Page 54 (Panic! at the Disco)
Jun. 17th, 2007 10:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laughingtaleTitle: Page 54
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wordsaremyfaith
Fandom: Panic! at the Disco
Pairing: Ryan/Jon
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 609
Disclaimer: I do not know these people, this never happened, I am making no money off of anything.
A/N: I was thinking about another fic I'm working on that has Jon/Spencer in it, and my train of thought went a little something like this: Jon is so the type of boy who would bring you flowers on a first date. Spencer, on the other hand, is so the type of boy who'd hate getting flowers anytime, but especially as a romantic gesture. Oh, but you know who'd love getting flowers on a first date? RYAN ROSS. And lo, a plot bunny was born. Thanks topreromantics for the beta!
After Ryan kisses him for the first time, Jon asks him out on a real date.
They’re on tour at the time, so it’s nothing fancy – a burger and fries on the side of the road somewhere, but it’s just the two of them, and that’s enough.
Jon brings Ryan flowers when he “picks him up.” (Picking him up entails knocking on the side of his bunk and calling out, “Hey, Ryan, let’s go!”) They’re roses, of course, and Ryan is delighted. No one’s ever bought him flowers before. Jon worries that it’s cheesy and even blushes a little, but Ryan is quick to assure him that they’re perfect.
He leaves the bouquet lying on his bed when they go eat, figuring he’ll do something with it later.
***
After they’ve eaten, had a french fry fight that threatened to get messy (“No ketchup!” Ryan shouted at the last minute) and kissed each other goodnight, Ryan sits on the edge of the bed with Jon’s roses in his hands. He wonders where Jon got roses in Missouri or Iowa or whatever-the-fuck state they’re in. He closes his eyes and smells them, breathing deep. They smell like hope – a good first date with the promise of more to come.
Dating on the bus is weird, and it’s a little strange to do the same things they always do and suddenly calling it a date, but Jon had the idea and Ryan thinks it’s sweet.
As he changes into pajamas, he lays the bouquet next to him on his pillow. He falls asleep inhaling the scent of roses.
***
Ryan wakes up the next morning to Brendon loudly challenging Spencer to a Guitar Hero tournament. Groaning, he rolls over onto his side, spotting the flowers still lying next to him. He knows that if Brendon finds them, he’ll be mocked for weeks, and if Spencer sees them, he’ll just smirk in that infuriating way of his. Ryan’s not sure which would be worse, but he wants to keep the roses. He grabs a book and presses a few of them between the pages, stems sticking out. Then he takes the book into the bathroom and cuts the stems down. He throws out the rest of the bouquet.
***
Ryan forgets about the roses for a while. He and Jon continue dating, not bothering to hide it from Brendon and Spencer.
The third time they sleep together, it’s in Ryan’s tiny bunk, which isn’t terribly comfortable. It works, though, and it’s better than nothing, for sure. They were lucky enough to have hotel rooms the first two times, but sometimes you just do what you have to.
Afterwards, Jon wraps his arm around Ryan and holds him close. Ryan snuggles in. A few minutes later, Jon has to move the arm he’s lying on, and his hand brushes a book lying nearby.
“What are you reading?” he asks, pulling the book out.
Ryan recognizes it and blushes furiously. “Nothing,” he mumbles.
Jon opens it anyway. On page 54, a dried rose falls out. “You saved them,” he says, smiling at Ryan.
“Yeah, kind of.” Ryan stares at the wall uncomfortably.
“I’m glad,” Jon says, gently moving Ryan’s chin, forcing Ryan to look at him.
“Yeah?”
“It’s sweet.”
“Please don’t tell the others,” Ryan whispers. He doesn’t need Brendon and Spencer thinking he’s a sentimental idiot. Even if it’s – maybe – true.
“Of course not,” Jon whispers back.
Ryan smiles gratefully. His eyes drift closed of their own accord. The last thing he remembers before sleep takes over is Jon saying, “Please don’t be embarrassed. I saved a french fry.”
