Nowhere Man

It's been three months since their "fling" started, and Brendon's never been happier. Him and Ryan have been spending nearly all of their time together, except when Ryan has to go to work at the bookstore or when Brendon has work or school. He was going to be graduating in a month, and he was glad it was about to be over.

"So, I think we should go on a date," Brendon states as he lounges on the couch with Ryan, his head in the older's lap. Hobo's curled at Brendon's feet, sleeping soundly.

Ryan, keeping his eyes on the television, deadpans, "Really. And what makes you think that?"

"Well," Brendon begins, sitting up so he's positioned on Ryan's lap, "I'm cute. Really cute. I've got a great ass. I know how to please you-" Ryan snorts, but Brendon continues, "I practically live in your bed. Your dog is in love with me. I'm basically the best thing that ever happened to you. I'm-"

"An annoying little freak who wears neon colored briefs. You hog the blankets and have really bad breath when you wake up. You sweat like no one I've ever met. You have Angelina Jolie lips, you moan like a slut when I pound into you, and you're a musician. Yeah, want to keep going with that list?" Ryan retorts.

Brendon grins. "But, see, the difference here, Mr. Ross, is that you still keep me around even though I do all of those things. You must like me a lot," he states.

"In your dreams, Urie," Ryan mumbles.

"Every damn night," Brendon answers, flicking Ryan's little button nose. He grows somber. He's serious about this. "So, is that a yes?"

"I told you; I don't date musicians," Ryan replies.

"I'm not a musician. I'm a psychiatrist," Brendon pouts. Why must Ryan be so difficult?

"Barely. You're an intern. Doesn't count," Ryan shrugs.

"I still think that means 'yes'," Brendon claims, curling his body around Ryan's sitting form.

"Yeah, well. That's because you're not smart like me," Ryan argues, " And you're sitting on my dick, and it seriously hurts."

Brendon rearranges his body and rests his face in Ryan's neck. "If it wasn't so fucking big, you wouldn't have to worry about me sitting on it."

"Like you would want it to be smaller," Ryan smirks.

Ryan really knows what makes him blush. "No comment," Brendon mumbles.

"Aw, wittle Brendon's embarrassed," Ryan coos.

"Seriously, go out with me?" Brendon asks, moving his head up to look at Ryan's face.

Ryan swallows. His amber eyes flicker for a moment, and he closes them tightly. "Yeah," he finally says.

Brendon grins and pecks his lips. "Cool, first date is going to be here, since I don't know if I can take you out in public yet. Clear up a spot for tomorrow night," he informs him, climbing off of his lap and grabbing his coat from the closet.

"Where are you going now?" Ryan questions.

"Out to plan. These things take time, you know," Brendon sings, swinging the door open with flourish and all but dancing out the door.

* * * *

Brendon gets an email from his teacher. His grades have been slipping. He can't fuck up now.

But he just can't help it. He forgets to study because he's always at Ryan's. Really, who could blame him? Sure, instead of having wild sex with the guy of my dreams, I'll study hard on test instead. No. That doesn't happen. It just doesn't.

Either way, he doesn't care. It's not like they can really kick him out after three years of hard work and nearly perfect marks. He's almost done; he doesn't intend on throwing everything away. He's just hitting a rough patch, that's all.

At least his job seems to be working out. Brendon took on some of Vicky's patients the other day so she could watch and evaluate how he works with the patients. Knowing them already gave him an edge, so all of them seemed to be at ease and talked to him just fine.

Today, though, it was back to the regular intern duties. He's making a few phone calls to new patients to remind them of their appointments when William bounds in, an excited look on his features. The bruise from the other night is almost gone and has faded into a dusty purple.

"Guess what?!" he asks anyone who would listen.

Patrick looks over at Bill boredly. "You're fired?" he asks.

"No. I just met the most amazing guy," Will gushes.

"Really? Where?" Brendon asks, happy for him. It's good for him to move on to someone else and ditch Travis.

"Here! Oh God, he's adorable. He's the new receptionist, Gabe. He's actually taller than me, can you believe that?! Like a fucking Amazon!" William rambles.

