Work Text:
Groaning, Ryan slammed his head down on the desk, papers strewn about the battered wooden desks around the small room, soft evening light poured in through the open window, letting in the humid hair that made his hair all frizzy. Dropping the pen in his hand, he closed his eyes, hoping for some kind of solace from this dreadful assignment. His teacher for journalism had told him to write a report on a fairly famous guy on campus, any one would work but he just had to find someone. He had walked across every inch of campus at least twice and yet, nobody. He had asked Dallon from the music club, but he was too busy; he then went over and asked Pete but all he got was a laugh in his face; now he had texted Vic but he said he was too busy working on homework to take an interview. Now he was utterly out of ideas, and was risking getting an F on his project. The teacher was a sweet lady, he hated the idea of seeing her disappointed face when he turned in a blank sheet, but at this point with three days left until the deadline, there was zero chance he was going to find someone in time. A tap on his shoulder made him turn his head, seeing his friend, Spencer, standing beside him. Sighing, Ryan lifted his head up slightly, wincing as he felt the bruise that was forming on his forehead after slamming his head down.
“Hey, you’ve been kinda…tense lately,” Spencer paused, glancing down at Ryan who was glaring up at him, almost like he was thinking you think? “You alright? I mean you’ve been sitting in the newsroom for hours.” The newsroom, a small dusty room on the end of campus where students who worked for the paper would write. Sighing as he pushed himself upright, feeling his back crack from hours of sitting in front of his laptop writing.
“Yeah, it’s just this essay thing for class,” He shook his head, closing his laptop and picking it up along with his other papers, loaded them into his laptop bag. “We’re supposed to do an interview of somebody kinda famous on campus, but everyone I’ve asked said no,” Spencer opened his mouth, but Ryan shot him a glare once more. “No, I’m not asking Pete again,”
“Wasn’t gonna say that,” Ryan rolled his eyes, pushing open the door as Spencer followed beside him, thinking deeply.
“Vic?”
“Already asked him.”
“Okay, uh Gerard?”
“Never heard of him.”
“Really? Okay, uh Amy-“
“Listen Spencer-“ Ryan sighed, crossing his arms as they exited onto the courtyard, treading across the mowed lawn towards the dormitory, bright lights shining outside the windows. The sun was beginning to set, blue tinged with shades of pink and orange as night began to enter. “It’s really nice that you’re trying to help me, honestly, but,” Ryan dug out his keys from his bag, fumbling as he attempted to fit it in the hole. “I don’t think there’s anyone who’ll work.” Spencer huffed as the two walked inside, the door swinging shut behind them. The campus was old and ill-funded, no fancy keycard doors or Wi-Fi anywhere, it almost was like the campus hadn’t been changed since the 80s.
“But are you sure you’re okay with getting an F, I mean last time you got anything below a B…” Spencer trailed off, his gaze somewhere else as they clambered up the steep steps towards their room. Suddenly Spencer snapped his fingers, catching back up with Ryan who was a flight of stairs in front of him. “Ryan! I got it! I know who’ll be your subject!”
“Spencer, that’s really nice of you but-“ Ryan and Spencer nearly dodged two students passionately making out by the stairwell. “Okay? Uhm, anyways,” Ryan sighed, walking towards his dorm. “It’s really nice of you but I honestly don’t think it’ll be of any help.”
“If you don’t believe me, come down tomorrow morning early to the photography class,” Spencer smirked, winking at a boy who passed, Ryan figured it was probably Jon. “They’re doing a shoot with a famous model here on campus, you’ll love him-I think.” Spencer half-laughed, scratching the back of his neck. Both boys said good night before Ryan closed the door to his dorm.
