Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Disheveled

A Failure To Plan Is A Plan For Failure

by indie_chicky 7 Reviews

Temptation: it forces us to stop pretending to be what we want and start being who we are.

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Drama, Romance - Characters:  - Published: 2007/04/11 - Updated: 2007/04/11 - 1115 words

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LONG author's note: So, here's the deal, kids. I'm a moron. Basically. Go back to the first chapter and read the very first words I wrote. No, not the "Ryan Ross has a girlfriend" part, before that. Read the very first sentence in the author's note and tell me what's wrong...Yeah, and I claim to be an educated human being. I just caught that last night and realized what a complete and utter dumbass I was. But I'm not changing it, so just deal with my stupidity. I swear there's no more butchering of the English language (as far as I can tell)

Anyhoo, review this stuff because it makes me happier than the fact that Ryan and Brendon could very well be making out at the second. Okay, not that happy, but it comes close.

Also, go read "After The Rain" if you haven't already and review that as well. It's a little one-shot I wrote, it won't take you long, and I'm really proud of it. Okay that's it. Enjoy!
.........................................................

Brendon could hear them breathing.

In and out. Softly.

They were less than three feet away.

Brendon, sitting on the lounge couch, smacking his gum, listening.
Ryan and Melody, asleep in his bunk, curtains closed.

Cheap whores, the both of them.

Wasn't anyone else bothered by the fact that Ryan had fucked someone in that close of an area? How was that even possible?

Millions of questions running through Brendon Urie's head.

But then came a question in the form of a plan.

So he sat, staring at Jon Walker.

He was alone, reading a magazine, eating cheetos.

The perfect opportunity.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer."

He popped in another cheeto, not even bothering to look up from the article he was reading.

Dammit. Brendon's cover was blown.

"Oh, Jonnnnn..."

Brendon stood up, walked over to his band mate, and sat. Right on his lap.

Jon raised his eyebrows, confused and simply stated.

"I'm not Ryan."

"Ouch, low blow."

"Brendon, would you get your bony ass off me?"

"No. I need your help."

"Does it involve you crushing me?"

"No. It involves us crushing Ryan."

"And why would we do that?"

"For God's sake, Jon, would you stop asking so many fucking questions and just help me?"

Brendon climbed off of his lap and sat down next to him, looking up at the bassist with pleading, puppy dog eyes. Suddenly, it hit Jon what Brendon wanted him to do.

"Brendon."

"Hmm?"

"I'm not making out with you."

"Come on, man!"

Brendon stood up, throwing a mini temper tantrum. Then, he had an idea.

"What if I buy you tickets to the rest of the Bears games for the rest of your life?"

"I don't care if you buy me the entire fucking team! I'm not getting involved in this!"

"But Spencer won't do it! He's Ryan's best friend!"

"Yes and Ryan and I hate each other, is that what you're trying to say?"

"No, what I'm trying to say is that I need to make Ryan jealous and I need you to help me."

"You're ridiculous and I have to pee."

Jon stood up, and walked away as Brendon slumped down on the couch, sulking.

He was feeling so fucking disheveled.

He hadn't felt Ryan's touch in 6 days.

The worst part?

He was missing it more than he had ever missed any girl's.

"You look good."

Speak of the devil.

At that very moment, Ryan walked in the lounge, wearing a pair of jeans and some faded band t-shirt that he had worn and washed so many times holes were starting to form. Brendon sat up a little straighter, but was still sulking. He began to mutter sarcastically.

"What can I say? It's all the sex I've been having."

Ryan chuckled at the remark and looked in the cabinets for something to munch on. When he found a box of Teddy Grahams, he smiled satisfactorily and sat down across from Brendon. Suddenly, something struck him as peculiar.

"You're dressed."

Ryan made a salute with two of his fingers and directed it toward Brendon.

"Welcome aboard, Captain Obvious."

"But why?"

"Well, you see, Brendon, unlike what you are inclined to believe most of the time, this bus is not a nudist colony. Therefore, we wear clothes because some parts of our anatomy are meant to be private."

Ryan was talking to him like he was in fucking kindergarten. And Brendon didn't appreciate it. He spat back smugly.

"You like it when I treat this place like that."

"Oh, clearly not as much as you think I'd like the idea of you and Jon making out."

In an instant, the smug traces of Brendon's facial expression were gone.

"You heard us?"

"Don't be a moron, Brendon. I am intrigued, though, about your plan. Was it 'let's buy matching flip-flops! I know Ryan will want to fuck me then!'?"

"Would you?"

Brendon looked hopeful as Ryan put down the box and walked over to his side of the bus. He straddled Brendon's lap and ran one hand down his body. Brendon groaned, immediately getting hard. He had missed this touch more than he allowed himself to admit. Ryan moved his mouth so that it was inches away from Brendon's ear and whispered.

"I want to fuck you now."

Brendon gulped and stared into Ryan's eyes, burning with fire and passion.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm very serious."

Ryan leaned down, kissing Brendon's exposed neck as he rolled his head back to give Ryan more access. Brendon moved his hand behind Ryan and began pushing up on his shirt, wanting it to come off. He moaned as Ryan found the perfect spot on his neck, biting down softly and sucking on the spot, making sure he left his mark on the younger boy. His lips traveled up Brendon's neck until they almost came in contact with Brendon's. Both boys were breathing heavily as Brendon lunged at Ryan's lips with his own. But Ryan jerked back and simply smirked.

"I said I wanted to fuck you now. I didn't say I was going to."

Ryan gave Brendon a quick peck on the cheek and laughed, getting up and walking back to his bunk. Brendon could hear sheets rustling and a tired female voice purring, "Hey baby. Where'd you go?"

Brendon wanted to tell her where to go.

Any other time, Brendon would have laughed something like this off. It would have been a classic case of "Boys will be boys".

Any other time would not have involved Brendon feeling this way.

Especially for Ryan.

And now the case had become "That boy will be mine."
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