Ryan had his head resting on Brendon’s arm as he traced patterns into Brendon’s strong chest. Brendon was absent-mindedly playing with Ryan’s hair as they both bathed in the afterglow. Ryan twisted his head up to look at Brendon, who leaned down to place a kiss on Ryan’s forehead. Ryan nuzzled against Brendon’s arm, happiness practically radiating off of him.
Brendon resumed running his hands through Ryan’s hair, allowing himself to get lost in his thoughts until they heard a sharp knock on the door. Brendon let out a quiet shriek and dove under the covers. Ryan giggled and shook his head, looking back to the door as it opened. Spencer entered the room, casually leaning against the wall.
“Hey, Ry. I just wanted to let you know we’re getting ready to-“ He suddenly broke off, staring at the bed.
“For the love of God, Brendon. Hiding under a sheet doesn’t make you invisible. I can see you.” Brendon poked his head out from under the sheet, wiggling his fingers at Spencer. Spencer rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that we’re almost to the cabin, so you know, make sure you’re dressed by the time we get there. Which’ll probably be in like, thirty minutes.” Spencer shoved himself off the wall. “So get up. And clothe yourselves. Now,” he commanded as he exited the room, making sure to close the door behind him.
Brendon snatched Ryan’s shirt from his hands, pulling it over his head before he could protest. Brendon bent down to pick up his boxers and Ryan took the moment to appreciate his apple bottom. The smirk on his face gave away his thoughts, and Brendon playfully covered himself with his boxers. Ryan giggled and picked Brendon’s shirt up off the floor, pulling it and the accompanying vest on to himself. Ryan searched the floor for his pants, puzzled by their disappearance.
“Brendon, have you seen my-“ He looked up to see Brendon holding his pants with a mischievous grin on his face. “Brendon Boyd Urie, don’t you dare try and put those on. You are not going to fit into those,” he growled menacingly. “And I really like those pants.” Brendon’s grin grew wider for a moment before he turned and raced out the door. Ryan heard the bathroom door slam as he bolted after him. He jiggled the knob frantically, but it was locked. He slammed his fist against the door.
“Brendon! Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare!” he cried, knowing his efforts were futile. “Brendon! I like those pants!” He tried. He heard Brendon grunting as he attempted to put on the pants. “Brendon! You’re going to rip-“ He was cut off as the door opened to reveal Brendon wearing his pants with a wide grin on his face. He turned on his toe, displaying himself to Ryan, who had to admit, his ass did look really good in his pants. Ryan scowled at Brendon anyway. “You are so lucky you didn’t rip them,” he growled. Brendon smiled and started towards Ryan.
“I knew I could fit in-“ He was stopped by a sharp ripping sound as he extended his leg to take a step. Brendon looked at Ryan with panicked eyes. Ryan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Just take them off,” He said simply. Brendon quickly dropped the pants, handing them back to Ryan. Ryan took them and examined the rip, which was barely a centimeter wide. He looked back up at Brendon, who was hanging his head in remorse. A small smile played at Ryan’s lips as he lifted a finger to tip up Brendon’s chin. Brendon met his eyes, his chocolate ones filled with sorrow and regret. Ryan smiled.
“I’m not mad at you, Brenny,” he said quietly. He leaned forward to give Brendon a soft kiss. He pulled away after a few moments. “Now. Go put your pants on,” he said to Brendon. He turned and Ryan made sure to smack his ass as he walked away. Brendon let out a quiet yelp and turned to playfully glare at Ryan before disappearing into the bedroom.
Ryan looked down at his pants and sighed before pulling them on. “Damn your apple bottom,” he mumbled. Brendon stuck his head around the corner. “I’m sorry!” Ryan laughed. “It’s meant for sex, Brenny. Not trying on my clothing.” Brendon stuck his tongue out at him and disappeared again.
The rip wasn’t noticeable, so he figured he could get away with wearing them for today before he had to fix them. Brendon emerged a few moments later, his own pants now on him. He walked forward and twined his fingers through Ryan’s.
“I’m sorry, Ry,” he said, biting his lip as he stared at their hands. “Brendon. It’s fine,” he said. The younger man stared at him for a long moment, still chewing on his lip. Then he let go of Ryan’s hand and flung his arms around him instead.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he asked. Ryan chuckled.
“Nope. Never,” he smirked. Brendon pulled away and feigned heart break.
“Fine. But don’t expect me to love you down tonight then,” he smirked as he walked into the kitchen. Ryan rolled his eyes and followed him.
The first thing he noticed was Jon, who was sitting at the small table, glaring at Ryan. Ryan stopped, leaning against the counter, glaring right back at Jon. Jon was one of his best friends and he loved him, but he didn’t have to act so butt hurt by his and Brendon’s rekindled relationship. He was interrupted from his glaring match with Jon by a finger poking him in the ribs. “You want eggs, Ry?” Brendon asked, looking at him curiously. Ryan gave him a small smile. “Sure, Bren. Eggs are fine.” Brendon smiled, looking over at Spencer, who was currently transferring two eggs from a pan to a plate.
Brendon waited until the eggs had safely made it to the plate before launching himself at Spencer, who barely managed to catch him. Brendon climbed up Spencer’s solid figure, wrapping his legs around Spencer’s waist and his arms around his neck.
