Warnings: Implied smut, kinda angst

"This is Ryan Ross, who's calling?"

   "Ryan? It's Dallon. Dallon Weekes?" 

   "Dallon?! What's going on? How-"

   "I got your number from Brendon's phone. Sorry. But I had to call you, Brendon... Well, I don't really know what's going on but I keep finding him really upset and he keeps calling out for you in his sleep,"

   "What?"

   "I don't know, I had to try something, I found him crying about an hour ago. He's still here with me recovering, that's why I'm calling. He's sleeping right now, though. Poor bastard tired himself out."

   "Crying? What?"

   "Yeah, dude, like proper crying. Tears, hyperventilating, the lot. He was in his room, I heard him. He kept calling for you and saying that he missed you and that he... Well, I mean, he kept saying he loved you, and that he was sorry."

   "Loved me?"

   "Yeah. I went in to try and comfort him, he sounded so bad - I couldn't leave him, and he refused to talk about it, he even tried to pretend he hadn't been crying until I brought it up, and then he started full-on sobbing into my shirt, saying over and over again about how he missed you and that he was sorry and that he loved you."

   "...Oh."

   "Ryan?"

   "...Yeah..?"

   "What should I do?"

   Ryan cleared his throat. "I-I don't know."

   "Well do you at least know what he's talking about?"

   "I think? I mean, he misses me, I imagine after the breakup, and he loves me. Still loves me. As for the apologising, we had a fight about my choice to leave the band just before I did so. The last thing he ever said to me was 'I hate you, Ryan Ross. I hope you never come back.' I guess he regrets that now."

   "Oh, God."

   "Mm..."

   "Well, how do you feel?"

   "About what? About what he said?"

   "I don't know, everything. The fight, and what he's saying now."

   "Well, I regret that the last things we said to each other were so negative, and as for the rest? I don't know... I want to fix it, I guess?"

   "Well do you miss him?"

   "What?"

   "Do you miss him? Brendon, I mean. Do you miss him, too?"

   "O-of course I do."

   "Would you accept his apology?"

   "If I saw him in person and he said it, I guess so, yes."

   "Do you love him?"

   "Come again? I thought you just asked me if I loved Brendon Urie."

   "That's what I said."

   "Hold on. I think I need a moment."

   Ryan thought about his answer. He shouldn't have to think about it, really. Of course he did. Always had, and still does. In fact, just before Dallon had called, he was getting to a point-of-no-return in his arousal at an old (and rather lewd) picture of Brendon that the singer had sent him when they were together, rediscovered deep in his old messages. Then the call popped up on screen and he almost shit himself, having been already on high alert in case he got caught.

   "...Yeah."

   "What? Sorry I didn't hear that"

   "Yeah, I do."

   "Come again?"

   "I love him."

   "One more time."

   "I, George Ryan Ross III, am in love with Brendon Boyd Urie. And I know you heard me the first time - you better not have recorded that."

   Ryan heard a noise that sounded like a suppressed squeal from the other end, and sighed.

   "Well then, what are we going to do?" Dallon pressed. "I can't take seeing him like this, man, he's my best friend."

   "I know, it doesn't sound great. I don't know what I can do, though. I mean, I'm still processing the fact that he doesn't hate me."

   "I know, I'm sorry if this is a lot, I totally forgot how you must feel."

   "S'alright. I guess I should come see him, huh?"

   "I think it would be a good idea."

   "Well, when does you guys' tour end?"

   "Our last show is on the 22nd of December. But if you wanted to see him, the 24th and after would be the best option. He tends to hibernate for a day after a tour."

   "That's perfect. I'll go over for Christmas."

   "Christmas Eve?"
 
   "Yup. And if all goes to plan, I'll stay the night and keep him company on Christmas Day. I know how shit it is to be alone on Christmas. It's not nice."

   "I love it. And, would you mind if I told you an extra idea? I mean, I know you and I don't really know each other that well, but I have an idea to make it that much sweeter for him, if you'll go along with it."

   "Of course, what is it?"

   "Oh, shit. Bren's waking up. I gotta go."

   "Wait! Text me it, okay?"

   "Sure. Bye Ryan!"

   "Bye, Dallon. You seem cool and not as much of a douchebag as I thought you were."

   "Thanks."

  
   "Who was that?"

   "No one, Bren. How are you feeling?"

   "Like shit. Cuddle?"

   "Come here then." The smaller man crawled up off the bed where he had been laying, and up into Dallon's lap, curling two arms up under his arms and around to his back, pulling the pair to lay on their sides. Dallon curled his long frame around Brendon, wrapping his own arms around his midriff and squeezing gently.

