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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Panic! At The Disco

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.


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Words of Wisdom
By indie_chicky


Read, review, give me lots of love for lines and moments…you know the drill ;)


The day she called, Spencer was the first to find him.

Spencer always woke up before the rest of them because he needed that time in the morning where Brendon's constant ramblings weren't in his ear and Jon's incessant need to watch “The Notebook” hadn't yet been brought up.The only person he could ever stand at this time in the morning was his best friend for as long as he could remember. Ryan was quiet, he could tell when Spencer wasn't in the mood to talk. But this morning, it was Spencer who sensed something in Ryan.

He walked in to the bathroom, towel and fresh clothes in hand, humming a tune that he had created to keep himself sane in the early morning silence. When he saw Ryan, he was sitting with his back against the bathtub, scribbling furiously into a tattered notebook that had been taped and retaped so that he would never lose Brendon's message of “you'll always have me for when the inspiration fades” scrawled onto the front cover.

“Um, Ryan?”

Nothing. The boy on the floor continued writing, not even making a single movement to suggest that he had heard Spencer.

“Dude, I have to take a shower.”

Ryan scooted to the side, allowing Spencer access to the bathtub. Spencer sighed and shrugged. After all, he had known Ryan forever. And it was because of that bond that Ryan reached up and covered his eyes with one hand, letting a small smile grace his expression, if only for a second.

And when Spencer was finished, he reached outside the shower and covered himself in his towel before stepping out.

If someone would have asked him, Spencer Smith would have told someone that his words of wisdom for the day were: It's not a big deal to see your best friend naked. It's just something that you want to avoid if you can.

………………………………&hel lip;

Later in the day, Jon was brushing his teeth at the bathroom sink. It was about noon, but he figured, when you're in the wilderness finding inspiration, why should you have to get up before you feel like it?

He looked down at Ryan whose scribbles had slowed down, but were still pretty consistent.

“You okay, man?”

Ryan gave a barely noticeable nod and reached around to massage his own shoulder blades, which were starting to hurt after leaning against the bathtub all day.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Again, if Jon had blinked, he would have missed Ryan's head move in a quick side-to-side motion. Jon shrugged and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Ryan to…whatever he was doing. Most of the time, no one really knew what Ryan was doing until it was finished, and unlike Brendon and Spencer, who continually peeked over Ryan's shoulder when they thought he wasn't looking, Jon was okay with that.

And his words of wisdom for the day would have been: Who needs to see the process when the result is always a masterpiece?

………………………………&hel lip;…………

When Brendon finally decided to roll out of bed, the sun had already peaked and was getting ready to descend. But if anything important were to have happened today, Ryan would have dragged Brendon out of bed, enticing him with coffee and promising him that new tracks were in his future if only he walked downstairs to the studio.

He knew the routine well enough. It happened almost everyday.

But today, no one had come to wake him up, so he dozed in and out of sleep, enjoying the rare peace. Now, he had decided he needed to get up if only for one reason: he had to go.

He sleepily stumbled into the bathroom, feeling the walls for the light switch and suddenly realizing that they were already on. He shook his head, trying to get his unruly hair to fall into a semi-organized fashion and reached onto the counter for his glasses, placing them on his face and smiling at himself in the mirror.

Then, he heard a small cough from the floor, and looked down at Ryan Ross' sleeping frame. He was lying against the bathtub, his head tilted back and leaning on the edge. His notebook was on his lap and it looked as if he had stopped writing in mid-thought. His pen was discarded by his leg, clearly forgotten in favor of sleep.

Brendon smiled again. It was so nice to see Ryan like this. Normally, he was completely stressed out, worried about the hype, the lyrics, the disappointment that would occur if everything wasn't just right. Brendon loved seeing him being calm and serene.

And then, a thought came to Brendon's mind.

Holy shit, I really have to piss.

He moved over toward the toilet and sighed, feeling relieved. When he was finished, he zipped his pants and flushed, not bothering to put the seat down, something that would have totally disgusted anything less than a house of four guys. He moved to walk away when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, holding tightly. Brendon looked down, smiling.

“Jesus, man, let me wash my hands first.”

Ryan nodded, releasing his grip and moving his hands to his eyes to rub the sleep out of them. Brendon washed his hands and moved back toward the bathtub, sitting down and wincing a little as his back hit the side of the tub a little too hard.

