Title: What You Make of It
Author: Zan, onlylirael
Rating: PG
Prompt: Slight Ryan/Spencer
Summary: Ryan isn't going home for the holidays. Happy Fic.
Author's Notes: Just a bit of happy holiday fic.




It wasn't that Ryan hated holidays; he just didn't like them. They were disappointing, they were depressing, and most of all, there was always some sort of horrible disagreement that ruined the entire thing.

Of course now he had the holidays to himself, since he didn't have any immediate family he was obligated to go see. Sure there was the annual extended family gathering on his mother's side that happened every Christmas but he hadn't attended that in years. Too many people looked at him with this cloying pity that Ryan had begged his father never to go again long ago and the older man had readily agreed. Ryan got the feeling that the older Ross never wanted to be there anyway.

This year, this was the year he was free from anything. Spencer had managed to manhandle--this was the only word that truly worked for what happened and it annoyed Ryan a little--him into going to the Smith Family Thanksgiving. He loved Spencer's family, they were some of the nicest people in the world, but he couldn't mooch off of them all the time. Not to mention that Christmas was family thing and even as much time as he spent at the Smith's house he didn't want to intrude any more than he had on their lives.

Of course Spencer wasn't the only one who had offered, Jon and Brendon had as well. And Pete and Patrick and just about every person he knew. Like he was some poor kid still that needed a place to spend the holidays. However, Ryan wasn't the kid that most of these guys had first met, still gangly and unsure of himself. He wasn't the one who still was unsettled in his life, still dealing with teenager angst of a father who had his own share of issues. No, now he was in his twenties and had a handle on his emotions, understood why his father was the way he was. Saw how his dad had still be there for him in his own way.

Christmas was going to be spent in his modern little loft apartment in LA, where he was going to read and drink a bottle of wine. It'd be a nice relaxing holiday and Ryan was actually looking forward to it a little, the first time he could remember looking forward to Christmas since he was maybe 9. Of course, Spencer still didn't understand that, still didn't understand why Ryan wanted to be alone in the apartment he rarely stayed at instead of with him and his family.

Ryan had felt a little guilty when he hung up on Spencer; like he had disappointed him. He had let down the one person who had always been there for him, backed him up 100% even when he was a stupid kid with the dream of starting a band and one day being as big as the bands he listened to on his beat up old player. Somehow the true reasoning behind why he didn't want to go couldn't make it out of his mouth--Ryan was always better with writing--and so Spencer never learned the truth. He wouldn't have wanted to hear it, how the fights always made him feel awkward and upset with the holiday, how he really wasn't family and didn't belong there. That would have hurt his friend.

The skinny man stretched out and got off his couch to make himself some tea. It was a nice enough couch but it wasn't what Ryan was used to, so it left kinks in weird places. Spencer's battered couch that they spent hours on was a lot more comfortable even if it wasn't nearly as nice. Watching the teapot, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. It was weird being here, when he wasn't on tour Ryan spent most of his time at Spencer's house. He had his own room there, most of his stuff was there, this apartment was mostly for show. Mostly to have a place labeled as his own, not seem like some codependent who couldn't live on his own.

Kettle whistling, Ryan poured the hot water into a cup, dropping a tea bag in and carrying the too warm mug back to the arm chair he was most fond of sitting in. The TV seemed too noisy right now, like it was shattering the quiet of the apartment and would disturb the world no matter how low he had it on. Instead, he just settled with an old tape recorder playing his scratchy old tape of Vivaldi's Four Seasons and paging through some sort of nature magazine he had picked up at the store. Or maybe it had been given to him? Maybe it was one of the guys'. The pictures were soothing through, full of fields and wildflowers and summer.

Summer was hotter but summer contained less holidays, so Ryan was inclined to like it more. The most he had to worry about was the Fourth of July and that usually passed in a flurry of tours and/or being dragged off to the biggest firework display within 200 miles, usually by the combination of Jon and Brendon's terribly fake sad faces.

Lost in his thoughts of easy July days with his friends as he looked at one picture in the magazine, it was shattered by the jangle of his cell phone. He cursed in his head, feeling it stupid and a little pointless to talk when there was no one in the apartment to hear him. Sandwiching the phone between his shoulder and ear as he hit the listen button, Ryan still looked the picture of nonchalance as he glanced down at his magazine and started paging through it again. Like somehow that would transfer over the phone, his indifference and uncaringness. "Hey."

"So is there a reason why?"

Brendon was always the one to get straight to the point. Spencer would just sort of hint and glare and huff until talking happened and Jon would wait until people came to him but Brendon just slapped the problem onto the table, didn't bother dallying around. Ryan could appreciate that in its own way even if most times it got to be annoying. "There's a lot of reasons why B," Ryan replied quietly, even he could hear the tiredness in his voice. Closing his magazine, he leaned back and closed his eyes. This was the sort of conversation that required all of his attention.