"Bill, that's great! We're really happy for you. Aren't we, Patrick?" Brendon looks to Patrick for confirmation.

"Yes. Fucking thrilled," Patrick deadpans.

Patrick is really difficult sometimes. "See? There you go," Brendon smiles. "You going to ask him out?"

"Well, I don't know. I have to do something about Travis first," Bill mumbles.

"You aren't living together, are you?" Brendon questions.

"No. Things have been rocky lately, anyway. Should be a clean break," William states, obviously trying to convince Brendon that everything will be fine.

"You sure? Maybe you should do it on the phone or something," Brendon says. He doesn't want Travis to lose it and beat Bill into a pulp.

"I don't believe in breaking up over the phone. I'll be fine, I swear," William replies.

Brendon doesn't want to push it. Ultimately, Bill will do whatever he wants, no matter what he says. "Okay," he allows.

"So, how's Ryan?" Will changes the subject, sitting on Brendon's desk.

"He's good," Brendon answers. "We're good. We're going to have a date in his apartment tonight."

"Don't you do that every night?" Bill smirks.

"Not like that," Brendon answers. "I mean for real. Like a date."

"That's awesome! Maybe you two are getting somewhere."

Brendon shrugs. He hopes so. He fucking prays that Ryan might commit to him. "I hope so," he answers.

* * * *

Brendon hits Ryan's door with his knee because his hands are so full with bags. The person who opens the door isn't Ryan, but a guy about his age with brown hair and ocean blue eyes. Spencer, he wagers. "Um, hi," Brendon greets.

"Uh, hey. Brendon, right?" the guy asks, holding Hobo back with his foot.

"Yeah, can I come in?" Brendon questions.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, sorry, come in," Spencer states.

Brendon walks through the door and immediately sets the bags on the counter. He then kneels down and pets Hobo, who's yapping excitedly at him. "So, you're Spencer?"

Spencer nods. "Nice to finally meet you," he replies, shaking Brendon's hand and stressing the last three words with flourish.

"Fuck you, not my fault you're never here. Run along to Jon now," Ryan dismisses, announcing his presence while coming from his bedroom.

"Wait... Walker?" Brendon questions.

"Uh, yeah actually. Why?" Spencer answers.

"Oh. He's just my roommate, that's all," Brendon states, chuckling to himself. He's going to have to have a talk with Jon when he gets home.

Spencer frowns. "Wow. Um, that's a little..." he trails off.

"Ironic," Ryan states. "It's ironic, Spence."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Thanks," he retorts.

"Well, get out now, please and thank you," Ryan says, pushing Spencer straight toward the exit.

"Bye, Brendon!" Spencer calls over his shoulder as Ryan closes the door behind him.

Brendon takes Spencer's absence as an opportunity to look Ryan over. He's just dressed in a vest, a scarf, and loose shirt paired with some slacks, but he looks very polished and... damn, just sexy. "You look nice," Brendon tells him.

Ryan smiles slightly. "You too. The leather jacket makes you look all tough," he chuckles.

Brendon looks down at his jacket. "Well. Not real leather. Gotta hold up my standards as a vegetarian."

Rolling his eyes, Ryan mumbles a "whatever" and pulls Brendon towards him, planting a light kiss on the corner of his mouth. "So, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"Okay, so. We're going to be cooking," Brendon tells him.

"Dude. Seriously?"

"Yeah. Like, you know how in all of those romantic comedies, the guy and the girl, like, start cooking and do all of this cutesy stuff while they are? And usually one of them has a kid, so they look like the poster family for domestic tranquility? Yeah, that's going to be us," Brendon explains.

"Okay, there's a couple of kinks in your plan. One: we're both dudes, and two: we don't have a kid. So," Ryan states.

"Pft, you're the girl, and Hobo's our kid. So there." Brendon goes over to the stove and turns the dial to let the stove warm up. "We're having spaghetti, yo."

"Lord," Ryan mumbles.

"Hey, you are going to go along with this, you know," Brendon says, raising an eyebrow in a challenging fashion.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, or else you'll hold out on me," Ryan mutters.

"Honey, I should let you know now that I don't put out on the first date," Brendon replies, smirking over his shoulder.

