Brendon's on tenterhooks for the entire half-hour, and then some. He drinks and drinks and drinks, trying to settle the nerves that make a ruckus in his stomach, but the alcohol only makes it worse.

When Ryan finally arrives, Brendon feels like he's going to vomit. Why does he have to still be so painfully gorgeous? This would be so much easier if I found him ugly now.

He's wearing that fucking dusty rose jacket, the one Brendon saw him in last time, the one Brendon bought him for his birthday four years ago, over a faded band t-shirt that Brendon hadn't remembered losing. He's wearing ripped jeans and his hair is slicked back, and Brendon's drunk ass can't help but stare. It's their first meeting all over again, only this time it's much different.

"Hey," Ryan says.

"Hey," says Brendon, getting to his feet and grabbing Ryan's sleeve. "Drink?"

Without waiting for an answer, he drags Ryan to the bar, his heart pounding. He orders for the both of them, and while they wait, he looks up at Ryan, who smiles, clearly distracted. The music's louder here, so he has to lean in close to talk to him, and the smell of Ryan's cologne punches him in the face with a thousand memories.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or not?" he almost yells, and when he leans back, Ryan shrugs before leaning in.

"My fiancé broke up with me," he says, and Brendon isn't sure how to feel about this.

Ryan's clearly upset about it, and that bothers him; but why? He doesn't care about Ryan or his fiancé or what they get up to. Except he does kind of care about Ryan, and whatever he deserves, it's not that.

"Shit," says Brendon, accepting the drinks from the bartender. "I'm sorry."

Ryan shrugs again, taking the drink from Brendon and drinking it in one go. "Don't be," he tells him, taking Brendon's drink and downing that one too. "I just wanna forget about it for now. Wouldn't be fair on Mikey."

Brendon orders more drinks and they head back to the group, who are now joined by Spencer, someone Brendon hasn't seen for a long time. While Ryan is pounced on by Mikey and greeted by Gerard and Frank, Brendon heads over to Spencer.

"Where's the bride-to-be?" Spencer asks, folding his arms across his chest. "And why's your ex here?"

Brendon rolls his eyes. Out of all of his best friends, Spencer was always the least distrustful of people. To Spencer, everyone always had an ulterior motive, and always wanted something from you. It had taken him a long time to get used to the idea of having Ryan around, so when Ryan left, it had fucked with his perception of how things were.

"Dallon is at home, having a bitch fit because I texted Ryan one time after he pissed me off, and Ryan is here because he rang me after his fiancé dumped him and Mikey demanded that he come down here and party with us. Hey," he adds, as Ryan sits down beside him, a drink in his hand and a Mikey on his other side.

"Hey." Ryan says, and then he says something to Spencer, but Brendon isn't listening; he's hyper-aware of Ryan's thigh pressed against his own, and their elbows would be touching if it weren't for Ryan's arms on the table, his hands wrapped around his glass. "Right, Brendon?"

Brendon blinks, snapping out of whatever daydream he's in. "Hm?" he says, and when Ryan grins, his drunken mind plays it over and over again, torturing him.

Spencer rolls his eyes on Brendon's other side. "Ryan was talking about the time he -"

"Drinks!" Gerard interrupts, bringing over a tray laden with jugs, pint glasses and shot glasses filled with an amber liquid. Brendon shrugs and pours a purple drink into a glass, his eyes meeting Ryan's.

Ryan's mouth twitches as he holds his own glass, and together they drink, their eyes locked. Brendon's first to stop drinking, gasping for breath as Ryan finishes his drink in one go. Unbelievable.

They all sit and talk and drink for another couple of hours, until Ryan pulls his cigarettes from his jacket pocket and jerks his head towards the balcony upon seeing Brendon's quizzical gaze. Brendon nods and follows Ryan outside, where the cool night breeze slaps him in the face and makes him shiver, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

There are more people than he thought on the balcony, but they still manage to find their own corner, and they stand close together as Ryan lights a cigarette. Brendon pops his own cigarette between his teeth and he leans forward so that Ryan can light it for him, his hands cupped around the flame.

"So," Brendon says, taking a drag of the cigarette and looking at Ryan. "your fiancé."

Ryan breathes a laugh, running his free hand through his hair before shoving it in his pocket. "Yeah. That." He looks over at Brendon, who waits patiently for him to continue, and he sighs. "It's kind of funny, really. Well, it's not, not really, but it is a bit." he puffs on the cigarette, watching the smoke plume towards the stars. "Pete was never my fiancé. He was never even my boyfriend."

Brendon stares open-mouthed at his ex, unable to form words. "Wha-?" he shakes his head and tries again. "I don't get it."

"I, uh," Ryan bites his lip, casting his eyes downwards. His face is flushed and he's getting giggly, a telltale sign that he's drunk. "I only told you that Pete's my boyfriend to prove to you that I am worthy of love, and I wanted you to see that I can make someone happy." He looks up at Brendon and shrugs, his next words quiet. "I also kinda hoped that it would make you jealous."

Brendon frowns, trying to make sense of what Ryan's just said. He takes a few drags of his cigarette and tries to organise his thoughts, while Ryan stands there, shuffling from foot to foot. "So the proposal...?"

"That was fake too, but I had no idea he was going to do that." he giggles, covering his hand with his mouth. "What did Dallon say about it?"

Brendon rolls his eyes, really not wanting to think about Dallon right now, especially considering Ryan's confession. "Not a whole lot, actually. He said something like how anyone could want to marry him, I'll never know, but after that he kinda just left it." he shrugs, putting his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray and sighing. "You're an idiot, Ryan. You don't have to fake a relationship to get to me."

