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SYAZANA
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♥ Thursday, November 13, 2008

hey you!
i found this amaizing fanfiction about panic at the disco and decided to post it cause its so awsome.
Disclaimer: M18.NOT FOR HOMOPHOBICS(PEOPLE WHO ARE AGAINST GAYS)
ryan and brendon aren't gay remember its fanFICTION.

Brendon shivered in the dark. Ryan’s hands were over his ears, Brendon’s own on top of them. He was growing weary of the collective groan echoing over the yard. He stood up shakily, detaching himself from Ryan’s warm palms. Ryan made a soft protesting noise, and Brendon made his way to the bathtub in the corner. He drew himself a mouthful or two from the standing water, and coughed quietly.“When’s this going to be over?” he rasped. Ryan sighed and shrugged, grabby hands reaching out for the other boy. His mournful, tired eyes connected, long and carefully, with Brendon’s. The smallest walked grudgingly over to the bed and curled up against Ryan’s side once more. “Are we going to be okay?” As he wrapped an arm around Brendon, Ryan swallowed and replied to both questions.“I honestly don’t know.”--Dawn broke every morning with the stench of death wafting through each crack in the window. Brendon hadn’t gotten used to it, and still ran to the broken down bathroom to splash their precious cool water on his face after waking up to stop himself from vomiting.Every night was filled with the sounds of countless unsleeping undead ricocheting off of every side of the house. Ryan sometimes awoke to what he hallucinated as the sound of his mother calling for him, pounding on the door to let her in. He always released a shuddered sigh and went back to sleep.This particular evening, Ryan was sitting on the couch, hunched over a book, willing himself to focus on the words crossing the pages. He blocked out everything else and squinted at the ink on the paper. Brendon crawled over and laid a soft hand on his shoulder. Ryan jumped.“Jesus. Don’t scare me like that,” he breathed, his fitful pools of hazel staring back at Brendon in the darkness. The younger boy smiled gently.“Sorry. I just want to be close to you…” he trailed off. Ryan turned back to his book as he opened an arm to Brendon. The other snuggled down against him and fell lightly asleep. He breathed deeply as Ryan threaded his fingers through the inky hair gently. Before long, he found his own eyelids growing heavy. He looked down at Brendon.“Hey.” He shook the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up, Bren.” The chocolate eyes opened, and Brendon pushed himself up onto one hand, using the other to rub at his eyes.“Mm, what?” Ryan ushered him towards the bed. The pair crawled into the cold sheets and tangled together for warmth. Ryan kissed Brendon’s hair.“Let’s get some sleep. I want to move tomorrow morning.”--The sun rose, and Ryan rolled off of Brendon, expecting him to jump up and dive into the bathroom. Surprisingly, he stayed put, staring at the ceiling. He raked a hand through his disheveled hair and cast his gaze sideways to Ryan. There was an intensity there the older man had never seen before.“Are we really going to do this?” Ryan swallowed, throat gone dry; he nodded determinedly. “Then we’d better get ready to go,” Brendon supplied hoarsely. Ryan continued nodding, trying to psych his self into thinking of this as the absolute best decision they could make, and stood up. Brendon shuffled out into the hallway after him and toed his shoes on, tying the laces tight.“You ready?” Brendon laughed lightly.“Are you kidding? What about…supplies? All our weapons? The…the things we’re leaving…behind…” Suddenly, Brendon was hit with a bag full of reality. Ryan swung his arm out and twined his fingers in Brendon’s.“We can only take what we can carry comfortably… What we can run with.” Brendon took a deep breath and nodded.“Okay. Alright. Um, I’m just going to… Yeah.” He stumbled backward into the bedroom, eyes still wide and unfocused. Ryan followed on quiet feet.“Bren…” he whispered lovingly and enveloped the boy in a tight embrace. “You know we can’t stay here forever. We have to get a move on. Come on…” He began to pull Brendon out of the bedroom and towards the stairs.“A kiss for luck?” Brendon asked, his eyes hopeful. Ryan smiled shakily, and the unspoken ‘and because it might be the last we share’ floated between them. He slid his hands around Brendon’s neck and met their mouths softly. Brendon squeezed his eyes tight and pulled Ryan to him, kissing him deeper. A tear dripped down his cheek as he pulled away slowly.“I’m so sorry, Bren,” Ryan choked. Brendon blinked back the last of his tears, shaking his head intently.“This is so not even your fault,” he laughed uncertainly. Ryan nodded and took up Brendon’s hand.“So how are we going to do this?” Ryan whispered. Brendon scuffed his shoes on the floor.“I thought you had that figured out…” he trailed off. Ryan sucked his lip into his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully before coming up with an answer.“My car’s in the garage.” Brendon’s eyes lit up with hope. Ryan’s face broke into a wide grin.“Ryan, did you ever get to the food bank the other day?” Brendon chuckled lightly.“Um…no, I didn’t,” he supplied nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “So that means…there’s so totally food in the car! Let’s go, come on, no time to waste!” Ryan cheered. Brendon jumped and pulled him down the stairs and out the door to his black car. Brendon swung into the passenger’s seat and buckled up.“So…you’re sure you don’t need this house anymore?” Brendon whispered. He swallowed hard and looked into Ryan’s terrified eyes. “Once we open this garage door, there’s no going back.” Ryan nodded. “Okay. Floor it.” Brendon hit the automatic locks, several times to be sure, and punched the garage opener. With a deafening creak, the under-used door slid up and gray hands scrabbled under the crack. Ryan froze.“Holy shit, dude.”Outside, a mass of undead stood before them. Their lifeless eyes and lackluster skin covered every inch of the desert in Ryan’s front yard. Wheezing and moaning, they moved in sickening waves, pushing mercilessly closer to the car. The closest ones had managed to crawl into the garage and were streaking their rotting hands down the sides of Ryan’s car.“Ryan!” Brendon’s eyes were wide. “Come on! Drive!” Ryan’s hands were shaking on the steering wheel.“There’s… There’s so many of them.”“Dude!” Brendon turned the keys hard, shifted into reverse, and jammed both of his hands down on Ryan’s knee. The car flew backwards, jolting over countless zombies. With a sudden zap back to reality, Ryan’s grip tightened and he swerved onto the road. With hobbling corpses following them, Brendon squished down into his seat and stared determinedly ahead.“That was…horrifying.” Ryan gasped. Brendon let out a nervous chuckle in agreement. “So. Where…exactly are we headed to?” Ryan started after clearing his throat. Brendon let out a relieved sigh as he watched the zombies disappear in the rearview mirror.“I have no fucking clue.” Instinctively, Brendon’s hand reached out to the radio. Upon turning it on, he found nothing but white noise. “This sucks.” He fiddled with the dial, and eventually happened upon a news station.‘…state of terror. Las Vegas is completely overrun. Repeat: Las Vegas is completely and utterly taken over. There is no shelter here. Please continue on to another city. This is an emergency broadcast system. We are in a state of terror. Las Vegas - ’Brendon punched the ‘off’ button, swallowed hard and looked over at Ryan. The other’s brow was creased as he focused on the dusty road. Brendon watched his tired face: the hazel eyes that never quite closed, but never quite opened either; the dull, unkempt hair; the roughness along his unshaven jaw; the total look of brokenness. Brendon swallowed hard and turned his attention back to the radio. He turned it on again and flipped to the next news station.‘…across Death Valley. We’ve gotten some accounts of undead crossing the desert. Can those be confirmed, Mr. Walker?’Brendon’s heart skipped a beat. Walker... It couldn’t be…could it?‘I’m afraid they can’t be confirmed or denied.’Ryan slammed on the brakes.“Jon!” He stared at the radio in awe. Brendon cranked the volume, glancing nervously over his shoulder.“Ryan, keep driving,” he ordered in a hushed voice. The conversation continued.‘Well, you heard it, folks. California is sitting in wait. Thank you, Mr. Walker. Is there anything else you’d like to leave us with?’“No. No! Stay on the radio!” Brendon hit the dashboard hard with his fists. “Don’t– shit, don’t go anywhere!” he choked. Ryan placed a calming hand on his knee and shushed him.‘Well, if you have any developments, please – don’t hesitate to call. Remember: stay safe, stay out of sight, and stay on your feet. We’re broadcasting in Vegas?’‘Correct.’‘Okay. If you can make it across the Valley, please – keep up hope. We’ve got a stronghold in Lone Pine, California – it’s at the Best Western on South Main Street. Please, please, please. Come to us if you need any help. And- …’‘…Is there something else?’‘I’m just… I left some friends in Vegas. I’m just hoping they’re okay. I hope they’re listening to this. Guys… If you can, please. Best Western, South Main. Please.’‘Thank you, Mr. Walker – good luck. Well, it seems - ’Brendon switched off the radio.“You know what we have to do.” Ryan swallowed hard and nodded. Brendon continued, “Do you know how to get there?” Ryan nodded again. “Okay. Let’s go.” He slipped his small hand into Ryan’s and squeezed tightly. “You’re nervous.”“You’re goddamn right I am,” Ryan managed softly. Brendon smiled gently at him.“Tell me how to get there. It’ll ease your nerves.” Ryan took a deep breath and cast his eyes up to the ceiling, thinking.