Okay so first of all I'm sorry for not updating in almost a month, things have been happening and I'm very much not okay but whatever, that doesn't matter, I'm eighteen now and this is the first update of 2015 and I hope you like the chapter:')

-xøcharr <3

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The affair was all anyone could talk about. It had been plastered all over newspapers and magazines, the fact that Brendon Urie couldn't keep it in his pants being spread out for the world to see. Gossip magazines in particular loved it, because it meant something else to publicise instead of who had lost the most weight that week. Social networking was quick on the uptake, and so was the press. Brendon was more famous than ever, and all he'd had to do was cheat on his boyfriend.

Ryan was sat in his chair, having his makeup done, by the time Brendon ambled into the room - half an hour late. There was a cigarette between his lips and a takeout coffee cup in his hands, and he sat down beside the model, hugely disgruntled.

Even though he had his eyes closed, Ryan could hear Brendon beside him; hear the angry sigh as he flicked pages of a magazine, the slurp of coffee, the creak as he leant back in his chair.

"Afternoon." He said, and he could just feel Brendon staring at him.

"Not yet." Was the reply, and Ryan rolled his eyes behind his eyelids.

"Almost."

"Whatever."

Ryan held up the magazine that was in his lap. "Seen this?"

It was snatched from him, rifled through. "Yeah." He grumbled. "Fucking hell."

"Didn't even know you had a boyfriend. Kept that pretty secret." His makeup artist was dabbing eyeshadow onto his eyelids by now, and they were almost done. Brendon was just getting started on. "He's cute."

"Don't talk about Spencer like that. And everyone knew about him. They just assumed he was some guy I'd been sleeping with."

"Really? You mean he wasn't?"

"Shut up." There was a pause, and then: "You're Ryan Ross."

"Well spotted. And you're the egotistic Brendon Urie that everyone's always talking about, aren't you."

"Fuck off."

There was another pause, and then Ryan was able to open his eyes, his makeup finished. He looked directly at Brendon, and was momentarily taken aback by how fucking gorgeous he was in person. And then he remembered what he was about to say, and he said it. "Oh, Brendon, just a warning: I don't care how well-endowed you are - you are not going to fuck this up. I know you are an asshole and I know you adore the spotlight, but it's different here. You are going to listen to the photographer because he's the boss. This is my scene. Got it?"

Brendon only smirked. "You should try being in a porno, sweetheart."

Ryan snorted, looking away. "I'd rather spend ten minutes in a room with Gee, to be honest."

"Hey, Gee's a really cool guy, actually." The model's perfect eyebrows rose. "No, really. So what if he's a bit..." He waved his hand around vaguely, because there really was no way to describe Gee Way these days. "He's cool."

"He's about as cool as getting a fucking cucumber in the ass."

"Don't hate what you've never tried."

Ryan grimaced, getting to his feet. "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."

He left the room, going behind a curtain and taking off all of his clothes, replacing them with a fluffy white robe. He then closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before heading into the photography room.

The walls were a clear white, with the photography equipment set up and the photographer impatiently tapping his toes on the floor. The model went and stood in the middle of the room, his back to the camera. May as well get this started without Brendon, he thought.

There was a couch a few feet away, which the model would undoubtedly find himself on sooner or later, but for now he was content with looking over his shoulder towards the camera and slowly slipping the robe from his shoulders.

He didn't know Brendon was watching, but Brendon was watching. He needed to see this. He'd heard stories of what Ryan Ross was like in the studio, a camera pointed at him, and wanted to see it firsthand. That was all there was to it.

What happened next was like a porno in itself, and Brendon was shamefully captivated. The robe hit the floor, and Ryan kicked it away before biting his lower lip and arching an eyebrow. By now, the photographer was snapping away as Ryan slowly dropped to his knees, his clear skin ivory against the pure white floor. The photographer captured his every move as he leaned forward, placing one hand on the floor and crossing the other over it, further forward. He fluttered his eyelashes and parted his lips, the most gorgeous thing in the room.

He knelt there as he had his picture taken, jumping slightly as he felt an arm wind around his waist. His back was pressed against a chest as a second arm loosely circled his throat, a hand on his neck.

"Enjoying yourself?" Brendon murmured into his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"Of course." Ryan replied, keeping his eyes on the camera and nothing but. "I'm getting paid."

"You're getting paid to look like a slut and have it plastered all over the front covers of magazines."

"You're just jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Yeah. I'm prettier than you."

Brendon simply scoffed, his right hand moving down Ryan's stomach until it was between the elder's parted legs. And Ryan didn't even tense up, despite the fact that this was Brendon Urie and his hand was so close to something he really shouldn't be touching. Ryan went to glare, to tell him to fuck off, but the younger smirked.

"Don't pretend you don't want me touching you." He said quietly, and Ryan grumbled, because really, he did.

~

After the photoshoot, in which Ryan's heart was beating way too fast the whole way through, he got dressed and wiped off his makeup, leaving the studio only to find Brendon stood outside, smoking a cigarette and talking on the phone.

He was tall, and even though Ryan was taller, he radiated confidence that made Ryan seem small, and it wasn't just confidence, it was arrogance too.

