Ryden Oneshots

Twenty First

Twenty-First

hollowbirds (torturousthings)

Summary:

Even though he's finally twenty-one, the single person Ryan longs for is on the other side of the country, and he can only thank God for technology and six-hour flights.

So he does. He flies, overnight, to his one and lonely.

Notes:

100% inspired by seattle lore.

by one day, we'll settle in seattle.

by i never said i'd leave seattle.

and by my boys. by something that was inexplicable, possibly even to them.

i hope you enjoy.

Work Text:

“On behalf of United Airlines and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. Have a nice stay!”

The air hostess’ voice crackles out as her speech comes to an end, everyone around me mechanically standing up and reaching overhead for their suitcases and bags. I know it’s pointless to stand up now, and yet I do, shouldering my backpack, staring at the entrance of the cabin at the other end of the plane. These are times where I wish I could just teleport to wherever he is, to avoid all the late night traffic and the East Coast tourists and have his skin against mine as fast as I can.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I take it out, reading the address Brendon’s just texted me, my heart leaping at how close I am already. It’s been my birthday for almost twenty hours now, but it’s only just begun to feel that way. With him across the country, it didn’t matter how many people were at the party Keltie threw me or how stupid that picture on their shirt was. It wasn’t right.

The line formed in between the seats finally starts moving forward, an indication that they finally opened the doors. I step into it, cutting off the middle aged man behind me, but I don’t linger long enough to hear whether he curses at me. We’re in the same city now. The chatter of people around is just loud enough for me not to zone out completely, not to imagine how it’ll feel when I finally have him for myself again, both still jet lagged from Europe but at least reunited.

Pete suggested Angels & Kings for the party, and Keltie was only too eager to accept. It was good publicity, and it made sense. Twenty-one, finally legal. Only Spencer and Brendon weren’t, but that didn’t matter. We have a show in Seattle on September first, and it’s best if the rest of the band’s there already, Pete said, as though he’s our manager.

Breaking our whispered promises of twenty-first birthdays together was hard, but Brendon boarded the LA flight without looking back, and surely that was for the better. I don’t want to know whether there were tears in his eyes. Knowing him, there probably were, and I can never walk away from him when he cries.

Stepping out of the aircraft is just as easy as it was to leave Keltie, asleep in our bed, and there’s something so very wrong about that but I forbid myself to think about it, because now the night is ours. I’ve done my duties, given the cameras present enough drunken smiles, kissed Keltie enough tonight. Now it’s time for the performer to retire to his dressing room, to take off the stage makeup and wipe the layer of pretence away. It’s time to be real.

I tighten my grip on the strap of my backpack as I walk up to the arrival gates, despite knowing very well that he won’t be here. We can’t risk someone photographing us together at Seattle Airport, can’t let anyone know that I’ve booked a flight to fly across the country on my birthday night, after having spent the evening with all the somebodies in New York City.