He could hear Brendon's breathy snort through the phone, waiting for his bandmate to lay it all out. "Are they the same ones you told Spencer? Something about wanting to be alone on Christmas? That's pretty selfish Ry, Christmas is about family and cheer and you're bumming Spencer out."

"Sorry," Ryan apologized quietly. He didn't mean to contribute to other's holiday blues at all and even if Brendon had phrased it with the amusingly poor choice of 'bummed', Ryan realized that how Spencer felt must be pretty bad. "How do you do it? Aren't the holidays with your family horrible?" He never understood how Brendon could go back year after year and spend it with a family who had kicked him out, who didn't fully accept him.

"Ry, the holidays are what you make of them," Brendon's voice was tinged with a childlike wisdom. Sometimes that's how Ryan saw his friend, as someone who had a childlike outlook on life. "Yeah there are hidden comments about my choices in life and awkward moments. Yes I have to go to mass for a few hours. I have to deal with people who never supported me 100%. But that's not it.

"There are the happy faces of my nieces when they open presents. There's laughing with my sisters and singing Christmas carols. There's everyone at church who sincerely wish each other Merry Christmas and peace on earth. There's good food and being together with everyone at dinner. I choose to look at the good things, let bad moments pass by without a thought. My Christmases are always happy because I let them be happy. I don't let the small things ruin my day."

That small bit of knowledge hit Ryan in the gut. He had always worried over things that didn't matter, looked at the snits and fights and blew them up to be bigger than anything else that happened that day. The last few years he had good holidays overall, there were bumps in the day but they didn't end up the total ruin he made it out to be. Yet some part of this was still protesting feebly; it didn't want to give up and admit defeat. "Yeah but they're your family."

"Ryan Ross you know damn well Spencer is family," Brendon's voice snapped at him through the phone, Ryan could almost feel the disapproving look. "Don't give me any bullshit."

Huffing out a quiet breath, Ryan shook his head, grabbing the phone before it fell and arranging himself a little more comfortably. "No, it's not that. I know Spencer's family, hell, you're family too Bren. It's just," Ryan sighed, opening his eyes and staring at the wall out of the corner of his eyes. "Spencer should be with his family and it's Spencer's family. They should have time together."

"That's stupid too. I know Mrs. Smith thinks of all of us as her own kids, even Jon. And I see how the twins treat you like an annoying older brother. You're a Smith Ryan. You may have a different last name, but you've always been a Smith. Hell, you'd be a Smith in name right now if you'd let Spencer make an honest man of you." There was a thoughtful pause before Brendon added, "well, and if there was less gay marriage hate."

Ryan opened his mouth, managing to get out a few stuttered words before he gave up. Truthfully, he couldn't argue with that. He and Spencer, well they weren't exactly together but they weren't not. It didn't make sense but not much in Ryan's life did. After all, that seemed to fit in with the rockstar label, fangirls, financially stable and set for the rest of his life and the part where he got paid for writing bits of thought onto paper and turning it into music.

"Damn right you have nothing to say," Came Brendon's smug-sounding voice. It softened a little, teasing and smiling showing through. "Go home Ryan Ross, get out of that stupid apartment you have, drive home. I know you can make it there in time for Christmas morning."

Ryan relaxed, smiling easily and chuffing out a laugh. "You aren't going to let me live this down are you? Sometime when we're recording the new CD and I don't want to call that bathtub song The Bathtub Song, you're going to pull out that you were right and that I should defer to your superiority."

"Eh, well, if I can get something out of it, you know I'll do it."

"Yeah, I don't even think I'll complain the first time you do it. At least, I won't mean it if I complain," Ryan admitted with a slight grin, standing up with a little more purpose in his movements. "Thanks, I suppose I have places to go now, so I best be going. Hey, Merry Christmas Brendon."

He was certain Brendon got the meaning hidden in those last innocent words, even as his friend's chuckle sounded through the phone. "Yeah, go. Merry Christmas."

Ryan made it to Vegas in the early hours of the morning, standing on Spencer's front porch and ringing the doorbell at just past 6 am. He had a key, he just felt unsure to use it, standing awkwardly in his scarf and coat in front of the door. Spencer's grumpy, sleep-creased face changed when he finally recognized him, pushing open the door in a silent invitation. Stepping inside, Ryan wrapped his arms around his younger friend, pressing his face against the familiar bearded cheek.

Later he was curled up on the couch with Spencer, entangled as they laughed at Spencer's Dad's usual silliness of covering himself in bits of the forgotten ribbons and torn paper and it was maybe already the best Christmas he had ever had since he was small. And maybe if later that day there was a fight as the twins and Spencer caused friction over not wanting to do a puzzle, well, it was still the best Christmas ever because he made it.


[I'M NOT DEAD I SWEAR. Anyways, happy holidays. Sorry this isn't the greatest xmas fic but I had to do something. I was going to write something about Joe and Hannuhkah but that didn't happen. Might still, Hannuhkah isn't over yet I believe...?]