turps

No threat, I did another Panic prompt for this, so this can be my second one. But if you did want Bob/Gerard just say, I'll do two.

Also, I know you have specific ideas of what you like in fic. So I hope this hits the mark a little.

~*~*~*~

“I said no.” Ryan shifted, tucked up his leg, his heel caught on the edge of the couch. “You go, have fun.”

“I want you to come,” Brendon said, pleading, eyes wide and hopeful.

Ryan looked at him, looked away and dipped his head, his hair falling around his face, his attempt at hiding in plain sight. Brendon didn’t leave, just stood his ground, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. He was making the bus shift, just enough that Ryan leaned into the movement, pressed his hand onto the pile of papers at his side, scribbled lyrics and crossed out lines.

They were his excuse for staying in. Holed up on this too small bus and surrounded by things he’d looked at a thousand times. He should have been going stir crazy, but he wasn't. He didn’t care at all, could stay here forever, in this space where he knew everything and everyone.

“I think you need to come out,” Brendon said, and his smile faltered, his bouncing slowing down until he was perfectly still, his hands clasped together.

Ryan shot him a look and then looked away, stared at his notebooks through a curtain of hair. He didn’t need to go out. He’d been there, done that, gave himself to the fans, to the promoters, handing over a little of himself each day. Ryan could only stand to give so much, needed to keep more for himself, wrestle back some of the control he had to give up for this tour.

“Or we could go for a walk,” Brendon smiled again, wide and bright. “It’s nice outside, the moon’s out, perfect for walking. Not that I mean romantic walking in the moonlight, though that would be nice.”

Brendon hesitated, his smile slipping, and Ryan felt guilty because he’d do anything for Brendon; just not tonight. Uncapping his pen, he picked up his notebook, balanced it on his knee and tried to decipher the words the tumbled through his head. He expected to feel the bus move, the swish of the door as Brendon headed out for the company he craved.

Instead, he felt the couch dip, looked up to see Brendon settling next to him, shoes kicked off as he wormed into place, wiggling until his head was against Ryan’s shoulder, his hand resting on Ryan’s thigh.

“I thought I’d stay in tonight,” Brendon said. He looked at Ryan through dark lashes, his mouth curled into a smile. “I could help with the lyrics. If you want.” He tilted his head, pressed his mouth against Ryan’s neck. Butterfly kisses and a reassuring presence, allowing Ryan time to regroup.