Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Our Success Story
Success has made Ryan Ross a sinner.
Ryan's mother had always told him that sins were for people who didn't know any better. She had said that we knew what sins were because other people did them and things had turned out badly for those people. Good Catholic boys never sinned because they saw numerous examples of what would happen if they did. Ryan knew better. He should have never sinned.
Sins weren't supposed to feel good. They were supposed to eat away at your conscience until you begged for mercy. But then why did Brendon's porcelain skin against his feel so good, so right?
The soft thump of Ryan's pants against the floor rang in his ears. This was the bittersweet sound of condemnation.
Brendon's ragged breaths and deep moans of Ryan's name dripped like saccharine from his lips. This was the sour taste of the apple from the Forbidden Tree.
Ryan's breathy whispers and cries of passion burned like every part of his skin that Brendon touched, licked, sucked, bit. These were the fires of hell burning around him.
Brendon's arms around Ryan's small frame comforted him as they drifted off to sleep. Brendon's hot breath tickled Ryan's neck as Ryan placed his hand on Brendon's back, bringing him as close as possible. This was the embrace of the devil.
At least, that's what Ryan's mother would have believed.
Then again, she would have never believed that someone could write sins, but not tragedies.
But her own son had proved her wrong.
.............................................................................
The next morning, Ryan stood in front of the hotel bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth and wearing only a pair of sweatpants. He heard movement from the bed and saw Brendon walk in shirtless a few seconds later, his hair a mess, but his face a perfect vision.
Brendon wrapped his arms around Ryan's waist and rested his chin on Ryan's shoulder, looking in the mirror at the two of them. Ryan smiled.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making me feel like I'm worth it, like I deserve this...like I deserve you."
"You didn't need me for that."
"I know, but I'm glad you were there. You make everything worthwhile, for me."
"I love you, Ryan Ross."
Brendon turned his head and closed his eyes, resting on Ryan's shoulder. Ryan grabbed Brendon's hands that were around his waist and held them tightly.
"I love you too."
Brendon Urie had finally made Ryan Ross feel successful. And Ryan decided that success had finally made him happy.
Ryan's mother had always told him that sins were for people who didn't know any better. She had said that we knew what sins were because other people did them and things had turned out badly for those people. Good Catholic boys never sinned because they saw numerous examples of what would happen if they did. Ryan knew better. He should have never sinned.
Sins weren't supposed to feel good. They were supposed to eat away at your conscience until you begged for mercy. But then why did Brendon's porcelain skin against his feel so good, so right?
The soft thump of Ryan's pants against the floor rang in his ears. This was the bittersweet sound of condemnation.
Brendon's ragged breaths and deep moans of Ryan's name dripped like saccharine from his lips. This was the sour taste of the apple from the Forbidden Tree.
Ryan's breathy whispers and cries of passion burned like every part of his skin that Brendon touched, licked, sucked, bit. These were the fires of hell burning around him.
Brendon's arms around Ryan's small frame comforted him as they drifted off to sleep. Brendon's hot breath tickled Ryan's neck as Ryan placed his hand on Brendon's back, bringing him as close as possible. This was the embrace of the devil.
At least, that's what Ryan's mother would have believed.
Then again, she would have never believed that someone could write sins, but not tragedies.
But her own son had proved her wrong.
.............................................................................
The next morning, Ryan stood in front of the hotel bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth and wearing only a pair of sweatpants. He heard movement from the bed and saw Brendon walk in shirtless a few seconds later, his hair a mess, but his face a perfect vision.
Brendon wrapped his arms around Ryan's waist and rested his chin on Ryan's shoulder, looking in the mirror at the two of them. Ryan smiled.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making me feel like I'm worth it, like I deserve this...like I deserve you."
"You didn't need me for that."
"I know, but I'm glad you were there. You make everything worthwhile, for me."
"I love you, Ryan Ross."
Brendon turned his head and closed his eyes, resting on Ryan's shoulder. Ryan grabbed Brendon's hands that were around his waist and held them tightly.
"I love you too."
Brendon Urie had finally made Ryan Ross feel successful. And Ryan decided that success had finally made him happy.
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