Ryden Oneshots

Open Wide

Open Wide

meiloslyther

Summary:

Brendon is kind of obsessed with Ryan's mouth.

Notes:

Inspired by pictures of Ryan's wide open mouth. And seriously, what is it with me and getting all voyeuristic about Ryan jacking off? Jeez.

Work Text:

How no one else ever noticed that Ryan kept his mouth open almost the whole time he played a show was beyond me. Of course, it could have just been the fact that I lived for Ryan's little oh-faces. Not that I'd know what his real oh-face looked like, but I couldn't help but imagine it whenever Ryan closed his eyes and belted out his word or line, his jaw going slack, his body subtly moving with the music.

I mean seriously? Sometimes he just looks like he's coming in his pants. Who could forget the end of Lying at Lollapalooza '06? He held that last note like a moan, grabbing the edge of his guitar like his life depended on it.

Not to mention the I-can't-keep-my-mouth-closed-to-put-on-makeup thing he does.

"What is it with girls and makeup? It's like they have to keep their mouths open to put it on or something. It's like, humanly impossible for them to keep it shut," I commented lightly from the dressing room couch as Ryan was putting his makeup on, his mouth wide open. "Oh, looks like you can't do it either, I guess."

He stopped what he was doing to close his mouth and glare at me in the mirror.

I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing at him as he went back to his task, mouth falling back open. "Don't catch a fly there, Ryan."

He finished his work and whirled around to face me. "If I wasn't worried about messing up your pretty face before a show, I'd seriously consider beating the shit out of you for that."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "It was a joke, Ross. Chill."

He just snorted and walked off.

The show that night was no different from any other. I caught him biting his lip at times, but other than that, I rarely saw his mouth closed. For the most part, his eyes stayed on his hands, watching where his left hand went on the neck of the guitar, making sure his fingers were placed just right. But sometimes I'd look over at him and his eyes would be closed, just letting the music guide him, letting the music flow through him. It was when he was like that that he sang his best, I thought. When his voice carried farther, louder, clearer.

"Why do you do that?" I asked later when we were on the bus, Jon and Spencer nowhere to be found.

"Do what?" he inquired innocently, raising both eyebrows at me. Even off stage his mouth never really closed all the way, his teeth just barely showing through slightly parted lips.

"Keep your mouth open when you play."

He blinked at me. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Your mouth was open for like, the whole show. I saw you, Ross."

His eyebrows went even higher, if that was possible. "You were watching me?"

Shit. "No, pff."

He wasn't buying it, and a small smirk crept onto his face. "You were watching me, Urie."

"I was not!"

"You were so totally watching me!" He shook his head at me, still grinning. "I knew you were gay, Urie, I KNEW it."