“Okay. Um, we need to get onto…” Brendon took out a pad of paper and pen from the glove compartment. “US-95, for like…an hour and a half. And then, we’re going to take a left onto…” He paused to remember. “373, which will take us into California. That should be about…half an hour at most. Then, a right onto 190, and through the Death Valley for maybe two hours. We should take that as slow as we can, though. I don’t want to get stuck in the middle of the fucking desert,” he laughed. Brendon grinned as he finished scribbling the directions.“And then?” Ryan swallowed, his memory faulting.“Well, maybe we can stop in the town of Death Valley to refuel. We’ll need it. After that, I don’t know… All I know is how to get to Death Valley – I used to drive there on the weekends just to relax. And I didn’t have all this stress then,” he laughed nervously. Brendon chewed lightly on his lower lip.“That’s okay, that’s okay. We can ask someone when we get to Death Valley. No worries.” He jotted down a few more things, and smiled reassuringly at Ryan. “We’ll get through this.”--After three hours in the dry heat, the couple rolled exhaustedly into the small town of Death Valley. Brendon gazed out the window cautiously from behind his oversized sunglasses, and sighed heavily.“Let’s hope this place isn’t overrun yet,” he mumbled, and swung out the door into the arid weather. Ryan followed after, shoes crunching on the dusty earth. Brendon grabbed his hand comfortingly and the two made their way into the gas station.“Hello?” Ryan called. There was a commotion from the back, and a shotgun appeared over the counter. “Shit! Woah, hold on! Peace!” A capped head appeared over the glass surface, and the young man behind the counter visibly relaxed.“Aw, sorry, dude. It’s just… There’ve been a few stragglers through here.” He laughed awkwardly. “You know… All dried out from the desert and just hungry, hungry, hungry.” Ryan nodded carefully and took a step closer.“Hey, so, we’re looking for some gas, water, and directions to Lone Pine.” The frightened clerk came out from behind the counter and pulled his hat off. He pulled a pair of large jugs from a refrigerator in the back.“I’m guessing you guys are headed out to the Best Western?” Brendon nodded. “You’ll want enough for the campers there. I hear they’re getting low.”“Alright. Um, give us four, then,” Ryan decided, yanking his wallet out of his back pocket. “Brendon, will you go gas up the car?” The younger boy nodded, giving Ryan’s hand a squeeze, and walked back out into the sun. The clerk rung up the water, typing numbers into the computer carefully.“Cute kid,” the clerk mumbled, glancing out after Brendon. The corner of Ryan’s mouth twitched into a grin.“Yeah…” The other man looked up and smiled sadly.“Keep an eye on him. I had a sister I brought here from Sacramento a few years back. We were having dinner Wednesday evening when -- ” A yelp came from outside, and Ryan dashed out the front door to find Brendon frozen in place, a pair of zombies mere feet from him.“Bren!” Ryan jolted closer.“Stay back,” the clerk instructed, and ducked back into his shop.“Hey. Hey! Where are you going?” Ryan yelled. He looked back to the zombies as they slowly advanced on Brendon. “B, what are you doing? Run!”“I… I can’t run into the desert – I wouldn’t last a day! Ry– shit, Ry, help,” he breathed, backing up slowly until he hit the car. Ryan put his hands to his head, trying to think.“Brendon,” he whispered, watching in horror, his feet seemingly cemented to the ground. He bit his lip hard, willing his frayed mind to grasp any solution. Brendon was kicking by now, shoving the brittle corpses away as best he could. From his spot several paces away, Ryan could see the tear tracks down his cheeks. His heart fell into pieces. “I can’t… I can’t do anything,” he choked. A gunshot rang out over the flat parking lot, and one of the two assailants fell in a crumpled heap. Ryan spun around to see the clerk, hat pulled low over his eyes, with a shotgun in hand.“Get the other one! Ew ew ew, get it now!” Brendon squealed, dodging it and scooting out of its way. The man lined up his shot and squeezed the trigger again; a direct headshot, two in a row. Ryan stared in awe.“How many have you – ”“Too many. Remember my sister? I did what I had to once they got a hold of her.” The firm line to his jaw made Ryan gulp.“Spencer? Spencer! Where are you?!” Ryan’s frantic call echoed through the empty house he knew so well. He walked past the family photos and threw his best friend’s door open. No one.“Come on, Ryan – he’s gone. Y’think Jon got to him first? I hear he was on his way over. I bet they’re holed up somewhere. They’re fine. We’ve gotta get back, though…” Brendon rubbed a comforting hand along Ryan’s shoulders. The skinny boy nodded, and turned into Brendon’s warm arms.“I just have this awful feeling that he’s just…gone.” Brendon nodded lightly and shushed him. He held him tight against his chest and rocked them back and forth slowly, pressing light kisses in to Ryan’s hair.“We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” With a deafening crash, the kitchen window exploded. Ryan’s head snapped up.“What was that?” Brendon squeezed his fingers into Ryan’s arm, holding tight as the two peered down the hallway. They could hear rummaging and heavy, flat-footed steps. Still attached to Ryan, Brendon began shuffling slowly, silently down the hallway. Shakily, he peered around the corner. A zombie was raiding the fridge, pulling out the rotten lunch meat and shoving it into its waiting mouth. Brendon turned green.“Now,” Ryan said firmly, and tugged on Brendon’s arm. The two pulled out of their embrace and began to tiptoe down the stairs quietly. Five more paces to the door…four…three…two… -- a loud cry came from the kitchen, and Ryan gasped. “Spencer!?” Brendon spun around.“What? Where?” Through the sliver of kitchen doorway, they could see the frame move closer, and a mangled face appeared at the entryway. Spencer. Ryan shuddered as his best friend’s reanimated corpse began to trip over the living room carpet, advancing on them. Brendon squeezed his hand tightly. “Ryan. Do something,” he sobbed.“Spencer…” Hoping on luck, with his eyes shut tight, Ryan lifted his pistol and pulled the trigger, a straight shot for Spencer’s head. He missed and hit the wall. Brendon nudged his side urgently.“Come on, dude! I know he was your friend… But he’s going to eat us – do it now!” Ryan took a steadying breath and realigned his shot. He kept his wide hazel eyes open, watching his former best friend’s gray matter fly over the grimy walls. A breath shuddered into him, and Brendon pulled him hastily back to their house.“Hey man, you okay?” Ryan shook his head and brought a steadying hand to his temple.“Uh, yeah. Just…just a flashback. I just need some water.” Concernedly, the clerk unhooked his own bottle from his belt.“Here, dude – take some of mine.” Ryan took a long grateful sip. “So, um… You two said you’re headed for Lone Pine?” Brendon shuffled up to Ryan’s side and wrapped himself up in the taller man’s arms. He buried his face in Ryan’s shoulder and trembled weakly. Ryan bit back a wave of tears and nodded.“Yeah. A-a friend of ours is waiting for us there.” The other man nodded, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.“Okay. From here you’ll wanna take… CA-136, then a right turn onto US-395. It should only be about 19 miles from here on.” Ryan thanked him heartily, and turned back to his car. “Anything else I can do for you two?” He seemed hesitant, almost obligated. Ryan sighed heavily.“I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do for us now.”--With the air conditioning on and the comfortable silence, Ryan couldn’t even tell that they were in the middle of the desert. Of course, he wouldn’t dwell on it or anything of the sort… It just struck him as something that Brendon would think of. Brendon. He looked over to the passenger seat, where his lover was curled up uncomfortably, head pillowed on the ratcheted seatbelt and swinging precariously from time to time. Ryan breathed quieter, not wanting to disturb him at all.“Almost there…” he whispered soothingly as Brendon muttered in his sleep. “We’re almost to the hotel. Don’t worry.” Ryan’s fingers found their way to Brendon’s, and the two clasped hands solidly.--Lone Pine seemed to rise out of a mirage. At first, that’s what Ryan thought it was, heat waves shimmering and swaying over the sand. With a mile more, they could clearly see the buildings. Brendon had woken up a few minutes ago, and still had the queasy after-nap feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was currently clutching his abdomen, gazing intently out the window, and swallowing big mouthfuls of water. Ryan looked over at him cautiously.“Are you alright?” Brendon glanced over and a grin lit up his features.“Perfectly fine. Just a little…off-kilter from the nap. I’ll be awesome once I get moving.” Ryan nodded unsurely and turned his eyes back to the road. The Best Western sign flew into view, and Brendon squealed lightly in the back of his throat.“Redemption,” Ryan breathed, smiling for once, and parked the car out front. There were a handful of dusty, beat-up cars in similar positions to his, and he figured they weren’t the only ones who had heard the broadcast. With a confident deep breath, he unbuckled his seat and swung out into the desert air.“So where’s Jon?” Brendon, true to form, had regained his energy once out of the car. He bounced nervously on his toes. Ryan climbed out of the vehicle slowly. “Ryan… I’m not entirely sure we have the most time in the world right now. Let’s get inside.” Ryan nodded sensibly.“I’ll get the water and supplies – you go get Jon. Tell him to come out and help.” Ryan suddenly paused and looked around shiftily. “Hey, B, on second thought… Stay out here with me?” Brendon smiled softly.