He was lucky, at least he thought, since he basically got an entire dorm to himself. At first he was pretty miffed, sharing a dorm with another kid he likely barely knew for an entire year but after the first week of being there, he quite liked his new roommate. He never was too loud, never made a mess of anything, heck he was so tidy that Ryan barely had to clean up after him like he was used to! Though that was probably because his roommate never showed up. From sun up, until sun down, even during all nighters, he never came in. This mysterious “roommate” had never even left a note for him! Ryan had assumed that his roommate was probably staying with some friends or girlfriend but never officially switched rooms with him. That was fine with Ryan, more room for him! Flopping down onto his bed, he tossed his shirt off, watching as it missed the dirty hamper by a mile. He sighed as he got up, picking up the shirt and about to drop it in with the rest of his stuff when he noticed something odd on the top of the clothes, a pair of underwear.
Now, it wasn’t like Ryan didn’t wear underwear you freak, he had quite a simple collection of grey and black ones, however the ones in the hamper were of a vibrant purple, bright purple, the kind that would rival Barney the Dinosaur. Dropping the shirt to the side, Ryan carefully picked up the pair with his fingertips, cringing as he tried to avoid the suspicious damp spot on the bottom. He turned the pair around, looking for a tag or something to find the owner of the pair so he could call them up for their poor fashion choice. Sadly, there was nothing on them and Ryan dropped them like he was holding a bag of dog shit. Throwing his shirt into the hamper, he shrugged off his pants and threw them to the side before lying back down in his bed. His mind was racing, who was that man that Spencer was talking about? How much could he convince his teacher to bump his F to a D without making her face look more akin to a sad baby? And who the fuck leaves their post-masturbation in a strangers dorm room?
~~~
Ryan’s eyes fluttered open, allowing himself to take in the scenery for a mere moment before something hit the side of his face, hard. Rolling over to his side and scrambling up to seated position, Ryan looked up at the mysterious attacker, who was now grinning from ear to ear.
“Spencer!” Ryan yelled, shaking his head as he covered himself up with his duvet. “It’s eight in the morning!” Glaring at his friend, who was poorly stifling his laughter as he dropped the pillow he was holding.
“Yeah, and fate waits for nobody, chop chop!” Spencer turned around, yanking open the dresser and looking through Ryan’s wardrobe. “Oooh this looks great, very sharp-“ Spencer grinned, pulling out a silky blue button down which Ryan promptly snatched out of Spencer’s hands and stuffed back down into the drawer.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Ryan grumbled, the morning light pouring into the room was a little too bright right now. “Why are we up so early and-wait how did you get into my room?” But before Ryan could ask another question, Spencer pushed a stack of clothes into Ryan’s hands. Looking through them, he seemed that Spencer had picked a grey button down, a common staple; and black pinstripe pants which Ryan forgot he even owned.
“Remember that guy I was talking about?” Ryan nodded. “Well, his photoshoot got bumped back earlier, and he’ll be out of town the next few days so this is the best time to catch him!” Ryan sighed and walked into the bathroom, the lock clicked shut as he turned it and quickly changed into the clothes Spencer had picked out for him, the pants were definitely…a choice, but now was not the time to debate Spencer’s pick, he wanted to know what kind of guy Spencer was talking about.
“Photoshoot?” Ryan said as he came back into his dorm, grabbing a hat from his desk before dashing out behind Spencer, weaving through the crowds of students arriving for early morning classes. “Wait so is this guy a model or something?”
“Ah, yeah something of the sort.” Spencer shrugged, stuffing his hands into his jeans’ pocket. “He’ll tell you all about it in the interview—-well if you like him enough that is.” Ryan raised his eyebrow at that but decided not to focus too much on that. The students faded away as they made their way towards the photo room, a few stragglers stayed behind but it was almost a ghost town. “Alright we’re here!” Spencer grinned, knocking twice on the door. It felt like hours until someone answered, a boy peeked his head through the door, looking between Spencer and Ryan.
“Who are you guys?”
“It’s Spencer and Ryan, Frank, you know, for the interview?” Spencer sighed, Frank letting them in as Ryan was blinded by the sudden flashing white light. “Sorry, it’s usually not this bright.” Ryan sighed, whatever he had to do for this A. Walking into the room, flashing lights constantly beamed against the white backdrop, Patrick occasionally giving a thumbs up to the model.
