Bittersweet (Panic! at the Disco <Ryden> Fan fiction)

Sometimes Ryan thought it wasn't fair that Brendon was the one allowed to party his ass off at parties and get drunk. He was crazy enough, just being Brendon, but with the added alcohol to his bloodstream, he could turn into an emotional, angry twat. But then again, sometimes Ryan wanted to lose himself to it too.

But having to see the result of Brendon's obsessive drinking one too many times had eaten up that thought.

It was a Friday night and Ryan had chosen to be responsible and try to write some lyrics for their band, Panic! at the Disco, which consisted of him and Brendon as well as their friends Jon and Spencer, Brendon was the lst member to joing Panic but he was a great addition with his voice and Ryan's lyrics.

But none of them new about his drinking problem. Except Ryan who had volenteered to share his appartment with Brendon who needed a place. Kinda big mistake on Ryan's part. In two ways.

No one knew about the massive crush he had developed on Brendon. He knew it was a bad thing. It was like falling for the bad boy. You secretly knew it was a bad thing but you can't help but fall for the attitude. The looks. Him.

Ryan concentrated on the lyrics. His mind was working but disorganized and he couldn't focus.

"FUCK OFF JAY" Brendon's familiar voice yelled slurred and laughing.

Oh god, thought Ryan.

He had a constant fear that maybe the landlord would evict them. They had a bad enough reputation with their neighbours. Children would be awaken by Brendon's swearing and laughing. But not jus childrent, their parets would too.

Brendon stumbled into the living room where Ryan was writing some stuff onto a note pad. He had this goofy smile on his face as he looked at Ryan. His fringe flying into his face.

'Well, look at you. All adorable writing lyrics" he walked over and pinched Ryan in the cheeks, causing them to flush a light shade of red. At least he had a coverup for his blushing.

"Yeah... I have some stuff done" It really was always pointless talking about productivity to drunk Brendon. But he didn't want to seem lame for not saying anything back. Even to drunk Brendon

Looking up from the lyrics, he saw that Brendon had left the living room and we to the connecting open-concept kitchen.

Filling a glass of water from the water filtering jug on the counter. His hands were shaky so he was pouring water half in the cup and half on the counter. Picking it up, he dropped it once again. It shattered on the ground, water spilling and glass shards. Brendon's feet, which were bare got a few cuts. They hurt even though the alcohol numbed and he started to tear up.

"You okay Brendon?" Ryan called from his on the couch, his back turned to him. He was really engrossed to this certain tune he had in his mind and the lyrics that followed.

When no response came, Ryan whipped around to see Brendon standing still, bloode, glass and water covered the tiled floor. Tears stained his eyeliner faintly.

"Oh god, Brendon stand still" he told him, walking over, he held his hand out for him to hold. He did so relectuently. Holding Ryan's hand, he stepped over the mess and into his arms. Luckily Ryan was taller than him and was strong enough. He threw his arm over Ryan's shoulder for support as he was carried to the washroom.

"Sit here" Ryan pointed to the toilet.

"But it's a toilet" laughed Brendon.

Ryan rolled his eyes. So the alcohol did numb the pain.

He took out the small first aid kit which consisted enough stuff for the cuts that weren't that deep. Wiping alcohol across the wounds, Brendon cringed the slightest bit but continued to sing.