“Sure thing.” He took Ryan’s warm hand in his hand the two rifled through the trunk quickly. They grabbed up the water jugs and made their way clumsily to the front door. The wooden surface was sand-scarred and solid, and Brendon knocked loudly until his knuckles were screaming in protest. Slowly, they heard a commotion behind the door. Several things slid across the floor, and there was muffled talking.“Tell us your name where you’re from,” came a distant, tired voice. Ryan and Brendon looked at each other. Ryan cleared his throat.“Uh, Las Vegas. A suburb, Summerlin. R-Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie.” They waited patiently, and soon began to hear locks twisting, and the door creaked open. A worn-looking woman stood in the door, her curly blonde hair tied back into a pony tail and pink striped tank-top hanging from her thin shoulders.“Come on in. Sorry about that. We have to make sure… We’ve gotten radio calls from the cities – we don’t let any of their ‘survivors’ in. Don’t know how many could have been bitten.” She introduced herself as Greta and helped them bring the water in.“But… Vegas is in a state of pandemonium. Why did you – ” There was a loud commotion from the hallway, and their attention snapped around. Greta ignored the noise and continued to pull in water jugs. Brendon wound his hand into Ryan’s as a figure made its way around the corner.“Holy fuck!” The bearded face broke into an easy smile. “Guys! I thought you were… I thought you were left for dead!”“Jon!” Brendon leapt out of Ryan’s reach and crushed the other man in a hug. Jon picked him up and swung him around happily. Ryan grinned and slowly made his way over to join in.“I was so worried that you weren’t going to survive…” Jon whispered, hugging his friends tightly. “Spencer’s bringing more water from your trunk?” Ryan and Brendon froze.“Um. Jon, he…” Ryan swallowed. “The last time we saw him, he was eating rotten lunch meat…because he couldn’t get to us.” Jon’s eyes were wide and unfocused, and he stared at the carpet. He gulped hard.“I see.” Gently, he set Brendon on the floor again. “W-well. Thanks for the water. We’ll put it in our stock room right away. As for now… Let me give you guys the grand tour.” Walking stiff and mechanical, Jon led them down the dark hallway.--As they made their way through the inn, Brendon gazed out through boarded windows over the desolate wasteland of a landscape. He paused at one particularly large knothole and stared out over the dunes and into the diamond blue horizon. The world stretched on forever from here. As far as he was concerned, the earth just kept going and going and going, spinning all the way around, completely desert, until it came up and tapped you on the back again. And it just kept surfing off into the distance –“Bear? You okay?” Ryan’s comforting hand on his shoulder made him jump.“Yeah. Yeah, just a little tired…” Brendon shrugged, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve just gotta get used to this.” Jon paused at the top of the stairs, quietly answering a radio call. Ryan nudged Brendon back against the red wallpaper and put his mouth softly against his ear.“Hey. If you wanna just…head off somewhere and save this tour for when you feel better, let me know.” Ryan pulled back to look Brendon in the eyes. “I don’t mind if you need to get away from this all. You’re having the hardest time digesting it.” Brendon rolled his eyes and forced a smile.“I’ll be fine. Promise.”--In the dead of night, Brendon’s imagination was running away with him. Over the sand outside, he could hear dragging footsteps and quiet cries of hunger. He rolled closer to Ryan and plugged his ears, trying to fall asleep. Ryan stirred and sat up shallowly.“Brendon?” The smaller boy whimpered lightly. “Brendon, what’s wrong?” Ryan pulled his lover on top of him. Brendon opened his eyes and stared at Ryan.“I can’t sleep. Not one wink.” Ryan carefully tucked Brendon’s head under his chin.“Shh. You’re okay – this place is as safe as the White House, okay? You’ll be fine.”“I can hear them,” Brendon muttered. “I can hear them out on the sand. They come in waves, and sometimes they get so loud that I don’t know how you can just sleep through them.” Ryan rubbed his back lightly.“You’re imagining things. You’ve just got to get used to your surroundings. You’ll be fine.”With Brendon shivering against his chest, the two fell into a fitful sleep.--When the two awoke in the morning, they could hear dishes being moved in the kitchen underneath their room. Brendon sat up, straddling Ryan’s stomach, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The warm smell of buttered pancakes came up through the floorboards, and Brendon grinned through a yawn. He rubbed his hands over Ryan’s bare chest, waking him up.“Morning, sleepyhead. Breakfast is on downstairs,” Brendon mumbled. Ryan stared up at him softly, watching the dust dance about his face in the shafts of light coming from between the window boards. He sat up quickly and grabbed Brendon about his middle, holding him close as he kissed across his face.“Good morning to you too!” he laughed, catching Brendon’s lower lip in his teeth as he tipped the younger boy backwards. Brendon giggled, and slipped his fingers through Ryan’s hair as they kissed. Brendon shifted and pulled away from Ryan, panting lightly.“C’mon, I’m hungry.” Brendon skipped off the bed and to the dresser, where they had stashed the few clothes they had. He shimmied into his jeans, tugged on a yellow shirt, and turned to watch Ryan, who was still sitting in the bed, just smiling at him. “Aren’t you going to get up? They’re making pancakes.” Brendon swung out of the room and trotted down the stairs with Ryan laughing after him.--A slow week had passed, and the boys had fallen into the rhythm of the Lone Pine Inn.Every morning, breakfast was served in silence while the 8 survivors listened to the radios, each of the four handhelds tuned to a separate station. Afterwards, there wasn’t much one could do. They sufficed for entertainment by playing cards, reading, talking lowly with one another, and listening to the ever-present chatter over the radio.“Is this going to be the rest of our life?” Brendon asked timidly as Ryan made their bed one afternoon. Ryan shook the duvet out with a sharp snap.“I’m not sure,” he breathed. “I mean, nothing lasts forever. Eventually, these ghouls are going to run out of victims and just…decay.” Brendon frowned. As a child who was easily fascinated by anything and, rest assured, everything, his knowledge of ancient Egyptian mummies was flooding back to him.“But Ryan…we’re in a desert. If they come in here, they won’t decay. Their skin will just harden over and they’ll be preserved. We’ll have to kill them before they disappear.” Brendon’s gaze had melted into the wall, and he merely stared into the space before him.“Bear, don’t worry about it.” Ryan settled the pillows into their place and turned to gather Brendon into his arms. “We’ll make it – we’re tough,” Ryan growled, and bit the giggling boy’s neck gently. Brendon sighed softly and lounged against his companion.“C’mon… They’ll want us downstairs to help reshelf the food.” Brendon untangled himself from Ryan and pulled him down the steps by his hands. “Then I want your help with something.” Ryan, feeling slightly confused, stumbled down after Brendon and into the kitchen. Greta was slumped over the table, a hand wound in her disheveled hair, listening intently to the radio.“Anything new, Greta?” Brendon greeted as he sat down across from her. She sighed and shook her head.“Just the same old, same old…”--“I’m getting worried, you guys,” Jon whispered. Ryan looked up from his and Brendon’s game of checkers. They could hear Greta making dinner in the kitchen, humming a tune softly.“Peter and Andy?” he asked, flipping his brown hair from his eyes. Jon nodded shortly.“They were supposed to be back by nightfall.” Brendon stood up, stretched his back into a long arc, and started up the stairs.“I’ll go take a look around.” He vanished into a room on the second floor. Ryan dropped his head to the table with a muttered ‘goddamnit’. Jon sat up, elbows on his knees, and reached out to his friend.“What’s wrong?”“I’m just always so worried about him…”“Don’t be – he can take care of himself, you know,” Jon chuckled.“Yes, but…he’s always so afraid. And then he comes crying to me, and I never feel like I can do anything. I’m always…stuck. Stuck playing the protector with his hands tied. I feel so helpless.” Jon pulled Ryan up onto the couch and into a bear hug.“Don’t worry about it, dude. There’s nothing you can do; nothing any of us can do. We’ve just got to take these things as they come to us.” Ryan nodded and stood up. He flashed a smile at Jon.“Thanks, man. I’m gonna go give Greta a hand… Call if you ever need anything.”Brendon skipped down the stairs, a mixed emotion on his face. He cannon-balled onto the couch next to Jon and rubbed his hands together.“Well, good news and bad news.” He held out a thumbs-up and thumbs-down. Jon thought for a moment, and gave a fist bump to the thumbs up.“Okay, good news first. There are no crazy massive hoards of undead outside this fine establishment!” Brendon grinned. “But…the bad news is that there’s no sign of Pete and Andy’s car, either.”“That’s alright… It’s kind of what I figured anyways,” Jon sighed sullenly. “Well, thank you for looking, Bear. It’s almost time for dinner.” The two made their way into the cozy kitchen and pretended that everything was going smoothly.--“Ryan.”Brendon had been up for 3 hours straight now – he’d be counting. Again, he kissed Ryan’s shoulder gently.