Ryden Oneshots

Days Gone By - 1

Days Gone By [1/2]

Dec 14, 2008 19:55

Title: Days Gone By
Author: selectivelyurie
Beta: killinglocals, my precious
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: Third
Summary: Crack!fic in which Ryan turns into Brendon's favorite stuffed animal, Waffles the Penguin.
Disclaimer: Not true at all.
Author Notes: So after fucking forever I finally post something. Title, subtitles/cut text belong to Gavin Mikhail's 'Days Gone By'. Go listen, it's glorious. 

I'll Carry On Pretending I Don't Notice That You're Gone 

Ryan/Brendon
R
4,300 

Brendon Urie was a pack rat. 

He kept anything and everything that was (or could be) considered useful or nostalgic in any way. In the closet of his house, there were boxes upon boxes of poorly colored pictures on crumpled construction paper from when he was in kindergarten. In his dresser drawers he kept all of his old Pokemon cards, especially the holographic ones (he kept those in a special place: the top drawer tucked behind his socks and underwear). Under the mattress of his bunk, there were various candy wrappers - candy wrappers - that he had saved up over the years because, “I’m sure they’re going to change the wrapper eventually and I want to remember what the old ones looked like.” 

Perhaps one of the main things that Brendon kept, cherished, worshipped, would kill you if you touched it, was his stuffed penguin that he bought at Sea World when he was seven. He had been saved up his money over the course of a few months, stocking up on quarters and dimes and nickels he found in between the cushions of the couch, or begging for the forty some-odd cents his mother would get back from any one of her purchases. He’d saved and collected and finally he had enough money to buy something of value and the minute he laid eyes on that stuffed penguin in the window of that shop, he had to have it. 

It was the first thing Brendon had ever bought himself and he was over the moon proud of himself for being such a big boy. He named the penguin Waffles and for the last fourteen years, Waffles has spent every night tucked safely beneath Brendon’s arms. 

This penguin was the most sentimental thing Brendon owned and if anyone needs to know how fucking crazy he is about it, just ask Jon about the time he merely picked it up off the couch to sit down and got tackled to the floor. Yeah, ask Jon’s black eye. 

Or Shane’s busted camera lens. 

Oh, and probably all of Cobra Starship. 

Regardless of Brendon’s violent protection of this stuffed animal, it had it’s own special place in Brendon’s bunk when Brendon wasn’t carrying it around relentlessly. It remained tucked between the small window and curtain so that he could see outside, view the big open road, take in the sights while Brendon was away. Being alone in a bunk is sad, so at least here Waffles could do some sight seeing. Or so Brendon had justified it. 

But at this current moment, Waffles isn’t basking in the sun slicing through the window of Brendon’s bunk because he’s sitting merrily in Brendon’s lap in the back lounge, watching The Backyardigans over a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. 

“Can you see, Waffs?” Brendon asks, patting the soft fabric of the penguin’s head. Sure, talking to a stuffed animal seems idiotic and slightly disturbing, but every now and then it’s nice to have someone to talk to that won’t say anything back. If there’s one thing Waffles has taught Brendon, it’s that sometimes silence is the answer to life’s greatest questions. “Good,” he replies with a grin before stuffing a spoonful of multicolored deliciousness into his mouth.