“Alright uh, give us another one-yeah like that!” He clicked his camera again, Spencer leading the way until they were leaning against the far wall. “Well whadduya think Ryan?” Spencer smiled, glancing at Ryan’s widened eyes.
The boy standing in front of him was modeling against a stark white backdrop, an equally white couch sat in the middle where he laid, almost draped across it. The main point was that the boy was shirtless, wearing a pair of dark wash skinny jeans as he laid his arm against the back of the sofa. His dark hair was combed to the side, his lips were in a perpetual pout it seemed and Ryan had to restrain himself not to let his gaze fly lower.
“Who is he,” Ryan’s voice cracked slightly, making him glow a tad redder. “Uh, for the title of the article.”
“Brendon-!” Patrick called, standing up straighter to give Brendon a thumbs up. “That’s all for today, thanks a ton, it should go live tomorrow if the editing goes right.” Brendon sat up, jumping off the set as he walked off towards a changing room on the left. Spencer nudged Ryan in the ribs, motioning to the side door with a smile.
“Your interview is waiting,” Spencer sang, Ryan smiled gratefully as he all but sprinted towards the side door. Skidding to a stop in front of the door, Ryan paused, he probably shouldn’t barge in uninvited, especially if Brendon was—okay stop that he told himself before slowly raising up his hand and knocking. It only took one rap of knuckles upon wood before the door opened and a curious face peeked out.
“Excuse me? Did Patrick have another photo idea?” He laughed, a towel draped across his shoulders like he was above to take a shower. Ryan shook his head, attempting to calm his shaky hands as he pulled out his yellow notebook from his bag.
“Nope, uh, I’m Ryan Ross, from journalism?” He didn’t know why he phrased that as a question, there was no way this guy would even know who he was I mean, most celebrities outrun the journalists right? Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, he continued. “I just want to ask you a few questions, it’s for an essay.” The boy’s eyes widened before a smirk appeared on his face then he began to…laugh? Brendon broke into a bout of giggles, holding onto the door frame to steady himself, Ryan stood there, deciding whether to turn tail and run or let this pretty boy model mock him.
“Sorry, sorry, ahem.” Brendon cleared his throat, smiling and Ryan figured he had to make Brendon smile at least once in this interview even if it killed him. “Yeah, an interview sounds fun come in!” Opening the door wider, Brendon led Ryan into the room, shutting it behind them. The room was decently sized, it looked like it used to be a locker room before being repurposed into something else. The floors were of tile, a cheap shag carpet sat in the middle of the room while fabric was lazily draped over the lockers to try and create a more inviting look rather than gym locker room. Two leather chair sat in the middle of the room, a small coffee table sat in between with glossy photos and magazines spread across the table. A small Yankee Candle was lit, the price tag still on but the smell was quite comfortable, some kind of vanilla mix Ryan had to guess. Walking over to the showers, Brendon motioned to one of the seats with a smile. “I gotta shower, y’know Urie family trip.” He shrugged, closing the curtain behind him. “You can still do that interview though no worries!” Ryan nodded, lowering himself into the leather chair and pulling out his pen, along with placing his voice recorder on the coffee table in case he missed something.
“Family trip?” Ryan inquired, steam began to fill the room as the shower was turned on. “I’m guessing this is a common thing.”
“Yep, every year in spring before spring break. My parents aren’t a huge fan of my degree, wished I got something in business or whatever,” Brendon called, Ryan made a small note on the side of the page. “They weren’t exactly a fan when I told them I was gonna do art history.”
“Art history?” Asking, Ryan flipped a page back and began to fill the page with things he learned about Brendon along the way of this interview, for reference of course nothing weird. “I think that’s a good degree, why would your parents be so against it?”
“They’re all like ‘you’ll never get a suitable wife with that degree, who knows you’ll probably end up single or worse, with some blue haired liberal lady’ Y’know those religious types.” Ryan heard the click of a bottle cap being flicked open, listening to the slight hum from Brendon’s lips. “Anyways, enough about me, what about you?”