“Ryan, wake up.”The older man opened his eyes slowly. He barely had time to figure out what was going on when Brendon’s mouth pressed against his. He pushed himself up on his elbows, leaning into his lover. In the dark, he felt Brendon’s hand catch in his hair, holding him close as they kissed hungry and slow, like sleep-induced molasses. Ryan managed to pull himself away, and he fell back onto the mattress, breathing hard.“Brendon, what on earth – ““Tell me you love me,” the younger man urged, crawling to straddle Ryan, peering down at his face.“Brendon, I love you more than – ““Please,” was all Brendon choked out before he glued his mouth to Ryan’s again. He tugged on Ryan’s lip, sending a shiver down his lover’s spine. Ryan tangled his hands through Brendon’s messy hair and pulled him even closer, moaning lowly into his mouth. Brendon’s warm hands slid up Ryan’s bare chest, and Ryan flipped him down onto the bed, twisting the sheets around their legs.Following his instincts in the dark, Ryan’s fingers trailed down Brendon’s stomach and rubbed against the bulge in Brendon’s shorts. Brendon, squirming and panting, reached for Ryan’s boxers. The two boys’ mouths met again, and Brendon groaned as he slipped his hand around Ryan’s length.“I’ve missed you,” Brendon gasped, threading his fingers through Ryan’s hair as the older boy placed soft kisses down the middle of his chest.“I’ve been right here,” he mumbled. “All you had to do was ask.” Ryan sat up and managed to make out the silhouette of Brendon’s form in the dark. He could see the chest, slowly moving up and down; the face, eyes screwed shut; the hands, clenching the sheets.“Ryan,” Brendon whined lightly. “Ryan, I – ““Shh. Quiet down now. I’m not going anywhere,” Ryan hushed, and weaved his fingers through Brendon’s. “I’ll be here forever. For whatever you need.” Ryan crawled over Brendon again, and kissed him deeply. Relaxing in his love’s arms, Brendon sank into the mattress and wrapped his legs around Ryan’s waist.Ryan pushed his hips against Brendon’s, hissing at the friction between their thinly clothed bodies. Brendon tossed his head back onto the pillow and moaned. Ryan claimed his mouth again, stifling the noises that would carry so well through such a big, empty building. Brendon thrust back against him, holding his mouth to Ryan’s, kissing him like it was their last night on earth. Ryan turned his head, breathing deep, still moving against his love. He bit onto Brendon’s shoulder, groaning as he sped up. Brendon gasped to the ceiling, arching his back as he came. Ryan followed, slumping against his lover’s warm skin.“For some reason,” Brendon began hoarsely when his breathing had slowed, “I feel like I should already miss that.”“Stop that nonsense,” Ryan breathed. “We’ll be fine.” As he tugged the covers over them, twined together and falling fast asleep, he repeated his mantra: “We’ll be just fine.”--“So, um…” Jon walked awkwardly into the kitchen the next morning. Ryan and Brendon looked up simultaneously from their bowls of cold cereal. “…Yeah.” Ryan and Brendon glanced at each other, before Ryan’s cheeks colored and Brendon burst out laughing.“Yes, Jonathon?”“Uhh, nothing, really. I just… Hi, what’s up?” Ryan raised an eyebrow at him.“Was there a reason you’re standing in the doorway, stammering? Or…?” Jon cleared his throat and looked at the clock on the wall.“Actually, yes. I’ve been listening to the radio this morning, and the news isn’t so great this time.” Jon pulled a chair out and sat down with his head in his hands. “It seems that there’s a group of zombies crossing the desert right now. They’re going to hit the inn at an estimated 2:00.” Ryan and Brendon immediately turned to stare at the clock; the time was now 12:49.“Shit. That leaves us just over an hour…” Ryan mumbled, and put down his spoon.“Yeah. So Greta and I… We were considering making a run for Fresno… That’s about 5 hours away.” Ryan and Brendon looked at each other again. Brendon was the first to speak.“Do you think we can make it?” Jon looked down at the table again.“I think we have a chance.”--“Is that the last of it?” Jon hollered into the inn. Ryan and Greta were each carrying a last armload of canned food.“Should be!” Brendon called back, the last of the water jugs in his arms. “Let’s get this stowed away and then get out of here,” he said as he set the jug on the front porch.“Sure thing,” Jon agreed as he tucked the last of the food into the trunk. “Are you guys ready to leave?” Brendon looked at Ryan, who looked at Greta.“I’m ready whenever you two are,” she said softly. Ryan nodded, and Brendon grabbed for his hand.“Yeah, let’s go.”The four survivors piled into Jon’s blue car, the water jugs tucked in the back seat next to Ryan and Brendon, and set off, hoping that the lack of broadcasts from Fresno didn’t mean what they thought it would.--“Holy shit,” Ryan breathed, gazing out over the city of Fresno.Fires blazed from the tops of buildings, and there were broken down vehicles littering the streets. A handful of buses had piled up a mile or two down the road, forming an impassable barrier. Jon swallowed hard and turned the car down the nearest street.“We’ve got a choice now…” he began unsurely. “We’re low on gas. We can either look for a station around the city, or we can settle down here. With gas, we can surely make it to Sacramento… Whether it’s a better situation or not, we won’t know until we get there.”The car was silent.“I think…” Greta said slowly, “that we should get the hell out of here.” A chorus of agreement came from the back seat, and Brendon squeezed Ryan’s hand tightly.“Let’s just find some gas and get to Sacramento,” he whispered in a frightened voice. “I just want to get somewhere safe, and this place gives me the heebie-jeebies.” Jon put the car in drive again and they set off in search of a gas station.--“Hey, there’s a Shell around the corner!” Brendon cheered. The street lights had begun popping on, one by one, as twilight fell over the destroyed city. Jon steered the car to the first available pump and reached for the lock on his door.“Greta, can you…?” She nodded once and climbed out her own door, pistol in hand, to stand on the roof of the car. Keeping watch around the station, she was hunched with her finger on the trigger. Jon fumbled with the gas hose, flinching at every small sound.“Greta!” yelled Brendon, spying a limping corpse headed at their car from the minimart nearby. She spun and fired a shot for its head, but missed. The bullet ricocheted off of the doorframe, and she lined up another shot. Suddenly a wave of hungry moans filled the small station, and Jon froze with terror.“Greta… How many can you see?” She counted quickly, her eyes widening.“At least 30. How many gallons have you got left?”“Two. Hold them off.”Brendon listened to the calm exchange, completely horrified as he watched the undead converge on them. He began trembling, and Ryan put his hands over Brendon’s ears, pulling his face into his chest to block out the masses. They heard Jon drop the gas hose, and in a matter of seconds, he swung back into the car. Greta hopped quickly into her seat, and they slammed the doors. Jon stepped on the gas and the car shot through the wall of approaching zombies.“Goddamnit,” Jon cursed through his clenched teeth, as the car was immobile against the writing masses of undead. He floored it several times more, but it had become stuck. With a sickening crunch, he managed to mow over a handful of zombies, but he knew it was no good. He slammed his hands down on the horn in frustration.“Back it up! Back it up!” Greta muttered frantically, and locked the car into reverse. Jon slammed on the gas and the car flew back. He put it in drive again and turned toward a thinner wall of bodies. This time, he managed to blast through them, scattering their limbs across the ground.“Careful – don’t wreck the car,” Ryan warned anxiously as Jon sped around a corner. Brendon picked his head up from Ryan’s chest and glanced around.“Wait a second – we’re going south! Jon, wait, turn around – ““Shit,” Jon mumbled, and pulled a quick U-turn and slammed on the brakes. “Thanks, Bear,” he muttered gratefully. He was just about to start the car again when the zombies began hobbling down the street towards the car. “Jesus, not again,” he growled, and revved the engine. “Hold on – I’m just going to plow them.” Ryan and Brendon braced themselves for the plan, smiling hopefully at each other, when Ryan’s eyes strayed to Greta’s window.A zombie had gotten a hold of the door handle.“Greta! Lock your door! Lock it now!” Ryan yelled fruitlessly as the door opened and the stench of rotting flesh poured in. Greta screamed as several gray, dead hands reached in for her. She sobbed her goodbyes, mixed with useless ‘help me’s as she was dragged off into the night, kicking and screaming.“Jon, fucking drive!” Brendon cried as more hands reached into the door. Jon was frozen with shock, though, and merely stared at them, mesmerized, as the grabbled for him.“Shit,” Ryan whispered, and pulled Brendon into his lap. “Shit shit shit.” Brendon wrapped his arms and legs around Ryan, squeezing them together tightly.“I guess this’ll be it, then,” Brendon whispered softly. Jon yelled as teeth sunk into his arm, and he was pulled out the door, streaking blood across the upholstery. Tears began falling from Brendon’s eyes, and he took Ryan’s face in his hands. “Listen to me. Listen: I love you so much. So much,” he sobbed, and kissed his love gently. Ryan tightened his grip on Brendon’s sides.“Don’t go!” he cried, but Brendon merely shook his head. By now, both front doors were open, and zombies were crawling in, catching their gnarled fingers in Brendon’s t-shirt. He was sobbing, screaming when they tore at his arms, pulling him out of both sides of the car like a game of cannibal tug-of-war, and Ryan simply squeezed his eyes shut.He pressed his hands over his ears, blocking out the screaming sobs from the front seat, and curled into a ball as he felt their cold hands over his arms.