Ryan twists his long arms around Brendon's waist and whispers in his ear lowly, "How about after?"

Smiling to himself, Brendon replies, "Maybe."

* * * *

When William appears at work the next day unscathed, Brendon lets out a huge sigh of relief. "Did you do it?" he asks.

Bill smiles slightly. "Yep. He was pissed, but I booked it out of there," he shrugs. "How was your date?"

Brendon smiles to himself, thinking of the way Ryan had licked the tomato sauce off of his lips. "Awesome," he answers.

"So, are you guys official now?" Bill questions, smiling.

Brendon chews his lip. "I don't know, to be honest," he mumbles. He doesn't know. They'd had their "date" and everything went perfect as it should have, but he just couldn't. With Ryan, nothing was set in stone.

"He'll come around, Bren. Don't worry," William smiles.

He sighs. He certainly hopes so.

* * * *

Three days pass. It's three fucking days since their "date", and they haven't spoken to each other. Not once. And it's not that Brendon didn't try. He did. He tried calling about a thousand times: texting another hundred. Ryan just won't answer him.

He doesn't sleep much. He tosses and turns, eventually passing out from utter exhaustion, but wakes up just as tired. He can't remember the last time he slept without being wrapped in Ryan's arms. It's like a huge piece of him has been stripped away. He cries a lot too, wondering what went wrong. Things had been looking like they were about to go a step forward, not two back. He can't understand.

What's more heartbreaking is the fact that he misses Ryan so much. He misses everything; the way Ryan scrunched up his nose when Brendon's hair was a mess (and the way he'd gently smooth it down until it looked decent), the way his long spidery fingers danced along his pale stomach idly as if they'd never rather do anything else, the way his mouth would drop open when he came, breathing Brendon's name. It was hard to accept that maybe Ryan just didn't want anything to do with him anymore. It was obvious. They had taken things too far.

The thing was, Ryan had looked so happy the last time they had been together. He smiled a lot and touched Brendon softly and talked in whispers. Everything had been good. He didn't get it. He felt so broken: more than he'd even been in his entire life.

He stays in his room, only leaving to go to school or work. He's not sure if Spencer's still in and out or not. Jon tries to talk to him sometimes, but Brendon is always mute. He knows he's being unfair to him, but he can't help it. He just feels so lost.

Maybe he should have never asked Ryan out to coffee that day.

* * * *

Before he realizes it, it's Tuesday; the day of Ryan's usual appointment. Brendon's been moping around at work for the past few days, barely talking to anyone but Bill, who continually chatters about Gabe twenty-four seven. It makes him feel that much worse.

As Ryan's appointment time looms, Brendon gets more and more jumpy. He feels like he's coming out of his skin. William tries to calm him down, but Brendon just ends up curling up under his desk and hugging himself tightly, even though he knows Ryan wouldn't be able to see into the room anyway. He just wants to be alone, to mourn the loss in peace. Ryan told him- no, he fucking promised to tell Brendon if he didn't want to see him anymore. He had lied. Brendon wonders how many times he's lied to him.

"Hey Bill," he hears Gabe say.

"Hey. What are you doing back here so early?" William replies. Brendon wants to cry. They're flirting right above him. It makes him think of Ryan. It gives him an incredibly sinking feeling.

"Vicky just sent me in to tell you guys you can go home. She had to go to a patient, and she's not coming back tonight," Gabe replies.

Brendon surges up, hitting his head on his desk hard. "Fuck!" he yells, closing his eyes at the throbbing ache of his skull. He eventually crawls out from under the desk and stand slowly, blinking. "Vicky's going where?"

"To a patient's house. He called and asked if she could come to him just this once. He kind of sounded like a wreck," Gabe shrugs.

"Oh my God," Brendon whispers to himself. He looks to the clock, and, sure enough, it's about five minutes until Ryan's appointment is due to start. "Fuck."

Bill looks at Brendon sympathetically. "I'm sure he's fine," he says.

"I'm just-" Brendon cuts himself off. He's a mess; his head already has a huge lump on it and he's on the verge of tears. He's surprised he's even functioning at this point. "I'm gonna go home. I'll see you." He trudges out the door before Bill gets the chance to say a word.