Old Fashioned

Chapter 17

Ryan didn't know what the fuck he had just done. In public. With Brendon fucking Urie. Anyone could have walked in, anyone could have seen, yet that didn't stop him. Brendon wasn't some lustful and animalistic rogue who visited the more darker and sensual parts of town, Brendon was a well respected member of society in both London and New York, and that fact didn't stop Ryan either.

He felt sick as he ascended the marble stairs, all he could think about was how wrong everything that had just happened was. Not because it happened with a man, Ryan had fucked around with enough men for that fact to not phase him in the slightest, but because the man involved was Brendon Urie. The son of a well respected New York lawyer Brendon Urie, the innocent and society abiding Brendon Urie.

A week ago Ryan hated him. A minute ago Ryan had him pinned up against the wall as the younger moaned into his mouth.

Ryan was past hating him, that much was obvious. Only a fool would kiss a man like that and claim to still hate him. Ryan knew what he had felt in the moment. He remembered the way the hairs on his arms stood up as their lips first touched, the way the pit of his stomach filled with heat as he kissed Brendon with as much power as was humanly possible.

Ryan felt his breathing speed up, and all of a sudden he came to an abrupt halt on the staircase. His leather boots squeaked against the marble beneath them, and he stared at the ground as he tried to think. But he couldn't think. His head was cloudy, fogged with the fear of what he had just done. What he could have just started.

Without a second thought he turned, rushing back down the staircase and out of the main doors. He rushed over towards the carriages, looking for the one he had arrived in. When his eyes spotted it he noticed that the footman was waiting outside of it, in conversation with a footman from another carriage. Their conversation soon came to an abrupt halt as he noticed Ryan, shock filling his features.

"Mr Ross-" He began, voice filled with surprise. Ryan cut him off in an instant.

"I need you to take me somewhere." Ryan demanded. He was not in the mood for games.

"Mr Ross, I- You know I can't-"

"I don't care."

"I can't-" The man began again, soon stopping upon noticing Ryan hastily reaching into the small pocket of his waistcoat. He watched with eager yet confused eyes as Ryan pulled out a gold encased pocket watch, his jaw practically dropping to the ground.

"Take it." Ryan spoke, shoving it into the man's hands. "Take it and take me where I wish. You will be back before the race is even halfway through, I do not wish to go far. My father will not know of your involvement and you will be sufficiently richer."

The man looked at Ryan with his mouth agape for a moment, before looking over to the footman he had been in conversation with. The other man shrugged hesitantly and nodded at him, silently urging him to take Ryan's offer, and the deal was settled.

Ryan climbed into the carriage as the footman took his seat at the front of it, calling the name of his destination out before closing the door behind him. The carriage soon began moving and it was only then when Ryan realized he was still struggling to breathe properly. But how could he ever breathe properly again after what had just happened? After what he had just done.

The carriage ride was fifteen minutes at most, and upon reaching his destination Ryan swiftly hopped out of it, shouting back a thank you as loud as he could muster as he rushed over to a certain familiar black door.

He barely heard the sound of the carriage riding away over his loud and desperate knocks. He banged on the wood for five seconds straight, soon becoming impatient when nothing at all happened.