“I’m the journalist, Mr. Urie.” Ryan sighed, leaning against one of the torn armrests of the seat, clicking his pen impatiently. “I’m supposed to be asking the questions.”
“Mr. Urie?” Brendon peeked his head out from behind the curtain, his hair now jet black and slick against his head from the water. “Please, with that you make me sound like my father,” Laughing, he went back to his shower, cussing under her breath as he dropped something. “Brendon’s cool.”
“Alright, so uh Brendon.” Ryan said, the name rolling off his tongue with ease. “First question, what is your occupation here?” Scribbling down something, he waited for a reply.
“I guess you could say freelance model? Patrick usually calls me up for some work at a local magazine he works at but really I take all work.” Another bottle opening, Ryan tried to ignore the pictures that kept coming up of what was behind that curtain as he wrote down the answer.
“I see, uhm how long? Like what’s your experience with modeling?” Brendon sighed, arm reaching out as he grabbed a comb off of a small step stool outside the room. Ryan was now fully gripping the armchair, he had to get through this interview without having an incident which was becoming more difficult as this shower went on. Plus he didn’t know if this Brendon guy even liked him back, why was he all atwitter about this.
“Well, I first modeled for my church back in my hometown, then around high school a group of guys needed me to model…uh how do you say it?” Brendon paused, another cap was unscrewed from in the shower. “Illicit photos.” Something warm pooled in Ryan’s stomach, another picture flashed in his mind, did he have some kind of photographer in his mind shooting random images?! “Anyways, when we graduated we all separated and now I’m here, so yeah, sixteen years my guess.” Ryan was pressing so hard into the page, the pen threatened to explode. “You’re also twenty right?”
“Yeah, why?” Ryan said, a tad more tersely than he intended to sound. “Sorry, long day-“ He added, trying to soften the accidentally blow of his words.
“Nah it’s fine, I was just curious because maybe we could be friends or something, I mean you seem cool.” The water turned off, Brendon grabbed a towel hanging on the hook outside the shower as the curtain stayed closed. “If you want to.”
“Sure, why not.” Ryan smiled, scribbling out a word he misspelled. “Another question, what’s your opinion on being famous here?”
“Famous? I wouldn’t say I was famous.” Brendon poked his head out again, staring straight at Ryan. “Hey, can you get me my clothes, they’re in the leftmost locker.” Ryan jumped out of his set slightly, looking towards Brendon who was wearing a cheeky grin. A flush grew on his cheeks and standing up, he walked over to the locker, opening it and looking through it. Brendon’s locker was almost like a mini closet, filled with tops bottoms and whatever he needed. Looking through all the clothes, Ryan plucked a pair of jeans, a simple v-neck t-shirt, and-oh? He was about to close the locker when something caught his eye. A familiar color, he leaned forward and reached his hand inside, pulling out the familiar bright purple underwear from the previous night. Was Brendon his roommate? No, perhaps this was a common color of underwear among models or famous people or whatever he didn’t know. Walking over, he handed them to Brendon, who thanked him with a nod.
“Interesting pair of underwear you own,” Ryan said, placing his hands on his hips.
“Is this a question for the interview? Because I’ve never heard of an interviewer asking about his interviewee’s underwear.” Laughing, Brendon soon pulled back the curtain, walking out and tossing the jeans from earlier into the wicked hamper by the shower.
“No, it’s a question in general.” Ryan felt a flush climb up his cheeks. “Unless you want it to be?” Now it was Brendon’s turn to blush, looking away from Ryan as he closed his lockers. “Sorry,”
“No, don’t apologize that was good!” Brendon turned back around, leaning against the lockers as he fidgeted with his phone. Ryan flopped back down onto his chair, writing another note in the margins to edit out. “Any more questions Mr. Journalist?” Brendon looked down at the yellow notebook, tilting his head slightly to look at the page better.
“I think a couple more then we should be good,” Ryan mumbled, shaking his head as he crossed out his reply. Brendon raised his eyebrows, walking over to the boy and leaning his thin body across the top of the chair as he read the notebook. Ryan was aware of the warm puffs of hair against his neck, sending shivers down his spine. The warmth spread throughout his body, he tried to ignore Brendon’s soft hums as he read.
“This is quite good, I think you could edit this out though.” Brendon pointed somewhere on the page, Ryan couldn’t figure out where exactly he was referring to so he turned his head slightly to look up at him. “Hold on, let me move,” Pulling himself off the seat, Ryan felt himself deflate with the loss of warmth from Brendon until two hands rested on each armrest, caging him into the seat. Brendon stood in front of him, leaning down with his eyes pinned on Ryan. The movement was slow, both kept eye contact as Ryan moved the notebook to the coffee table, carefully keeping his gaze on Brendon like he was a wild animal. As he returned back, he took a deep shaky breath.
“Now uh, what was it you wanted me to change?” Ryan only got about half of that out before Brendon’s hand cupped his cheek, and all thoughts suddenly disappeared. Attempting to regain control of his flustered brain, Ryan tried to speak but soon the distance between them was closed and Brendon’s lips were on his. This first kiss was gentle, Brendon pulled away, his face very much akin to a kicked puppy.
“Sorry I-“ Brendon said, pulling back slightly before Ryan hooked his finger through the belt strap and yanked him forward again. Ryan letting his hands sit on the small of Brendon’s back, tracing small circles around his spine that made him shiver. Brendon paused, pulling apart so he could slide onto Ryan’s lap, effectively straddling him as he let his hands roam, one sitting on Ryan’s hip and one of the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Wait, wait,” Ryan stammered, pulling back as Brendon’s deft fingers deliberately slowly slid down, beginning to undo the buttons of Ryan’s shirt. “You actually like me back?!” The scent of Brendon’s fancy shampoo filled his nose, Ryan tried not to think about the idea of showering with Brendon but all self control had left his body five minutes ago.
“Well ‘course.” Brendon mumbled, too focused on undoing his buttons to notice. “You’re pretty attractive Y’know.” Ryan flushed under the compliment, his hands reaching to sit on Brendon’s waist. “Damn you have a tiny waist,”
“Well yeah, I’m a model.” Brendon grinned, planting a line of kisses down Ryan’s chest, stopping where the top of his jeans sat. “That’s kind of the point.” He whispered through kisses. When he sat back up, he leaned his head down, pressing a kiss to his neck which earned another shiver from Ryan.
“I guess that makes-uh-sense.” Ryan said, pushing down a whimper as Brendon began sucking a hickey into his neck. “Brendon, I have a class tomorrow! A-and you have a trip!”
“Screw the trip,” Brendon sighed, running his teeth along one that made Ryan actually whine for once in his damn life. “Plus, you can wear a scarf right?” Ryan sighed and nodded, earning a hard bite right at his collarbone.
“Shit!” He cried, absently rubbing at the mark which Brendon beamed at. Going back over it with his tongue, Ryan leaned into the touch, his fingers resting against Brendon’s belt. His hands drifted lower, now sitting at the buckle when all the sudden a sharp knock at the door broke the two apart.
“Hey are you done! Class starts in twenty minutes!” Spencer yelled, Ryan flushed as Brendon slid off him, dusting himself off and Ryan quickly redid the buttons of his shirt.
“Uh, yeah! Coming!” His voice didn’t have its usual tone, coming out a whole lot meeker than he meant. Sighing as he tucked his top back in, he turned back to Brendon, who was smiling mischievously at Ryan.
“Great interview, Ryan. I’m open for another one, if you want?” Smiling back, Ryan nodded his head.
“Sure, anytime!” Ignoring Spencer’s glance at his neck, the two raced off to class, Spencer smirking as Ryan told him what him, avoiding the obvious impromptu make out sesh that everyone heard. And even after getting an F for his essay, at least he got the chance to go to his dorm and talk to his roommate about it. Ryan had to admit, having a roommate wasn’t all bad.
“HOW DID YOU BURN THE WATER?!”