   "Face proximity?" He asked, and Brendon shook his head.

   "I don't care." He nuzzled his nose into Dallon's cheek sadly, the older sighing and relaxing a little, snuggling closer.

   "Evidently." Brendon smiled at that. "Oh, Brendon, I've got something to tell you, I totally forgot." Brendon nodded against him. "You know how you said not to get you anything special for Christmas? I might've just conveniently forgotten about that rule and got you something anyway." 

   "Dallon..."

   "I know, I know! But you're really gonna love it, I promise."

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   Ryan was wandering around the airport, looking for the Starbucks that he was told Dallon would be waiting outside. His suitcase was loud as it rolled along behind him, and he'd been contemplating picking it up and carrying it for the greater good of the population for something like the last twenty minutes. 

   Suddenly, he spotted three young girls wander out of the toilets, and he went over with the intention of following them. They looked like they knew the way to Starbucks with their eyes shut. What? They looked basic, okay? However, the middle girl caught sight of him, and Ryan watched her face go from normal to very pale and then to bright red in the space of about three seconds. Ryan read her lips as she said his name, then turned to her friends with an exasperated look on her face, frantically whispering. Her friends laughed and walked away, leaving her totally exposed and extremly flustered as Ryan made his way over, a genuinely reassuring smile on his face. 

   "Hey. I guess you know me, huh?"

   "Y-You're... Ryan Ross..." She managed.

   "I know." He laughed.

   "S-Sorry, I don't mean to bother you, I-"

   "It's okay, I love meeting fans, really. But could you help me? I'm looking for Starbucks." 

   "O-Oh, yeah my friends and I were just heading there, it's just over there, up the escalator, then around to the- Um, maybe follow me?" 

   "Of course, thank you."

   "M-My pleasure..."

   She started off in the direction she had pointed, and Ryan walked beside her. 

   "If you have anything you want me to sign, or something, you can give it to me." 

   "O-Oh, okay." She reached into her bag, searching for something he could sign. She produced a small notebook and a pen, opening it to a specific page before handing it over. Ryan looked and saw that it was an autograph book. He shrugged and signed it, noticing Frank Iero's signature. 

   "You met Frank, huh?"

   "Oh, y-yeah. He was cool."

   "You ever met Dallon before?"

   "Dallon? N-No, but I want to."

   "Well, won't you be in for a surprise." 

   "What? Oh, l-look we're here."

   "Thanks, but come with me a second, okay?"

   "Oh- Are you sure? I-I mean, okay." 

   Ryan was feeling particularly charitable that day, and so he texted Dallon to go and wait for him at the 'Counter, you know the one where you get your coffee and stuff, yeah.' He got a simple 'K' in response, and he smiled. 

   "Come on, I'm hungry."

   "O-Oh, I can go if you want-" 

   "No, I said to stay and follow me, right?"

   "Right..."

   Ryan ordered a small hot chocolate and a chocolate muffin, as well as a shortbread shaped like a Christmas tree. He had seen the girl was carrying a sandwich in her bag, and shortbread was only made of butter, sugar and flour, so figured he was safe, allergy-wise. He handed her the treat with a finger over his smiling lips, indicating for her not to say aything. 

   "Thanks for showing me how to get here, and for not being creepy."

   "I-I don't know what to- thank you- I'm... God." She sighed in defeat, looking at her shoes, and Ryan laughed. He stepped up to the counter and took his coffee. He saw Dallon and put his finger to his lips again, nodding his head towards the girl, still ith her head down and cautiously nibbling the star off her Christmas tree.

  "Hi, Dallon. Thanks for meeting me." Ryan grinned. Her head snapped up, wide-eyed, and her eyes met with Dallon's. 

   "O-Oh my God." She whispered in a very small voice. Ryan handed Dallon the autograph book.

   "If you wouldn't mind. I think our little friend is about to die."

   "Don't die, we suck. I don't know what the excitement is all about." Dallon said. "Oh look, Frank's in here." 

   "Let's take a photo togther. C'mere." Ryan pulled his phone out and snapped a selfie of the three of them, uploading it to Instagram. "Tag yourself." He said to the girl, a she took his phone extremely carefully, doing just that.

   "Unfortunately, I think if you don't go over to your friends soon, they might explode." Ryan handed her back to book and the pen, and took back his phone.