i don't think you guys would understand unless you are a hardcore panic at the disco fan

shut up!1:57 AM


♥ Thursday, November 13, 2008

hey you!
i found this amaizing fanfiction about panic at the disco and decided to post it cause its so awsome.
Disclaimer: M18.NOT FOR HOMOPHOBICS(PEOPLE WHO ARE AGAINST GAYS)
ryan and brendon aren't gay remember its fanFICTION.

Brendon shivered in the dark. Ryan’s hands were over his ears, Brendon’s own on top of them. He was growing weary of the collective groan echoing over the yard. He stood up shakily, detaching himself from Ryan’s warm palms. Ryan made a soft protesting noise, and Brendon made his way to the bathtub in the corner. He drew himself a mouthful or two from the standing water, and coughed quietly.“When’s this going to be over?” he rasped. Ryan sighed and shrugged, grabby hands reaching out for the other boy. His mournful, tired eyes connected, long and carefully, with Brendon’s. The smallest walked grudgingly over to the bed and curled up against Ryan’s side once more. “Are we going to be okay?” As he wrapped an arm around Brendon, Ryan swallowed and replied to both questions.“I honestly don’t know.”--Dawn broke every morning with the stench of death wafting through each crack in the window. Brendon hadn’t gotten used to it, and still ran to the broken down bathroom to splash their precious cool water on his face after waking up to stop himself from vomiting.Every night was filled with the sounds of countless unsleeping undead ricocheting off of every side of the house. Ryan sometimes awoke to what he hallucinated as the sound of his mother calling for him, pounding on the door to let her in. He always released a shuddered sigh and went back to sleep.This particular evening, Ryan was sitting on the couch, hunched over a book, willing himself to focus on the words crossing the pages. He blocked out everything else and squinted at the ink on the paper. Brendon crawled over and laid a soft hand on his shoulder. Ryan jumped.“Jesus. Don’t scare me like that,” he breathed, his fitful pools of hazel staring back at Brendon in the darkness. The younger boy smiled gently.“Sorry. I just want to be close to you…” he trailed off. Ryan turned back to his book as he opened an arm to Brendon. The other snuggled down against him and fell lightly asleep. He breathed deeply as Ryan threaded his fingers through the inky hair gently. Before long, he found his own eyelids growing heavy. He looked down at Brendon.“Hey.” He shook the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up, Bren.” The chocolate eyes opened, and Brendon pushed himself up onto one hand, using the other to rub at his eyes.“Mm, what?” Ryan ushered him towards the bed. The pair crawled into the cold sheets and tangled together for warmth. Ryan kissed Brendon’s hair.“Let’s get some sleep. I want to move tomorrow morning.”--The sun rose, and Ryan rolled off of Brendon, expecting him to jump up and dive into the bathroom. Surprisingly, he stayed put, staring at the ceiling. He raked a hand through his disheveled hair and cast his gaze sideways to Ryan. There was an intensity there the older man had never seen before.“Are we really going to do this?” Ryan swallowed, throat gone dry; he nodded determinedly. “Then we’d better get ready to go,” Brendon supplied hoarsely. Ryan continued nodding, trying to psych his self into thinking of this as the absolute best decision they could make, and stood up. Brendon shuffled out into the hallway after him and toed his shoes on, tying the laces tight.“You ready?” Brendon laughed lightly.“Are you kidding? What about…supplies? All our weapons? The…the things we’re leaving…behind…” Suddenly, Brendon was hit with a bag full of reality. Ryan swung his arm out and twined his fingers in Brendon’s.“We can only take what we can carry comfortably… What we can run with.” Brendon took a deep breath and nodded.“Okay. Alright. Um, I’m just going to… Yeah.” He stumbled backward into the bedroom, eyes still wide and unfocused. Ryan followed on quiet feet.“Bren…” he whispered lovingly and enveloped the boy in a tight embrace. “You know we can’t stay here forever. We have to get a move on. Come on…” He began to pull Brendon out of the bedroom and towards the stairs.“A kiss for luck?” Brendon asked, his eyes hopeful. Ryan smiled shakily, and the unspoken ‘and because it might be the last we share’ floated between them. He slid his hands around Brendon’s neck and met their mouths softly. Brendon squeezed his eyes tight and pulled Ryan to him, kissing him deeper. A tear dripped down his cheek as he pulled away slowly.“I’m so sorry, Bren,” Ryan choked. Brendon blinked back the last of his tears, shaking his head intently.“This is so not even your fault,” he laughed uncertainly. Ryan nodded and took up Brendon’s hand.“So how are we going to do this?” Ryan whispered. Brendon scuffed his shoes on the floor.“I thought you had that figured out…” he trailed off. Ryan sucked his lip into his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully before coming up with an answer.“My car’s in the garage.” Brendon’s eyes lit up with hope. Ryan’s face broke into a wide grin.“Ryan, did you ever get to the food bank the other day?” Brendon chuckled lightly.“Um…no, I didn’t,” he supplied nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “So that means…there’s so totally food in the car! Let’s go, come on, no time to waste!” Ryan cheered. Brendon jumped and pulled him down the stairs and out the door to his black car. Brendon swung into the passenger’s seat and buckled up.“So…you’re sure you don’t need this house anymore?” Brendon whispered. He swallowed hard and looked into Ryan’s terrified eyes. “Once we open this garage door, there’s no going back.” Ryan nodded. “Okay. Floor it.” Brendon hit the automatic locks, several times to be sure, and punched the garage opener. With a deafening creak, the under-used door slid up and gray hands scrabbled under the crack. Ryan froze.“Holy shit, dude.”Outside, a mass of undead stood before them. Their lifeless eyes and lackluster skin covered every inch of the desert in Ryan’s front yard. Wheezing and moaning, they moved in sickening waves, pushing mercilessly closer to the car. The closest ones had managed to crawl into the garage and were streaking their rotting hands down the sides of Ryan’s car.“Ryan!” Brendon’s eyes were wide. “Come on! Drive!” Ryan’s hands were shaking on the steering wheel.“There’s… There’s so many of them.”“Dude!” Brendon turned the keys hard, shifted into reverse, and jammed both of his hands down on Ryan’s knee. The car flew backwards, jolting over countless zombies. With a sudden zap back to reality, Ryan’s grip tightened and he swerved onto the road. With hobbling corpses following them, Brendon squished down into his seat and stared determinedly ahead.“That was…horrifying.” Ryan gasped. Brendon let out a nervous chuckle in agreement. “So. Where…exactly are we headed to?” Ryan started after clearing his throat. Brendon let out a relieved sigh as he watched the zombies disappear in the rearview mirror.“I have no fucking clue.” Instinctively, Brendon’s hand reached out to the radio. Upon turning it on, he found nothing but white noise. “This sucks.” He fiddled with the dial, and eventually happened upon a news station.‘…state of terror. Las Vegas is completely overrun. Repeat: Las Vegas is completely and utterly taken over. There is no shelter here. Please continue on to another city. This is an emergency broadcast system. We are in a state of terror. Las Vegas - ’Brendon punched the ‘off’ button, swallowed hard and looked over at Ryan. The other’s brow was creased as he focused on the dusty road. Brendon watched his tired face: the hazel eyes that never quite closed, but never quite opened either; the dull, unkempt hair; the roughness along his unshaven jaw; the total look of brokenness. Brendon swallowed hard and turned his attention back to the radio. He turned it on again and flipped to the next news station.‘…across Death Valley. We’ve gotten some accounts of undead crossing the desert. Can those be confirmed, Mr. Walker?’Brendon’s heart skipped a beat. Walker... It couldn’t be…could it?‘I’m afraid they can’t be confirmed or denied.’Ryan slammed on the brakes.“Jon!” He stared at the radio in awe. Brendon cranked the volume, glancing nervously over his shoulder.“Ryan, keep driving,” he ordered in a hushed voice. The conversation continued.‘Well, you heard it, folks. California is sitting in wait. Thank you, Mr. Walker. Is there anything else you’d like to leave us with?’“No. No! Stay on the radio!” Brendon hit the dashboard hard with his fists. “Don’t– shit, don’t go anywhere!” he choked. Ryan placed a calming hand on his knee and shushed him.‘Well, if you have any developments, please – don’t hesitate to call. Remember: stay safe, stay out of sight, and stay on your feet. We’re broadcasting in Vegas?’‘Correct.’‘Okay. If you can make it across the Valley, please – keep up hope. We’ve got a stronghold in Lone Pine, California – it’s at the Best Western on South Main Street. Please, please, please. Come to us if you need any help. And- …’‘…Is there something else?’‘I’m just… I left some friends in Vegas. I’m just hoping they’re okay. I hope they’re listening to this. Guys… If you can, please. Best Western, South Main. Please.’‘Thank you, Mr. Walker – good luck. Well, it seems - ’Brendon switched off the radio.“You know what we have to do.” Ryan swallowed hard and nodded. Brendon continued, “Do you know how to get there?” Ryan nodded again. “Okay. Let’s go.” He slipped his small hand into Ryan’s and squeezed tightly. “You’re nervous.”“You’re goddamn right I am,” Ryan managed softly. Brendon smiled gently at him.“Tell me how to get there. It’ll ease your nerves.” Ryan took a deep breath and cast his eyes up to the ceiling, thinking.