Fandom: Panic! at the Disco, Fall Out Boy
Word Count: 264
Disclaimer: I do not know these people, this never happened, I am making no money off of anything.
A/N: For we_are_cities' nov 07 prompt. Many, many thanks to quettaser and pressdbtwnpages for looking it over and assuring me it doesn't suck. A line or two taken from the prompt itself.
They used to talk all the time, before.
Now, it’s infrequent phone calls from pay phones in shitty diners or the two seconds alone when they’re in the same town at the same time (which is not as often as you’d think). It’s bad reception on the road and smiles that don’t mean what they should. It’s the silence that says more than the words do.
Ryan can’t pinpoint the moment things changed. They just did, and that’s all there is to it. Being on the road at different times doesn’t help, but that’s not all it is.
The night the distance doesn’t feel so great, Ryan is looking out the window of the bus at the moon as Pete speaks softly into his ear from Chicago. It’s late at night, on the road and at Pete’s house, so late it feels like they are the only awake people in the world. They are both practically whispering, Ryan because everyone else is sleeping in close proximity; Pete because it just feels right. He’s outside in the backyard, looking up at the same sky Ryan sees, all those miles away. And it’s like they’re right next to each other and it’ll all be all right because they’re looking at the same tiny sliver of moon, that tiny smile that seems like it could bring them back to each other, somehow.
“In case you think you’ve gotten away,” Pete almost-whispers, “don’t.”
Ryan thinks Pete can probably hear him smile through the phone line as he almost-whispers back, “Don’t worry.”
He can tell Pete is smiling back.