   "Oh-Oh right, sorry, thanks for everything." She looked from her friends, to the floor, then to Dallon, then back at the floor, then back to Dallon. She looked like she was about to have a panic attack.

   "Do you want a hug?" Dallon inquired. "You look a little... Overwhelmed."

   "Ye-Okay, thank you." She walked into the taller man's outstretched arms, hugging him, before pulling away.

   "It was cool meeting you..." Ryan trailed off. 

   "Amelie."

   "It was cool meeting you, Amelie. Thanks for the directions."

   "Thank you for... Well for being you. Keep inspiring people, both of you." She gained a little confidence. "And thanks for the hug, Dallon. It was nice." And with that, she turned on her heel and skittered away to her friends, immdiately engulfed by them, crowding around to ask questions.

Dallon laughed next to him, and Ryan smiled. "Alright, Mr charitable." Dallon said.

   "Shut up. She was nice."

   "Well, shall we?" 

   "Let's."

----And now, a short shopping/preparation montage, brought to you by Ryan's POV (Not sponsored)---

"How much wrapping paper does one man need?"

   "Tape?! I don't know? How many kinds of tape are there in this world, Dallon?!"

   "Okay, no, put the bows back, I refuse."

   "Ugh, fine, get the bows."

   "Do I have a pen? Yes, I have a pen." 

   "No, no, get away with that."

   "Ooh, chocolate coins..."

   "Right are we done? Have you embarrassed me enough? Oh, no, apparently not, okay."

   "Can I get these gloves? I like them."

   "Are we done now?"

   "We are?"

   "Great, let's leave before you spot something else."

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Knock, knock. 

Brendon groans. 

   "Who is it?" He calls miserably. 

   "It's Santa."

   "What?" 

   "No. It's fucking Dallon, man. Open the door, I brought you something. But shut your eyes." 

   He groans again, managing to drag his aching body up off the couch and over to the door. He shuts his glazed-over eyes ad he opens the door, shivering as the winter air hits his bare chest. 

   "Here's your present. Put your arms out."

Brendon feels something weighty pushed lightly into his chest and he stumbles back a little.

   "Keep them shut!" Dallon pipes up from somewhere in front of him.

   "O-okay...?" Brendon feels warmth coming from whatever it was in his arms, and he swears he can feel air against his neck, too. He runs his hands along it, trying to find a familiar shape that he can recognise, and oh, he suddenly does feel something familiar about the shape of the thing in his arms. He lets out a small noise of surprise in his throat and opens his eyes when a snort of laughter is heard next to his ear and a cold, pointed thing (later discovered to be a nose) is buried in his shoulder. Brendon opens his eyes and is met with another pair - Brown and warm and, yes, he was right.

   "R-Ryan!?"

   "Hi, Brendon. Merry Christmas." Ryan said shyly, tentatively kissing him on the cheek. Brendon cringed and moved away a little. He thought Ryan hated him.

   "Ryan, Dallon, I- What??" Ryan took Brendon's hand in his own gloved one, and rubbed it gently. Brendon first took in the sight of Dallon the older man dressed in a santa costume (complete with beard, Brendon thoguht he resmbled Jack Skellington with his lanky fram), and then his eyes fell upon Ryan: The red and green wrapping paper around his torso, legs and arms; the sticky bows on his clothes; the ribbon tied in a bow on top of his head, and finally, Brendon read the star-shaped tag tied around his neck:

To: Brendon

Look what Santa got you!

Merry Christmas, buddy :)

Love: Dallon x

"So... You... You came back?" Brendon looked over at Dallon confusedly. Ryan nodded next to him while Dallon simply leaned back on his car and smiled, watching the two.

   "And you don't... You don't hate me?" Brendon turned to look back at Ryan, who shook his head and grinned.

   "I don't hate you." Ryan kissed him gently again, this time on the corner of his mouth and oh, Brendon remembered that feeling. Hello, butterflies. I thought you were dead.

   "Really?"

   "Yes, Bren," Ryan laughed breathlessly. "I don't hate you."

  "Are you sure."

   "Oh my God, just shut up and let me kiss you again, for the love of God."

   "O-Oh. But are you sure-" Ryan put a finger over his lips and frowned.

   "Shut up, Bren. Come here." He wrapped and arm around Brendon's neck and pulled him close, pressing their lips together. When the younger man didn't respond, Ryan whined and bit his lip, causing Brendon to let out a small yelp.

   "Brendon. Kiss me. Please." He tried again, and Brendon tentatively started to move his lips back against Ryan's. Brendon felt Ryan smile against him, and it was as if his whole body let out a collective sigh, wrapping his arms around Ryan's waist and kissing him back, properly this time.