Author:
wordsaremyfaithFandom: Panic! at the Disco
Pairing: Ryan/Jon
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 609
Disclaimer: I do not know these people, this never happened, I am making no money off of anything.
A/N: I was thinking about another fic I'm working on that has Jon/Spencer in it, and my train of thought went a little something like this: Jon is so the type of boy who would bring you flowers on a first date. Spencer, on the other hand, is so the type of boy who'd hate getting flowers anytime, but especially as a romantic gesture. Oh, but you know who'd love getting flowers on a first date? RYAN ROSS. And lo, a plot bunny was born. Thanks to
preromantics for the beta!After Ryan kisses him for the first time, Jon asks him out on a real date.
They’re on tour at the time, so it’s nothing fancy – a burger and fries on the side of the road somewhere, but it’s just the two of them, and that’s enough.
Jon brings Ryan flowers when he “picks him up.” (Picking him up entails knocking on the side of his bunk and calling out, “Hey, Ryan, let’s go!”) They’re roses, of course, and Ryan is delighted. No one’s ever bought him flowers before. Jon worries that it’s cheesy and even blushes a little, but Ryan is quick to assure him that they’re perfect.
He leaves the bouquet lying on his bed when they go eat, figuring he’ll do something with it later.
***
After they’ve eaten, had a french fry fight that threatened to get messy (“No ketchup!” Ryan shouted at the last minute) and kissed each other goodnight, Ryan sits on the edge of the bed with Jon’s roses in his hands. He wonders where Jon got roses in Missouri or Iowa or whatever-the-fuck state they’re in. He closes his eyes and smells them, breathing deep. They smell like hope – a good first date with the promise of more to come.
Dating on the bus is weird, and it’s a little strange to do the same things they always do and suddenly calling it a date, but Jon had the idea and Ryan thinks it’s sweet.
As he changes into pajamas, he lays the bouquet next to him on his pillow. He falls asleep inhaling the scent of roses.
***
Ryan wakes up the next morning to Brendon loudly challenging Spencer to a Guitar Hero tournament. Groaning, he rolls over onto his side, spotting the flowers still lying next to him. He knows that if Brendon finds them, he’ll be mocked for weeks, and if Spencer sees them, he’ll just smirk in that infuriating way of his. Ryan’s not sure which would be worse, but he wants to keep the roses. He grabs a book and presses a few of them between the pages, stems sticking out. Then he takes the book into the bathroom and cuts the stems down. He throws out the rest of the bouquet.
***
Ryan forgets about the roses for a while. He and Jon continue dating, not bothering to hide it from Brendon and Spencer.
The third time they sleep together, it’s in Ryan’s tiny bunk, which isn’t terribly comfortable. It works, though, and it’s better than nothing, for sure. They were lucky enough to have hotel rooms the first two times, but sometimes you just do what you have to.
Afterwards, Jon wraps his arm around Ryan and holds him close. Ryan snuggles in. A few minutes later, Jon has to move the arm he’s lying on, and his hand brushes a book lying nearby.
“What are you reading?” he asks, pulling the book out.
Ryan recognizes it and blushes furiously. “Nothing,” he mumbles.
Jon opens it anyway. On page 54, a dried rose falls out. “You saved them,” he says, smiling at Ryan.
“Yeah, kind of.” Ryan stares at the wall uncomfortably.
“I’m glad,” Jon says, gently moving Ryan’s chin, forcing Ryan to look at him.
“Yeah?”
“It’s sweet.”
“Please don’t tell the others,” Ryan whispers. He doesn’t need Brendon and Spencer thinking he’s a sentimental idiot. Even if it’s – maybe – true.
“Of course not,” Jon whispers back.
Ryan smiles gratefully. His eyes drift closed of their own accord. The last thing he remembers before sleep takes over is Jon saying, “Please don’t be embarrassed. I saved a french fry.”