He's not sure why he says it, but he knows it affects Ryan by the way the older man goes quiet, staring at him with those big brown eyes of his. He's drunk, he's saying things he doesn't really mean - except he does kind of mean it. Ryan gets to him in a way that nobody else ever has, and nobody else - not even his fiancé - ever will.

"What do you mean by that?" Ryan asks, blinking. Brendon can almost see the cogs in his brain turning at record speed as he tries to figure it out.

"Whatever you want it to mean." Brendon replies, biting his lip.

They lock eyes, and it's like the breath has been stolen from Brendon's lungs. He suddenly has this insane thought: what if I kiss him? But before he can act on that insane thought, Ryan shakes his head, seeming to snap out of it, and he too puts his cigarette out. But they don't go in just yet.

"How is Dallon, anyway?" he says, and Brendon wants to punch himself in the face. He did not just think about kissing Ryan. Fucking dumbass. "You haven't texted me for a few days - which is fine, by the way, I don't mind - I just wanted to know if you were okay - if you two were okay now."

Brendon shakes his head, rubbing his eyes. Thinking about Dallon is exhausting. "He's still mad at me. He won't talk to me, won't sleep in the same bed as me, he won't even look at me. Anyone would think I'd actually slept with you."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Ryan runs a hand through his hair, his hands shaking. "If I'd known -"

"Ryan, it's not your fault. I'm the one that texted you first. It's my fault." he sighs. "I'm kinda glad that I'm staying at Frank's tonight, 'cause Dallon fucking hates it when I'm wasted. Although..." he trails off, glancing over at the doors that lead inside. "I have no idea when Frank will want to leave. Probably never."

"Why don't you stay at mine tonight?" the words are out before Ryan can stop them, but he doesn't take them back. It's just a friendly offer, an offer for a friend, no ulterior motives or anything, Brendon's a friend in need, why shouldn't he help him out? "Only if you want to," he adds quickly, seeing Brendon's stunned reaction. "There's no pressure or anything, I just thought that since I'll undoubtedly be heading out before Frank does, you might wanna go to bed earlier, I don't know. I have a couch I don't mind sleeping on -"

"Yeah, sure." brendon interrupts him, seeing his face flush with relief. "If you're sure, of course. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything."

"No, you're good. I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't okay with it, would I?" Ryan's face turns redder, if that's even possible, and Brendon feels like a teenager again, asking his mom if he can have a sleepover. "You're deciding when we leave, though. Mikey invited you, I'm just a tagalong."

Brendon rolls his eyes and begins to walk back inside, a small smile on his face. When he gets back to the others, there are a couple of guys that he doesn't recognise, but Mikey and Frank are still there, along with Spencer. Gerard is nowhere to be seen.

"Gee's getting shots," Frank says from his spot on Mikey's lap, answering Brendon's unspoken question. He narrows his eyes at both him and Ryan, who's standing behind him all of a sudden. "You two were a long time."

Brendon shrugs, taking a seat next to a guy with long, scruffy hair and a stubbled jaw. "We were just talking about stuff while we smoked. No big deal, man."

"What stuff?" Mikey asks, his eyes glazed over. He rubs his nose absentmindedly, his eyes not really focussing on anything in particular.

"Oh, y'know," Brendon waves a hand, avoiding looking at Ryan, who sits on his other side. "Just Ryan's fake fiancé -"

Ryan interrupts him, smirking. "And Brendon's asshat of a fiancé."

"Right?!" Gerard's back, and he's holding a tray crammed with shots. He sits beside the scruffy guy and downs two of the shots in quick succession. "What the fuck is up with that guy?"

Brendon scowls at Ryan, who sticks his tongue out a little. "There is nothing wrong with my fiancé, thank you very much." defends Brendon, but as he says it he knows it's a lie. Ignoring everyone's 'yeah sure' looks, he gestures for Ryan to stand up and he squeezes by, heading to the bar. He needs more alcohol.

He doesn't expect anyone to follow him, so he jumps when he hears Ryan say, "Three on three?"

It's a thing they used to do when they were out drinking together, and whenever one of them said it, it meant that they had to simultaneously drink three shots of tequila each, back-to-back, as fast as they can.

Brendon nods and Ryan grins, ordering six shots of tequila from the bartender. They arrive quickly, and Ryan counts down from three. Together, they knock back the shots, one after the other, and once they're done, Brendon's head is spinning. It's a terrible idea, but when Ryan suggests that they do it again, he agrees.

Ryan always has the best terrible ideas.

~

It's something like 3am, or maybe it's 4am, when they stumble through Ryan's front door. Brendon leans against the wall to take his shoes off, unable to stop his giggling. Ryan closes the door and takes his shoes off too, and then he looks up at Brendon, whose giggles fade as they lock eyes.

There's been this unspoken thing between them all night, although that could've just been the sheer amount of alcohol they'd been drinking. Either way, every touch they'd accidentally shared had been electric, and Ryan can't stop thinking about it.

He's still reeling from Pete's betrayal, and he's feeling reckless.

The thing about Ryan is that he gets dumb ideas when he's drunk. One time, when he was eighteen, he decided he'd try and slide over the hood of his dad's truck, breaking his arm in the process. His excuse was that he wanted to 'pretend he was in a movie'. Another time, in the same year in fact, he thought it would be fun to jump out of his bedroom window into the snow outside. He was fine when he landed, but he got stuck and his dad had to dig him out in the middle of the night.

But this idea, the one he has in his head right now, is the dumbest idea he's ever had. And without thinking about it, he does it.

He steps forward, taking Brendon's face in his hands, and he kisses him hard on the mouth.