"Well yeah, I've been kicked out of my own house..." Brendon took a drag of his cigarette as Ryan watched, and the elder imagined the pluming smoke being rainbow rather than white, but he wasn't high, he promised. "...that was hardly my fault, I - oh yes, of course, I apologise." His tone was painfully sarcastic, and Ryan winced. He shouldn't have been listening, he knew he shouldn't have been listening, but it wasn't like he had much else to do while he waited for Pete to pick him up, was it? "Okay, okay, fine, I'll ask Jon to drop me over...yes...not on me, no...there's no way I'm walking into a shop and -" it was then that Brendon noticed Ryan, and in particular noticed the faint blush on the model's face. "I gotta go, but I'll bring some...uh-huh...bye."

He shoved his phone into the pocket of his unbearably tight jeans, taking yet another drag of the cigarette as a smirk rose to his lips. His eyes met Ryan's, which turned hard and questioning.

"That wasn't Spencer, I take it?" He said, and Brendon's eyebrows rose as he folded his arms, tapping cigarette ash onto the floor.

"What's it to you, pussycat?" Came the reply, and Ryan spluttered in indignation.

"It's nothing to me, obviously. And don't call me that."

Brendon grinned, his perfect hair and perfect teeth and perfect everything-fucking-else making him even more irresistible. Or that was what he told himself. "Why not? You look kinda cat-like to me." He dropped the cigarette to the floor, crushing it under his heel and pushing himself off the wall.

Ryan decided to change the subject back to his original question, because this guy was starting to piss him off, and of course he hadn't listened to a word Ryan had said about not fucking up the shoot. He'd been touched in all the wrong places, been made to feel all the wrong things, yet he'd had way too much fun, he couldn't deny that.

"You'd tell me who it was anyway, 'cause you like the attention. Bit of an attention whore really, aren't ya?" Ryan folded his own arms as Brendon got all up in his personal space, eyebrows arched and smirk practically glued onto his face.

"Of course. When you're someone like me..." His fingers slipped beneath the lapel of Ryan's leather jacket, and Ryan's eyes narrowed. "You have to love the attention."

A clicking sound made them both tense, and suddenly Brendon's hand was fisted in Ryan's jacket, and he pulled Ryan towards him, their lips meeting clumsily and unexpectedly halfway. Ryan's eyes closed, but he could still hear, and he heard the gasp of what was probably paparazzi and the frantic clicking of a camera. Oh, great.

Now he was going to be plastered all over magazine front covers for a reason that he wasn't exactly accustomed to: kissing pornstar Brendon Urie in the middle of a parking lot.

He was going to photoshop several dicks onto Brendon's forehead, for sure.

~

"Have fun?" Jon asked, and Brendon grunted in response as the former pulled out of the parking lot, heading towards Dallon's for what would surely be yet another mistake on Brendon's part, but Brendon didn't exactly give a shit; Brendon was too busy thinking about Ryan Ross, and in particular, kissing him.

"It was alright." He eventually said, staring out the window as the road whipped by. "Y'know, for a photoshoot."

Jon laughed. He was the closest thing to a brother Brendon would ever have, and besides, he'd put up with him for the longest; Jon had a lot of patience. "Just alright? You love having a camera pointed at you."

He waved a hand. "Different kind of camera, J."

"Right, yeah, I forgot. You weren't having sex with him." He tapped the steering wheel to whatever tune was playing on the radio; fuck if Brendon knew what it was. "Speaking of which, is he going to return the favor? Y'know how you joined him for a day; is he gonna join you for a day?"

Brendon snorted, turning slowly to look at Jon with raised eyebrows. "You really think that Ryan Ross is ever going to agree to be in a porno with me?"

Jon shrugged. "You never know."

The younger nodded slowly, turning his gaze back to the window. Maybe he'd just have to ask.

They were almost at Dallon's when Brendon spoke. "Actually, can we go to Gee's?"

Jon grimaced. "Really?"

"Yeah, I..." He didn't want to tell his almost-brother that he'd changed his mind, that he didn't really want to see Dallon right now, so he settled for the half-truth. "He might have some stuff, y'know?"

The elder rolled his eyes, turning the car around and driving towards Gee Way's shithole he called an apartment. He just hoped that the guy wasn't there, because he was weird, and so was his not-quite-but-may-as-well-be boyfriend. Brendon practically worshipped the ground Gee walked on, for what reasons Jon would never know, but each to their own...

"Getting high won't solve anything." He said, and Brendon scoffed. "It won't make what you did to Spencer any better, at least. And have you told Dallon you're not going over?"

"I've told him I'll be late." He replied, and then he added: "And I don't care about what I did to Spencer. I told him I don't do relationships, yet I tried, and -"

"He cares about you, Brendon." Jon slowed down outside Gee's apartment block and fixed his almost-brother with a hard glare. "It's not easy to date a porn star."

Brendon rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car. "Yeah, like you would know."

"It doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't." He straightened up. "I'll be half an hour."

"Bren-"

"Don't wait for me."

And Jon couldn't help but watch as Brendon sauntered into the apartment block, all-too-ready to accept just whatever the fuck Gee Way offered him.

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