   "I've missed you." Ryan complained against Brendon's lips after pulling away.

   "I-I don't understand, what-"

   "You don't need to understand," Dallon piped up. "He's here now, and he's never leaving again, right Ry?"

   "Never again." He promised.

   "But I-W-Well..." Brendon still seemed incredibly cautious, like if he said the wrong thing Ryan would vanish on him again. He honestly couldn't even believe the older man was talking to him, let alone that he, Ryan motherfucking Ross, was here, and was proclaiming that he missed him, loved him, even. Brendon was still waiting for the moment when he'd wake up in his bed, cold and bitterly lonely on Christmas Day.

  "I-In that case, come in." He gained a little confidence, and gestured inside, Ryan smiling at him before passing into the living room quietly. Brendon watched him go, before turning back.

   "You- Dallon, no, what the fuck are you doing, man, get back here!" Brendon hissed at Dallon, who was moving to get back in his car.

   "Dude, no, I don't wanna be a third wheel!"

   "Dallon Weekes, get in this house right now. I have candy canes. And hot chocolate. Mm, hot chocolate-" He tried to persuade the older man, but got interrupted.

   "Brendon, unlike you, I don't phappen to possess the mentality of a six year old; I will not be swayed by the offer of sweets."

   "I'll let you choose the film. And you can use my soap that I always have to put away when you come over 'cause you keep obsessively using it, yup that's right, I'll get-"

   "Out of my way." Dallon pushed past him and into the house dramatically, and Brendon snorted again before shutting the front door and following him.

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"Ry?"

   "Yes, Bren?"

   "I-I love you."

   "Aw, I love you too, you big dork. Now go to sleep, or Santa won't come to drop off your presents."

   "I already got the best Christmas present, I don't want anything else." 

   "All you want for Christmas is me?" Brendon nodded against Ryan's chest.

   "All I want for Christmas is you." Brendon sang quietly, frowning.

   "Well, you have me now, don't be sad." Ryan felt Brendon shudder and then press himself closer, grabbing a fistful of Ryan's shirt and starting to sob again.

   "Oh dear. Such an emotional young woman. Is it your time of the month again, is that what this is?" 

   "Shut up, Ry- Ryan..." Brendon said his name like he coudn't believe he was even saying it, somehow still crying. "Ryan... I always liked the way your name felt in my mouth. That, and some other things of yours." 

   "Oh, I remember."

   "Ryan... Ryan, Ry-"

    Ryan kissed him, and God, how he had wanted this. Brendon had the best kiss of anyone he had ever met, and he never realised just how much he had missed the feeling of those lips against his, the curve of the jaw in his hand, Brendon's chest bumping up against his own. 

   "Brendon." He breathed into the younger man's mouth. Ryan felt tears come to his eyes, and he rolled onto his back, covering his face with his forearm. "Fuck." He laughed. Brendon laughed too. 

   "Shall we both just cuddle and cry like some kind of teen movie?" Brendon cuddled up to him, and Ryan laid on his side again, holding him close.

   "Yeah." Ryan said shakily, his bottom lip twitching. "For fuck's sake." He managed, just before ducking his head and crying into Brendon's shoulder. The younger man did the same, laughing exasperatedly and crying into the nape of Ryan's neck. 

   "I fucking missed you so much Ryan." He sniffed.

   "Me too, fuck, I missed you too." Ryan grabbed everything of Brendon that he could reach, pulling him impossibly closer. 

   "I didn't mean what I said, I didn't hate you, God I fucking loved you so much, I still do." 

   "I know, I know. I was hoping it wouldn't be the last thing we ever said to eachother. Fucking Hell, I'm a mess, get off me." 

   "No."

   "'Kay." He whispered. The two were silent, until Brendon looked away and sniffed, setting them both off in another wave of slightly hysterical laugh-crying. 

   "Come here, come here. Please, I need." Ryan tried to pull him closer, getting an elbow in the ribs in the process, uncaring. There wasn't a single part of them that wasn't touching below the neck as they lay together in the dark. Chest to chest, stomach to stomach, thigh to thigh, legs tangled together and fingers intertwined. 

   "I love you. I love you, I love you." Ryan pressed a kiss to Brendon's lips.

   "I love you too, Ry." Brendon caught sight of the time on the glowing alarm clock over Ryan's shoulder. 1:27am. He smiled, Brendon would get to be the first person to tell Ryan this year.

   "And Merry Christmas."