Ryden Oneshots 【2】

Catching Airplanes

Summary: If I've forgotten how to sing before I've sung this song / I'll write it all across the wall before my job is done. (A Northern Downpour AU.)

There's only one motion detector between them and the fence, the security cameras concentrated on the front of the building. The fence is spiked, but Spencer's pretty apt with a bolt cropper by now, so it won't be a problem.

"If we come from the right, and then try to keep really close to the pole..." Jon fiddles with the night vision gear. "We should be fine then. Keep out of the detector's range."

Ryan's hood keeps sliding down into his eyes, impairing his vision. He pushes it up for the umpteenth time, catches Brendon's excited smile out of the corners of his eyes, and it makes him smile as well. He thought the adrenaline and excitement would wear off after a while, but it will never not be amazing to sneak into dark places and leave their cryptic messages, the fear of being caught mingling with the sheer exhilaration of maybe startling people enough to pause, just for a moment, and maybe even consider a thought or two that might not have occurred to them otherwise.

Brendon is tossing an aerosol can from hand to hand, and they're close enough for Ryan to feel the energy sizzling under Brendon's skin. His face is smeared with black paint.

"Let's do this," Brendon says.

--

Ryan stumbles out around two in the afternoon and Spencer hands him a glass of orange juice without looking at him. Ryan yawns and shoves his hand uselessly through his hair. "Where's Jon n' Brendon?" he slurs, still half-asleep.

"Not up yet," Spencer tells him. "It's their week to have the sofa bed."

Ryan nods and pokes his head around the door into the lounge. Jon is snoring into his pillow and Brendon is snuggled up to his back. As Ryan watches, Brendon rolls sideways, tugging all the blankets with him, and Jon makes an unhappy noise in his sleep. Ryan grins and Spencer says, chin on his shoulder, "Fuckin' bed hog."

"If you could just get a bigger apartment-"

"Then you'd miss your chance to cuddle once a week, and I dread the bitchiness that would come of that."

Ryan flushes and Spencer casts a fondly exasperated look at him. "Whatever," Ryan mutters sullenly, and Spencer softens, smiling a bit.

"Nice work with the dogs, last night," he says, and Ryan breathes out, relieved.

"That was unexpected," he agrees, making a face, and then there is a thump and a yelp as Jon rolls out of bed. Ryan sips at his orange juice and arranges his expression into something appropriately amused when the yelp makes Brendon sit up with a start, hair everywhere, blinking in confusion.

"What?" Brendon asks. "What was-"

"The police," Spencer says dryly. "They tried beating down the front door, and when that didn't work, they yelled in fury."

"Fuck off," Brendon grumbles while Jon is rubbing his side, looking decidedly cranky.

"Coffee?" Spencer offers.

"If Ryan makes it," Jon says. "You always forget to turn the coffee grinder off in time, and then the powder's too fine."

"Ryan's pretty much asleep on his feet," Spencer says.

Ryan blinks and looks away from Brendon's exposed chest. "Am awake," he protests. Brendon looks up and gives him a slight smile that could mean anything, but probably not what Ryan wants it to.

"Right," Jon says. "I think I'll take your coffee, Spencer. Just. Turn it off, yeah?"

Spencer sticks his tongue out, but he still goes to get the coffee beans from the fridge. There's a number of post-it notes stuck to the door, most of them in Ryan's writing, some by Jon. Hey moon!!! was Brendon; and Ryan remembers Brendon's gleeful face from last night as he watched Ryan add flourishes to the first o, right before they were tipped off by a bark.