Chapter Text
It was 1981. He was driving on Interstate 10 in Pensacola. The car in front of him had a Darth Vader sticker under a plaque saying "Jesus is the Way." Ryan Ross rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “fucking Florida.”
He takes a right off the turnpike and pulls onto the main drag. By the time he gets to the stoplight before Publix he’s lost in thought and isn’t paying attention to the light changing from red to green. An Oldsmobile honked from behind his Chevette, and he quickly steps on the gas and turns into the supermarket's parking lot. Ryan finds a space two rows away from the main entrance and gets out of his car, then briskly walks past some teenagers that are leaning up against a DeLorean. He had no idea how they could afford one of those, $25,000 was a lot of money. His car had cost only around $5,000, and he still had to take out a loan for it. Luckily, he was able to pay it off without any problems- but still, they were what- 16?
It probably belongs to one of their parents.
He shakes his head and grabs a cart.
---
Ryan was pulling down nearly every cold and flu medicine in his sight from the shelves in the medicine aisle and was in the middle of reading the back of a bottle of DayCare from Vicks when a stranger interrupts him, "That's a lot of shit you've got there."
He was wearing Levi brand jeans, a shirt that said "Disco Sucks," and holding a pack of some allergy medicine. “Trying to cure cancer?”
Attractive.
"My boyfri-" Ryan's face went red.
Damnit, damnit, damnit, shit, fuck.
Where he and Dan used to live, Los Angeles, it was slightly more acceptable to be gay than the national tolerance, kind of- but here. Here in the South, the (almost) Bible Belt? Ryan counted back how many hate crimes he had heard about in hushed whispers just within the first two months of living here. The stranger was staring at him and Ryan stared back, like a deer caught in some headlights, waiting for the other to start laying it on him or worse, he had no idea how he was going to explain the bruises to Dan without making him worry and take Dan’s focus off getting better.
The stranger, probably sensing Ryan's complete and utter four-second breakdown, quickly jumped to reassure him, "No! God, it's okay. I'm not going to do anything… fuck." He scratched behind his head and gave Ryan a sheepish smile, "it would be quite hypocritical if I did."
Gay?
Ryan let out a quiet sigh of relief.
The stranger held out his hand, and Ryan took it.
"Brendon Urie,” he said. “You’re lucky, it most likely won't be like this next time, there's hardly anything sort of a gay community in Pensacola, I'm pretty sure I'm one of the only faggots around here.”
"So why do you stay?"
The guy, Brendon, stands thoughtfully for a moment, “there are lots of cuties in Speedos and bikinis during spring break… and I also love the beach too much,” he laughed and held up his hands as if he were holding a sign, "Pensacola: The Best Beaches On Earth."
Bisexual.
"Totally, much better than where I lived before." Ryan laughed with him and then cleared his throat, "but yeah, my boyfriend, he has a really bad cold but I'm not actually sure if it's a cold or not. It's been going on for a while."
"Oh, well, I like using tea with ginger, honey, and lemon when I’ve got a cold but I’m in no way a doctor, so like, don’t listen to me at all.” Brendon pointed over to a counter in the center of the wall behind them. “The pharmacists could probably be able to prescribe something more official. They're pretty good here."
An animated and sunshiny girl was standing behind the desk, waving at all the little kids who went by and handing out lollipops when she could. Ryan stared at her distractedly before responding, "...yeah. Yeah, thanks." He went to walk over there but stopped when Brendon called out.
"Wait! What's your name. It's only fair you tell me yours because I told you mine." He pouted childishly.
Cute.
Ryan laughed again, "You could be a serial killer for all I know."
“Hey!” Brendon said, “that’s totally not fucking fair.”
“Hmmm, I think it is. We’ve just met.”
“Please?” Brendon batted his eyelashes.
“Fine, but only because I’m adding to the gay population here. You might need to seek me out if there’s a revolt. Strength in numbers and all that shit.” Ryan explained. “My name’s Ryan Ross, my friends call me Ry.”
“Okay.” Brendon smiled and started walking away, “I’ll see you around then, Ry.”
Ballsy.
Ryan yells after him, "I didn't say we were friends!"
---
The bright and cheery pharmacist, Lindsey, couldn't figure out was wrong either. She asked Ryan who his doctor was which then led to him explaining how he and his roommate, Dan, the one who was sick, just moved here and didn't have one yet. It was kind of true; the real reason was that they were just broke and gay and were too busy working to even put in the energy to look for a doctor, even after being settled in for a good five months at least. Plus, Dan had only been sick for a little bit, and it was only a cold... in the middle of August, in 98-degree heat…
Entirely plausible.
Lindsey told Ryan the directions to a Dr. Salec's office up the street and said that his office hours were 8am-5pm, Monday through Friday, with breaks for lunch at 1:00. Ryan thanked her, went to the checkout, and awkwardly avoided eye contact with Doris, the cashier lady, because he just knew she was judging him while scanning all the medicine bottles. Then left and got back on the I-10 to go home to his partner.
---
There was coughing over a TV show when Ryan walked in through the front door. “Hey, babe,” