900 Thousand Times I Would...

At first, Ryan thought Brendon had been joking about that whole "going to Disney tomorrow" thing.

He wasn't. And to prove it, he booked a flight to Florida and rented out a hotel room. No, of course he couldn't go to Disney Land, which was in California and not on the other side of the country. It had to be Disney World because he'd never been there before.

Like there was really much of a difference.

So there they were the next day, sitting in their seats and waiting for the plane to take off. Ryan had let Brendon have the window seat, just because he wanted it, and Ryan really didn't care for airplanes.

When they had told Spencer and Jon about their trip, they couldn't have been happier. That meant to them three precious days of alone time. Ryan figured the washing machine would probably be broken by the time they got back.

Use your imagination.

"Please put your seat belts on and keep your seats in the upright position. We will be taking off momentarily," the speaker stated in a gravely voice.

Ryan groaned inwardly. Great, he thought bitterly as he tightened his seat belt around his skinny waist.

"You okay?" Brendon asked, turning his head to look at Ryan. He knew of his anxiety of flying.

Ryan nodded and closed his eyes. "I'll be fine," he mumbled, bracing himself for take-off. He felt a warm hand lacing its fingers with his own. He didn't even have to open his eyes to know exactly whose hand that was.

A minute later, the plane began to taxi forward slowly. Not so bad. It began picking up speed, though, which is when Ryan began get nervous. He bit his lip and closed his eyes a little tighter.

Brendon's hand squeezed his reassuringly, and he relaxed a little. He felt the plane lift off the ground and climb the altitude increasingly. Soon, the airplane was going and steady and straight.

Blinking his eyes open, he turned to Bren. "Thanks," he said. Only Brendon would and could comfort him like that.

"Welcome," Brendon replied cheerily and letting go of his hand.

Ryan was disappointed at the loss of contact, but didn't let it show. "Over four hours of fun. Yay," he whispered sarcastically under his breath.

Brendon must have heard him, because he scolded, "Oh stop being such a cranky pants. You are going to have such a good time when he get there, so don't go dissin'."

"Fine, fine," Ryan muttered. "What should we do now?" he asked.

"Let's talk," Brendon suggested.

"Um... okay," Ryan agreed slowly, knowing that there was probably something Brendon wanted to ask him specifically.

"So... if you don't mind me asking... how did it start?"

Ryan frowned. "How did what start?"

"You know..." Brendon trailed off, picking at his nails nervously. "You and Pete."

"Oh." So he wanted to know what happened. "You want me to tell you the story? It's nothing special."

"Um... ya, I'm just curious."

Ryan took a deep breath. "All right. Here it goes."

Ryan walked about the premises, looking at all of the people present. Pete knows a shit load of people, he thought, turning the corner with alcohol in hand. Sure, he wasn't legal quite yet (he'd be turning twenty-one in August), but no one cared. This was Pete Wentz's party. No one was going to call the cops, because he wasn't the only minor there. Leave it to Pete to just have a party for no reason whatsoever.

"Remember that party Pete had in January?" Ryan asked Brendon.

"Uhuh," Brendon nodded. He pulled the bouncy ball he had gotten at the toy store out of his pocket and began turning it over in his hand.

"Well, that's when it started. I was just standing there, having a drink," Ryan said.

Andy, the drummer for Fall Out Boy, pulled Joe, the lead guitarist by the shirt. "I can't believe you're wasted already," he hissed, obviously annoyed. Andy didn't drink, so it couldn't be much fun for him to be here.

Pete, he thought fondly, an exciting feeling bubbling in his chest. All he could think about was how perfect he was: his eyes, his lips, that hair, those jeans... They made Ryan drool. Ya, maybe Pete was basically his boss and was the only reason he was famous in the first place, but he couldn't help himself. There was only one Pete Wentz, after all.

"Did you... like him?" Brendon questioned.

Ryan shrugged. "Sort of. Thought he was hott, but you know. He's Pete," Ryan mumbled sullenly.

Brendon's eyebrows furrowed. "Where was I at?"

Leaning against the wall, he looked around. He hadn't seen Brendon for a little while; who knows where that social butterfly was now? He always had to be the center of attention.

Ryan shrugged. "I honestly have no clue."

"All right, now when does Pete come in?!" Brendon urged.

"Hey," Pete greeted, walking up to him, gripping his beer.

Ryan flushed and hoped Pete couldn't tell in this awful light. "Hey," he replied casually. He was sure the rapid rate of his heart beat was giving him away by now.

"You enjoying the party?" Pete asked, giving Ryan a grin that made him want to fall over right fucking there.

"Ya, it's okay," Ryan shrugged. He'd really never been much of a party person. He didn't like being in big crowds or anything like that.

"Is that a drink I see in your hand?" Pete teased.

"It most certainly is. Coke, of course," Ryan replied, playing it cool.

Pete chuckled. "Right," he stated sarcastically.

Ryan felt Pete rushing through his veins. There was an awkward silence among them for a few moments, until Pete muttered something Ryan thought he'd never hear:

"All right, all right," Ryan chuckled. "Well, he just kind of came up to me and said hi. I said hi back. We talked for a minute, you know, the usual mingling. And then..."

"You look really good tonight."

"He told me I looked good," Ryan admitted.

Brendon gasped. "Dun dun dun! So what did you say?"

Ryan was shocked and blinked. Was this some sort of sick joke? "Uh, thanks," Ryan blushed, trying to his his face behind the fringe of his hair. "You too," he dared to add.

Pete looked up at Ryan; Ryan was a few inches taller, though seven years younger. "Thanks," Pete smiled.

"What did you think I said?"

"You told him he looked good too," Brendon stated.

Pete was so close to him, it was driving him insane. Ryan was frozen in time, not knowing what was going to happen between them tonight. The silence was deafening.

"Yes. He thanked me... and then... there was a silence," Ryan said.

"And then?" He could tell Brendon wanted him to get to the point.

Then, his Pete's lips reached up to Ryan's. The kiss was slow and steady. Pete tasted like alcohol, but, then again, so did he. Ryan's hands traveled to Pete's waist, resting them there. Pete in turned grabbed his face and pulled him closer. There were only three words on Ryan's mind:

Holy fucking shit.

"He kissed me."

Brendon scrunched up his nose. "And you kissed back."

"Of course I kissed back. What do you think?"

"Well, I was hoping a fairy came down and hit you over the head with something hard. But let me guess: he dragged you into a dark room and took your clothes off."

Pete pulled away for a moment, looking at Ryan. He kissed him again, harder and rougher than before. Not that Ryan was complaining. He grabbed Pete's belt loops, getting into it. The next thing he knew, they were in a room, kissing on a bed. Clothes were slowly coming off and ragged breaths were emitted. Pete ran a hand over Ryan's bare stomach, making him shiver.

Ryan was silent for a moment. "Just my shirt." He looked at Brendon, who had a kind of blank look on his face. He figured he'd just continue. "And then... Spencer came in."

"What'd he want?" Brendon asked.

The door opened, and they pulled away from each other immediately. It was Spencer who interrupted. "Dude, I hate to bust in, but we gotta go. Brendon's freaking out," he informed them.

"He told me that we had to leave."

"Why?"

Ryan smiled in the irony of the situation. That had been the same question he asked.

Ryan slid his shirt back on and stood up. "Why?" he asked in his haze. Kissing Pete had been like drugs. But way better.

"He thinks you died in a ditch or something," Spencer replied.

"He said that you were afraid I died," Ryan answered.

"Oh ya! I remember. I didn't see you anywhere, so I sent out a search. You never told me what you had been doing. You left then, right?" Brendon hoped.

"Shit," Ryan mumbled. "Give me a sec."

Spencer nodded, leaving the room.

"Well... I got to go..." Ryan said to Pete.

"Yes."

Pete now had his shirt on and was standing as well. "Go ahead to your boyfriend," he chuckled.

Ryan frowned, confused. He didn't have a boyfriend. "I'll see you," he muttered, ready to leave.

Pete grabbed his shoulders and gave him a mind-blowing kiss. "Yes, yes you will," he whispered breathily.

Ryan blinked when he was released. He simply nodded and walked out of the door, not knowing what else to do. He could barely comprehend what had just happened.

"And that ends our story for the evening. Or morning. Whatever," Ryan concluded.

"Wow. Let's kill Pete," Brendon suggested.

Ryan shook his head. "Wait until we get a new A&R."

"Okay," Brendon agreed, resting his head on his shoulder.

Ryan sighed inwardly. He was glad Brendon now knew the truth.