Ryan scooted over, his hip bumping into Brendon's. Brendon lifted his arm, allowing Ryan to lean into him, his arms snug against Brendon's side, his face buried in Brendon's neck, the cold of his nose making Brendon shiver slightly.

“She called this morning. She said she needed some time.”

“They do that sometimes.”

Ryan laughed softly into Brendon's neck, causing chills to creep up Brendon's spine. Brendon began rubbing small circles and odd shapes on Ryan's back, easing the tension that had been building all day.

“I'm scared, Brendon.”

“I know you are.”

“Tell me what to do.”

Brendon nudged Ryan so that both of them were sitting up, facing each other.

“You don't need her.”

A look of sheer panic crossed Ryan's face.

“I need someone. I've come so far since I didn't even have parents who cared about me. I can't be alone, B. If not her, who?”

Ryan looked as if he were about to start shaking, so Brendon gripped around his waist tighter. Everyone who didn't truly know them always thought that Brendon was the childish one, and sometimes, he could see how they could think that. But Brendon knew that Ryan was the vulnerable one, the one who had the most to lose, the one who would be most devastated if everything collapsed around them. And all Brendon ever wanted to do was make sure Ryan would be okay when all was said and done.


Ryan blinked, not sure he had understood.

“Are you…sure?”


Ryan nodded slowly, as if thinking about something. This could make or break them. Screw being alone- this was what scared him the most. Suddenly, Brendon leaned forward, pressing his lips to Ryan's and Ryan inhaled sharply in surprise. He shifted to better face Brendon, and placed his hands on the other boy's shoulders, holding him in place. Ryan refused to let this be just a dream.

Ryan became more insistent, pushing Brendon backwards until he heard the other boy's back make a small thud against a porcelain surface. Ryan was clutching to anything, anything at all that would make him feel more alive, and in that moment, it was Brendon's touch, scent, lips, hair, moans, whispers. It was Brendon that was making Ryan feel alive.

Ryan tried his hardest to hold on forever, but he slowly felt Brendon moving away, and he ended up leaving a few pecks at the corner of the younger boy's mouth before he could feel Brendon smiling, and feel the short puffs of air that were coming out as chuckles.


“I don't want to stop. I can't…”

“Dude, relax.

Ryan took a few deep breaths, trying to understand why Brendon wanted to stop. It wasn't that Brendon didn't want this. Ryan was practically sprawled across Brendon in this compact space, and it was clear by the occasional poke at Ryan's leg that Brendon was very, very interested in what was going on. Plus, he was still smiling.

“I just don't want make out with you against the thing I just peed in.”

Ryan let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and laughed. He put his hand around Brendon's neck, pulling him forward, and brushed his lips past Brendon's ear, whispering.

“Mood killer.”

Both boys laughed as Ryan stood up first, pulling Brendon up and starting to walk toward the door. This time it was Brendon who reached for the other boy's wrist, pulling him back so that they were practically flush against each other. Now, it was Brendon's time to be vulnerable.

“Wait, this is crazy. You have a girlfriend. Don't you…?”

Earlier, her words had cut him down to a pathetic mess on the bathroom floor. Now, he simply smiled, using her words in a way that she definitely had not meant them.

“I think we need some time.”

Brendon smiled as he leaned in once more and connected his lips with Ryan's for a few seconds. Ryan pulled away as Brendon tried to pull him closer and he laughed happily as Brendon pecked at his neck, tickling him.

“Race you to the bedroom.”

Brendon straightened up, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Jon's? He has the best bed in the entire cabin. I'm so jealous I didn't pick that room.”

“You sure he won't be mad if he finds us?”

“Fuck, I'm hoping he finds us and gets so pissed off that he never wants to use that bed again! Seriously, dude, it's like heaven. If we make enough noise, we're bound to get caught.”

Ryan smirked, distancing himself from Brendon.

“You a screamer, Urie?”

And, that day as he chased Ryan down the hall toward the bedroom, if anyone would have asked Brendon Urie what his words of wisdom would have been, his answer would have probably been something like: People say they need time when they aren't sure if they are truly in love. But being truly in love is needing nothing but time.


The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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