“Okay. Um, we need to get onto…” Brendon took out a pad of paper and pen from the glove compartment. “US-95, for like…an hour and a half. And then, we’re going to take a left onto…” He paused to remember. “373, which will take us into California. That should be about…half an hour at most. Then, a right onto 190, and through the Death Valley for maybe two hours. We should take that as slow as we can, though. I don’t want to get stuck in the middle of the fucking desert,” he laughed. Brendon grinned as he finished scribbling the directions.“And then?” Ryan swallowed, his memory faulting.“Well, maybe we can stop in the town of Death Valley to refuel. We’ll need it. After that, I don’t know… All I know is how to get to Death Valley – I used to drive there on the weekends just to relax. And I didn’t have all this stress then,” he laughed nervously. Brendon chewed lightly on his lower lip.“That’s okay, that’s okay. We can ask someone when we get to Death Valley. No worries.” He jotted down a few more things, and smiled reassuringly at Ryan. “We’ll get through this.”--After three hours in the dry heat, the couple rolled exhaustedly into the small town of Death Valley. Brendon gazed out the window cautiously from behind his oversized sunglasses, and sighed heavily.“Let’s hope this place isn’t overrun yet,” he mumbled, and swung out the door into the arid weather. Ryan followed after, shoes crunching on the dusty earth. Brendon grabbed his hand comfortingly and the two made their way into the gas station.“Hello?” Ryan called. There was a commotion from the back, and a shotgun appeared over the counter. “Shit! Woah, hold on! Peace!” A capped head appeared over the glass surface, and the young man behind the counter visibly relaxed.“Aw, sorry, dude. It’s just… There’ve been a few stragglers through here.” He laughed awkwardly. “You know… All dried out from the desert and just hungry, hungry, hungry.” Ryan nodded carefully and took a step closer.“Hey, so, we’re looking for some gas, water, and directions to Lone Pine.” The frightened clerk came out from behind the counter and pulled his hat off. He pulled a pair of large jugs from a refrigerator in the back.“I’m guessing you guys are headed out to the Best Western?” Brendon nodded. “You’ll want enough for the campers there. I hear they’re getting low.”“Alright. Um, give us four, then,” Ryan decided, yanking his wallet out of his back pocket. “Brendon, will you go gas up the car?” The younger boy nodded, giving Ryan’s hand a squeeze, and walked back out into the sun. The clerk rung up the water, typing numbers into the computer carefully.“Cute kid,” the clerk mumbled, glancing out after Brendon. The corner of Ryan’s mouth twitched into a grin.“Yeah…” The other man looked up and smiled sadly.“Keep an eye on him. I had a sister I brought here from Sacramento a few years back. We were having dinner Wednesday evening when -- ” A yelp came from outside, and Ryan dashed out the front door to find Brendon frozen in place, a pair of zombies mere feet from him.“Bren!” Ryan jolted closer.“Stay back,” the clerk instructed, and ducked back into his shop.“Hey. Hey! Where are you going?” Ryan yelled. He looked back to the zombies as they slowly advanced on Brendon. “B, what are you doing? Run!”“I… I can’t run into the desert – I wouldn’t last a day! Ry– shit, Ry, help,” he breathed, backing up slowly until he hit the car. Ryan put his hands to his head, trying to think.“Brendon,” he whispered, watching in horror, his feet seemingly cemented to the ground. He bit his lip hard, willing his frayed mind to grasp any solution. Brendon was kicking by now, shoving the brittle corpses away as best he could. From his spot several paces away, Ryan could see the tear tracks down his cheeks. His heart fell into pieces. “I can’t… I can’t do anything,” he choked. A gunshot rang out over the flat parking lot, and one of the two assailants fell in a crumpled heap. Ryan spun around to see the clerk, hat pulled low over his eyes, with a shotgun in hand.“Get the other one! Ew ew ew, get it now!” Brendon squealed, dodging it and scooting out of its way. The man lined up his shot and squeezed the trigger again; a direct headshot, two in a row. Ryan stared in awe.“How many have you – ”“Too many. Remember my sister? I did what I had to once they got a hold of her.” The firm line to his jaw made Ryan gulp.“Spencer? Spencer! Where are you?!” Ryan’s frantic call echoed through the empty house he knew so well. He walked past the family photos and threw his best friend’s door open. No one.“Come on, Ryan – he’s gone. Y’think Jon got to him first? I hear he was on his way over. I bet they’re holed up somewhere. They’re fine. We’ve gotta get back, though…” Brendon rubbed a comforting hand along Ryan’s shoulders. The skinny boy nodded, and turned into Brendon’s warm arms.“I just have this awful feeling that he’s just…gone.” Brendon nodded lightly and shushed him. He held him tight against his chest and rocked them back and forth slowly, pressing light kisses in to Ryan’s hair.“We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” With a deafening crash, the kitchen window exploded. Ryan’s head snapped up.“What was that?” Brendon squeezed his fingers into Ryan’s arm, holding tight as the two peered down the hallway. They could hear rummaging and heavy, flat-footed steps. Still attached to Ryan, Brendon began shuffling slowly, silently down the hallway. Shakily, he peered around the corner. A zombie was raiding the fridge, pulling out the rotten lunch meat and shoving it into its waiting mouth. Brendon turned green.“Now,” Ryan said firmly, and tugged on Brendon’s arm. The two pulled out of their embrace and began to tiptoe down the stairs quietly. Five more paces to the door…four…three…two… -- a loud cry came from the kitchen, and Ryan gasped. “Spencer!?” Brendon spun around.“What? Where?” Through the sliver of kitchen doorway, they could see the frame move closer, and a mangled face appeared at the entryway. Spencer. Ryan shuddered as his best friend’s reanimated corpse began to trip over the living room carpet, advancing on them. Brendon squeezed his hand tightly. “Ryan. Do something,” he sobbed.“Spencer…” Hoping on luck, with his eyes shut tight, Ryan lifted his pistol and pulled the trigger, a straight shot for Spencer’s head. He missed and hit the wall. Brendon nudged his side urgently.“Come on, dude! I know he was your friend… But he’s going to eat us – do it now!” Ryan took a steadying breath and realigned his shot. He kept his wide hazel eyes open, watching his former best friend’s gray matter fly over the grimy walls. A breath shuddered into him, and Brendon pulled him hastily back to their house.“Hey man, you okay?” Ryan shook his head and brought a steadying hand to his temple.“Uh, yeah. Just…just a flashback. I just need some water.” Concernedly, the clerk unhooked his own bottle from his belt.“Here, dude – take some of mine.” Ryan took a long grateful sip. “So, um… You two said you’re headed for Lone Pine?” Brendon shuffled up to Ryan’s side and wrapped himself up in the taller man’s arms. He buried his face in Ryan’s shoulder and trembled weakly. Ryan bit back a wave of tears and nodded.“Yeah. A-a friend of ours is waiting for us there.” The other man nodded, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.“Okay. From here you’ll wanna take… CA-136, then a right turn onto US-395. It should only be about 19 miles from here on.” Ryan thanked him heartily, and turned back to his car. “Anything else I can do for you two?” He seemed hesitant, almost obligated. Ryan sighed heavily.“I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do for us now.”--With the air conditioning on and the comfortable silence, Ryan couldn’t even tell that they were in the middle of the desert. Of course, he wouldn’t dwell on it or anything of the sort… It just struck him as something that Brendon would think of. Brendon. He looked over to the passenger seat, where his lover was curled up uncomfortably, head pillowed on the ratcheted seatbelt and swinging precariously from time to time. Ryan breathed quieter, not wanting to disturb him at all.“Almost there…” he whispered soothingly as Brendon muttered in his sleep. “We’re almost to the hotel. Don’t worry.” Ryan’s fingers found their way to Brendon’s, and the two clasped hands solidly.--Lone Pine seemed to rise out of a mirage. At first, that’s what Ryan thought it was, heat waves shimmering and swaying over the sand. With a mile more, they could clearly see the buildings. Brendon had woken up a few minutes ago, and still had the queasy after-nap feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was currently clutching his abdomen, gazing intently out the window, and swallowing big mouthfuls of water. Ryan looked over at him cautiously.“Are you alright?” Brendon glanced over and a grin lit up his features.“Perfectly fine. Just a little…off-kilter from the nap. I’ll be awesome once I get moving.” Ryan nodded unsurely and turned his eyes back to the road. The Best Western sign flew into view, and Brendon squealed lightly in the back of his throat.“Redemption,” Ryan breathed, smiling for once, and parked the car out front. There were a handful of dusty, beat-up cars in similar positions to his, and he figured they weren’t the only ones who had heard the broadcast. With a confident deep breath, he unbuckled his seat and swung out into the desert air.“So where’s Jon?” Brendon, true to form, had regained his energy once out of the car. He bounced nervously on his toes. Ryan climbed out of the vehicle slowly. “Ryan… I’m not entirely sure we have the most time in the world right now. Let’s get inside.” Ryan nodded sensibly.“I’ll get the water and supplies – you go get Jon. Tell him to come out and help.” Ryan suddenly paused and looked around shiftily. “Hey, B, on second thought… Stay out here with me?” Brendon smiled softly.