or whatever.” Realising what she was saying, Brendon smiled at her. It seemed to make her more confident and she said the next sentence at a more relaxed pace, “I plan to… ‘Come out’,” – she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers – “To my parents soon. You guys have, well, you’ve inspired me.”
Ryan’s face broke open into a grin, “That makes me really happy to hear,” he told her, “Good luck.”
Brendon nodded, “Yeah, me too. What’s your name sweetheart?” Spencer had signed her notebook and Brendon was now holding it in one hand, pen poised over the paper.
She looked surprised. “Oh! My name’s Ellie!” She’d forgotten to say.
Brendon smiled and began to write something on the page. When he passed the book to Ryan, Ellie watched his eyes skim over it. He smiled and his eyes flicked up to look at Brendon. Then he started to write something too.
Shutting it, he passed it back to her, “Thanks,” she whispered, “Um, so I guess, yeah. Bye, then.”
They all chimed in their goodbyes, wishing her well and smiling.
As she turned away she opened the book, reading their words and walking slowing back to her table.
At the top, Jon and Spencer’s signatures were scrawled, one above the other. Then, underneath, were two more personal notes:
Never be afraid to be who you are – Brendon Urie
Love who you want to love; be who you want to be – Ryan Ross
She span round and grinned at them widely, calling another thank you to them. Ryan grinned and Brendon laughed, “That’s alright; enjoy your life, Ellie!”
Holding the notebook tightly to her stomach, Ellie re-joined her family, slipping into her seat, smiling.
Ryan turned to look at Brendon, breathing out heavily, “That was unexpected!”
“That was awesome,” Brendon corrected.
Ryan nodded, “That too.”