“Hi, Spence,” he cried gleefully, resting his chin on the top of Spencer’s head. Spencer sighed.
“What do you want, Brendon?” he asked. Brendon pouted down at Spencer.
“Why do I have to want something? Can’t I just say hi to my bestest friend?” he asked as he unwrapped one arm from Spencer’s neck and grabbed his plate of eggs. Spencer sighed again.
“Hi, Brendon,” he said. Brendon leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Spencer’s cheek.
“Thanks, Spencey,” he said as he untangled himself from Spencer. He skipped over to Ryan and handed him the plate of eggs. “Breakfast, my good sir,” he said, bowing low as he handed it over. Spencer turned back to the counter and stared at the empty spot where his eggs had been sitting moments ago before sighing.
“I hate you,” he complained as he pulled two more eggs out of the carton. He fried them quickly and put them on a fresh plate, turning to glare at Brendon, who just smiled in return. Then his eyes flitted to something just behind Spencer’s head and his expression turned to one of horror. He let out a scream, pointing at the wall behind Spencer, who turned, wielding his spatula at the horrifying object. Brendon leapt from his chair, snatching the fresh plate of eggs from the counter and returning to his chair before Spencer turned.
“Brendon, I don’t see-“ he said, turning back to see Brendon grinning, a forkful of egg in his mouth. “Come on, man!” Spencer groaned, throwing the spatula at Brendon, who ducked it and waved at Spencer good-naturedly. Growling, Spencer grabbed another egg, turning back to the pan. He watched Brendon out of the corner of his eye, waiting until he looked back down at his plate.
Spencer turned, cocked his arm back and let loose, hitting Brendon in the center of the forehead. Brendon emitted a girlish squeal as Spencer doubled over in laughter. “Spencer. Mean!” He cried, attempting to wipe off the yellow goo. Ryan, who was laughing as well, stood and got a paper towel and wet it in the sink. He walked back over to Brendon and carefully wiped the egg from his face. When he was done cleaning him off, he pressed a kiss to his temple. Brendon stood and went behind Ryan, wrapping his arms around him and turning him so they were facing Spencer. Brendon glowered at him for a long moment.
“Meanie,” he said, sticking his tongue out. Spencer continued to giggle. “You stole my breakfast, Brendon! Twice! You totally had it coming!” Brendon just rested his chin on Ryan’s shoulder, sticking his tongue out at Spencer. Rolling his eyes at Brendon’s childishness, Spencer turned back to his pan and cracked another egg into it.
Brendon glared at his back, plotting revenge. And then he spied a bag of flour sitting on the counter. He grinned. He crept over and grabbed the bag, quietly opening it before sneaking up behind Spencer. He stretched up on his tiptoes and turned the bag upside down on Spencer’s head, covering him in the white powder. Spencer gasped, whirling around to face Brendon and causing a white cloud to fluff out around him. Brendon giggled. Spencer stopped, wiping flour from his eyes calmly. He reached behind him with one hand, grabbing the bottle of olive oil that he’d been using to grease the frying pan.
“Of course, you know, that this means war,” he said in a monotone before throwing the oil at Brendon. Brendon, however, had seen it coming and ducked out of the way, so the oil ended up covering Ryan instead. Within minutes, the four of them were at a war of sorts. After a while, they ended up doing a two on two battle; Brendon and Ryan vs. Spencer and Jon. They had also managed to use nearly all the food as their ammunition. The floor was covered in the carcasses of once edible food, as were the four men’s’ bodies.
Brendon and Ryan crouched together behind the upturned kitchen table, both gripping a bottle of cheap champagne. Brendon started to shake his, feeling the pressure building up in it. “Ryan,” he whispered. “If I don’t make it, I’ve always loved you,” he mumbled, kissing Ryan quickly as he started shaking furiously. He leapt out from behind the table just as it burst, making sure to aim above Jon and Spencer’s head so the cork wouldn’t hit them and the champagne would flood down on them. In return, he was pelted with overly ripe strawberries.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” he screamed, taking cover behind the edge of the counter, his champagne bottle now empty.
“RYAN!” he screamed and Ryan tossed the second bottle of champagne to him. Brendon quickly shook it up and fired, making sure to soak both Jon and Spencer. “REVENGE IS MINE! VENGEANCE IS MINE! RUE THE DAY YOU STARTED THE WAR ON URIE!” he shrieked, oblivious to the hysterical laughter coming from Ryan. By the time the bus screeched to a stop, all the men were drenched in champagne and were currently fighting over the last bottle of champagne.
The driver stepped through the door leading from the cockpit to the kitchen and stared at the scene before him. The four men froze in their struggle for the bottle; Brendon straddling Spencer, both of them with hands on the bottle and Jon shoving Ryan’s face into the floor as he tried to reach Spencer to help. They all stared at the driver.
“We’ve arrived,” he said simply, shaking his head at the men. “And Mr. Wentz is on his way to the bus,” he added as he stepped back into the cockpit, closing the door firmly behind him.
Spencer and Brendon, formerly enemies in this war, exchanged a look, suddenly becoming allies as they thought the same thing. Together, they took the bottle and faced the door, slowly shaking until they heard the footsteps right outside. Furiously shaking, the champagne bottle exploded just as the door opened, drenching an unsuspecting Pete Wentz with cheap champagne.