“Sure thing.” He took Ryan’s warm hand in his hand the two rifled through the trunk quickly. They grabbed up the water jugs and made their way clumsily to the front door. The wooden surface was sand-scarred and solid, and Brendon knocked loudly until his knuckles were screaming in protest. Slowly, they heard a commotion behind the door. Several things slid across the floor, and there was muffled talking.“Tell us your name where you’re from,” came a distant, tired voice. Ryan and Brendon looked at each other. Ryan cleared his throat.“Uh, Las Vegas. A suburb, Summerlin. R-Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie.” They waited patiently, and soon began to hear locks twisting, and the door creaked open. A worn-looking woman stood in the door, her curly blonde hair tied back into a pony tail and pink striped tank-top hanging from her thin shoulders.“Come on in. Sorry about that. We have to make sure… We’ve gotten radio calls from the cities – we don’t let any of their ‘survivors’ in. Don’t know how many could have been bitten.” She introduced herself as Greta and helped them bring the water in.“But… Vegas is in a state of pandemonium. Why did you – ” There was a loud commotion from the hallway, and their attention snapped around. Greta ignored the noise and continued to pull in water jugs. Brendon wound his hand into Ryan’s as a figure made its way around the corner.“Holy fuck!” The bearded face broke into an easy smile. “Guys! I thought you were… I thought you were left for dead!”“Jon!” Brendon leapt out of Ryan’s reach and crushed the other man in a hug. Jon picked him up and swung him around happily. Ryan grinned and slowly made his way over to join in.“I was so worried that you weren’t going to survive…” Jon whispered, hugging his friends tightly. “Spencer’s bringing more water from your trunk?” Ryan and Brendon froze.“Um. Jon, he…” Ryan swallowed. “The last time we saw him, he was eating rotten lunch meat…because he couldn’t get to us.” Jon’s eyes were wide and unfocused, and he stared at the carpet. He gulped hard.“I see.” Gently, he set Brendon on the floor again. “W-well. Thanks for the water. We’ll put it in our stock room right away. As for now… Let me give you guys the grand tour.” Walking stiff and mechanical, Jon led them down the dark hallway.--As they made their way through the inn, Brendon gazed out through boarded windows over the desolate wasteland of a landscape. He paused at one particularly large knothole and stared out over the dunes and into the diamond blue horizon. The world stretched on forever from here. As far as he was concerned, the earth just kept going and going and going, spinning all the way around, completely desert, until it came up and tapped you on the back again. And it just kept surfing off into the distance –“Bear? You okay?” Ryan’s comforting hand on his shoulder made him jump.“Yeah. Yeah, just a little tired…” Brendon shrugged, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve just gotta get used to this.” Jon paused at the top of the stairs, quietly answering a radio call. Ryan nudged Brendon back against the red wallpaper and put his mouth softly against his ear.“Hey. If you wanna just…head off somewhere and save this tour for when you feel better, let me know.” Ryan pulled back to look Brendon in the eyes. “I don’t mind if you need to get away from this all. You’re having the hardest time digesting it.” Brendon rolled his eyes and forced a smile.“I’ll be fine. Promise.”--In the dead of night, Brendon’s imagination was running away with him. Over the sand outside, he could hear dragging footsteps and quiet cries of hunger. He rolled closer to Ryan and plugged his ears, trying to fall asleep. Ryan stirred and sat up shallowly.“Brendon?” The smaller boy whimpered lightly. “Brendon, what’s wrong?” Ryan pulled his lover on top of him. Brendon opened his eyes and stared at Ryan.“I can’t sleep. Not one wink.” Ryan carefully tucked Brendon’s head under his chin.“Shh. You’re okay – this place is as safe as the White House, okay? You’ll be fine.”“I can hear them,” Brendon muttered. “I can hear them out on the sand. They come in waves, and sometimes they get so loud that I don’t know how you can just sleep through them.” Ryan rubbed his back lightly.“You’re imagining things. You’ve just got to get used to your surroundings. You’ll be fine.”With Brendon shivering against his chest, the two fell into a fitful sleep.--When the two awoke in the morning, they could hear dishes being moved in the kitchen underneath their room. Brendon sat up, straddling Ryan’s stomach, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The warm smell of buttered pancakes came up through the floorboards, and Brendon grinned through a yawn. He rubbed his hands over Ryan’s bare chest, waking him up.“Morning, sleepyhead. Breakfast is on downstairs,” Brendon mumbled. Ryan stared up at him softly, watching the dust dance about his face in the shafts of light coming from between the window boards. He sat up quickly and grabbed Brendon about his middle, holding him close as he kissed across his face.“Good morning to you too!” he laughed, catching Brendon’s lower lip in his teeth as he tipped the younger boy backwards. Brendon giggled, and slipped his fingers through Ryan’s hair as they kissed. Brendon shifted and pulled away from Ryan, panting lightly.“C’mon, I’m hungry.” Brendon skipped off the bed and to the dresser, where they had stashed the few clothes they had. He shimmied into his jeans, tugged on a yellow shirt, and turned to watch Ryan, who was still sitting in the bed, just smiling at him. “Aren’t you going to get up? They’re making pancakes.” Brendon swung out of the room and trotted down the stairs with Ryan laughing after him.--A slow week had passed, and the boys had fallen into the rhythm of the Lone Pine Inn.Every morning, breakfast was served in silence while the 8 survivors listened to the radios, each of the four handhelds tuned to a separate station. Afterwards, there wasn’t much one could do. They sufficed for entertainment by playing cards, reading, talking lowly with one another, and listening to the ever-present chatter over the radio.“Is this going to be the rest of our life?” Brendon asked timidly as Ryan made their bed one afternoon. Ryan shook the duvet out with a sharp snap.“I’m not sure,” he breathed. “I mean, nothing lasts forever. Eventually, these ghouls are going to run out of victims and just…decay.” Brendon frowned. As a child who was easily fascinated by anything and, rest assured, everything, his knowledge of ancient Egyptian mummies was flooding back to him.“But Ryan…we’re in a desert. If they come in here, they won’t decay. Their skin will just harden over and they’ll be preserved. We’ll have to kill them before they disappear.” Brendon’s gaze had melted into the wall, and he merely stared into the space before him.“Bear, don’t worry about it.” Ryan settled the pillows into their place and turned to gather Brendon into his arms. “We’ll make it – we’re tough,” Ryan growled, and bit the giggling boy’s neck gently. Brendon sighed softly and lounged against his companion.“C’mon… They’ll want us downstairs to help reshelf the food.” Brendon untangled himself from Ryan and pulled him down the steps by his hands. “Then I want your help with something.” Ryan, feeling slightly confused, stumbled down after Brendon and into the kitchen. Greta was slumped over the table, a hand wound in her disheveled hair, listening intently to the radio.“Anything new, Greta?” Brendon greeted as he sat down across from her. She sighed and shook her head.“Just the same old, same old…”--“I’m getting worried, you guys,” Jon whispered. Ryan looked up from his and Brendon’s game of checkers. They could hear Greta making dinner in the kitchen, humming a tune softly.“Peter and Andy?” he asked, flipping his brown hair from his eyes. Jon nodded shortly.“They were supposed to be back by nightfall.” Brendon stood up, stretched his back into a long arc, and started up the stairs.“I’ll go take a look around.” He vanished into a room on the second floor. Ryan dropped his head to the table with a muttered ‘goddamnit’. Jon sat up, elbows on his knees, and reached out to his friend.“What’s wrong?”“I’m just always so worried about him…”“Don’t be – he can take care of himself, you know,” Jon chuckled.“Yes, but…he’s always so afraid. And then he comes crying to me, and I never feel like I can do anything. I’m always…stuck. Stuck playing the protector with his hands tied. I feel so helpless.” Jon pulled Ryan up onto the couch and into a bear hug.“Don’t worry about it, dude. There’s nothing you can do; nothing any of us can do. We’ve just got to take these things as they come to us.” Ryan nodded and stood up. He flashed a smile at Jon.“Thanks, man. I’m gonna go give Greta a hand… Call if you ever need anything.”Brendon skipped down the stairs, a mixed emotion on his face. He cannon-balled onto the couch next to Jon and rubbed his hands together.“Well, good news and bad news.” He held out a thumbs-up and thumbs-down. Jon thought for a moment, and gave a fist bump to the thumbs up.“Okay, good news first. There are no crazy massive hoards of undead outside this fine establishment!” Brendon grinned. “But…the bad news is that there’s no sign of Pete and Andy’s car, either.”“That’s alright… It’s kind of what I figured anyways,” Jon sighed sullenly. “Well, thank you for looking, Bear. It’s almost time for dinner.” The two made their way into the cozy kitchen and pretended that everything was going smoothly.--“Ryan.”Brendon had been up for 3 hours straight now – he’d be counting. Again, he kissed Ryan’s shoulder gently.“Ryan, wake up.”The older man opened his eyes slowly. He barely had time to figure out what was going on when Brendon’s mouth pressed against his. He pushed himself up on his elbows, leaning into his lover. In the dark, he felt Brendon’s hand catch in his hair, holding him close as they kissed hungry and slow, like sleep-induced molasses. Ryan managed to pull himself away, and he fell back onto the mattress, breathing hard.“Brendon, what on earth – ““Tell me you love me,” the younger man urged, crawling to straddle Ryan, peering down at his face.“Brendon, I love you more than – ““Please,” was all Brendon choked out before he glued his mouth to Ryan’s again. He tugged on Ryan’s lip, sending a shiver down his lover’s spine. Ryan tangled his hands through Brendon’s messy hair and pulled him even closer, moaning lowly into his mouth. Brendon’s warm hands slid up Ryan’s bare chest, and Ryan flipped him down onto the bed, twisting the sheets around their legs.Following his instincts in the dark, Ryan’s fingers trailed down Brendon’s stomach and rubbed against the bulge in Brendon’s shorts. Brendon, squirming and panting, reached for Ryan’s boxers. The two boys’ mouths met again, and Brendon groaned as he slipped his hand around Ryan’s length.“I’ve missed you,” Brendon gasped, threading his fingers through Ryan’s hair as the older boy placed soft kisses down the middle of his chest.“I’ve been right here,” he mumbled. “All you had to do was ask.” Ryan sat up and managed to make out the silhouette of Brendon’s form in the dark. He could see the chest, slowly moving up and down; the face, eyes screwed shut; the hands, clenching the sheets.“Ryan,” Brendon whined lightly. “Ryan, I – ““Shh. Quiet down now. I’m not going anywhere,” Ryan hushed, and weaved his fingers through Brendon’s. “I’ll be here forever. For whatever you need.” Ryan crawled over Brendon again, and kissed him deeply. Relaxing in his love’s arms, Brendon sank into the mattress and wrapped his legs around Ryan’s waist.Ryan pushed his hips against Brendon’s, hissing at the friction between their thinly clothed bodies. Brendon tossed his head back onto the pillow and moaned. Ryan claimed his mouth again, stifling the noises that would carry so well through such a big, empty building. Brendon thrust back against him, holding his mouth to Ryan’s, kissing him like it was their last night on earth. Ryan turned his head, breathing deep, still moving against his love. He bit onto Brendon’s shoulder, groaning as he sped up. Brendon gasped to the ceiling, arching his back as he came. Ryan followed, slumping against his lover’s warm skin.“For some reason,” Brendon began hoarsely when his breathing had slowed, “I feel like I should already miss that.”“Stop that nonsense,” Ryan breathed. “We’ll be fine.” As he tugged the covers over them, twined together and falling fast asleep, he repeated his mantra: “We’ll be just fine.”--“So, um…” Jon walked awkwardly into the kitchen the next morning. Ryan and Brendon looked up simultaneously from their bowls of cold cereal. “…Yeah.” Ryan and Brendon glanced at each other, before Ryan’s cheeks colored and Brendon burst out laughing.“Yes, Jonathon?”“Uhh, nothing, really. I just… Hi, what’s up?” Ryan raised an eyebrow at him.“Was there a reason you’re standing in the doorway, stammering? Or…?” Jon cleared his throat and looked at the clock on the wall.“Actually, yes. I’ve been listening to the radio this morning, and the news isn’t so great this time.” Jon pulled a chair out and sat down with his head in his hands. “It seems that there’s a group of zombies crossing the desert right now. They’re going to hit the inn at an estimated 2:00.” Ryan and Brendon immediately turned to stare at the clock; the time was now 12:49.“Shit. That leaves us just over an hour…” Ryan mumbled, and put down his spoon.“Yeah. So Greta and I… We were considering making a run for Fresno… That’s about 5 hours away.” Ryan and Brendon looked at each other again. Brendon was the first to speak.“Do you think we can make it?” Jon looked down at the table again.“I think we have a chance.”--“Is that the last of it?” Jon hollered into the inn. Ryan and Greta were each carrying a last armload of canned food.“Should be!” Brendon called back, the last of the water jugs in his arms. “Let’s get this stowed away and then get out of here,” he said as he set the jug on the front porch.“Sure thing,” Jon agreed as he tucked the last of the food into the trunk. “Are you guys ready to leave?” Brendon looked at Ryan, who looked at Greta.“I’m ready whenever you two are,” she said softly. Ryan nodded, and Brendon grabbed for his hand.“Yeah, let’s go.”The four survivors piled into Jon’s blue car, the water jugs tucked in the back seat next to Ryan and Brendon, and set off, hoping that the lack of broadcasts from Fresno didn’t mean what they thought it would.--“Holy shit,” Ryan breathed, gazing out over the city of Fresno.Fires blazed from the tops of buildings, and there were broken down vehicles littering the streets. A handful of buses had piled up a mile or two down the road, forming an impassable barrier. Jon swallowed hard and turned the car down the nearest street.“We’ve got a choice now…” he began unsurely. “We’re low on gas. We can either look for a station around the city, or we can settle down here. With gas, we can surely make it to Sacramento… Whether it’s a better situation or not, we won’t know until we get there.”The car was silent.“I think…” Greta said slowly, “that we should get the hell out of here.” A chorus of agreement came from the back seat, and Brendon squeezed Ryan’s hand tightly.“Let’s just find some gas and get to Sacramento,” he whispered in a frightened voice. “I just want to get somewhere safe, and this place gives me the heebie-jeebies.” Jon put the car in drive again and they set off in search of a gas station.--“Hey, there’s a Shell around the corner!” Brendon cheered. The street lights had begun popping on, one by one, as twilight fell over the destroyed city. Jon steered the car to the first available pump and reached for the lock on his door.“Greta, can you…?” She nodded once and climbed out her own door, pistol in hand, to stand on the roof of the car. Keeping watch around the station, she was hunched with her finger on the trigger. Jon fumbled with the gas hose, flinching at every small sound.“Greta!” yelled Brendon, spying a limping corpse headed at their car from the minimart nearby. She spun and fired a shot for its head, but missed. The bullet ricocheted off of the doorframe, and she lined up another shot. Suddenly a wave of hungry moans filled the small station, and Jon froze with terror.“Greta… How many can you see?” She counted quickly, her eyes widening.“At least 30. How many gallons have you got left?”“Two. Hold them off.”Brendon listened to the calm exchange, completely horrified as he watched the undead converge on them. He began trembling, and Ryan put his hands over Brendon’s ears, pulling his face into his chest to block out the masses. They heard Jon drop the gas hose, and in a matter of seconds, he swung back into the car. Greta hopped quickly into her seat, and they slammed the doors. Jon stepped on the gas and the car shot through the wall of approaching zombies.“Goddamnit,” Jon cursed through his clenched teeth, as the car was immobile against the writing masses of undead. He floored it several times more, but it had become stuck. With a sickening crunch, he managed to mow over a handful of zombies, but he knew it was no good. He slammed his hands down on the horn in frustration.“Back it up! Back it up!” Greta muttered frantically, and locked the car into reverse. Jon slammed on the gas and the car flew back. He put it in drive again and turned toward a thinner wall of bodies. This time, he managed to blast through them, scattering their limbs across the ground.“Careful – don’t wreck the car,” Ryan warned anxiously as Jon sped around a corner. Brendon picked his head up from Ryan’s chest and glanced around.“Wait a second – we’re going south! Jon, wait, turn around – ““Shit,” Jon mumbled, and pulled a quick U-turn and slammed on the brakes. “Thanks, Bear,” he muttered gratefully. He was just about to start the car again when the zombies began hobbling down the street towards the car. “Jesus, not again,” he growled, and revved the engine. “Hold on – I’m just going to plow them.” Ryan and Brendon braced themselves for the plan, smiling hopefully at each other, when Ryan’s eyes strayed to Greta’s window.A zombie had gotten a hold of the door handle.“Greta! Lock your door! Lock it now!” Ryan yelled fruitlessly as the door opened and the stench of rotting flesh poured in. Greta screamed as several gray, dead hands reached in for her. She sobbed her goodbyes, mixed with useless ‘help me’s as she was dragged off into the night, kicking and screaming.“Jon, fucking drive!” Brendon cried as more hands reached into the door. Jon was frozen with shock, though, and merely stared at them, mesmerized, as the grabbled for him.“Shit,” Ryan whispered, and pulled Brendon into his lap. “Shit shit shit.” Brendon wrapped his arms and legs around Ryan, squeezing them together tightly.“I guess this’ll be it, then,” Brendon whispered softly. Jon yelled as teeth sunk into his arm, and he was pulled out the door, streaking blood across the upholstery. Tears began falling from Brendon’s eyes, and he took Ryan’s face in his hands. “Listen to me. Listen: I love you so much. So much,” he sobbed, and kissed his love gently. Ryan tightened his grip on Brendon’s sides.“Don’t go!” he cried, but Brendon merely shook his head. By now, both front doors were open, and zombies were crawling in, catching their gnarled fingers in Brendon’s t-shirt. He was sobbing, screaming when they tore at his arms, pulling him out of both sides of the car like a game of cannibal tug-of-war, and Ryan simply squeezed his eyes shut.He pressed his hands over his ears, blocking out the screaming sobs from the front seat, and curled into a ball as he felt their cold hands over his arms.

i don't think you guys would understand unless you are a hardcore panic at the disco fan

shut up!1:57 AM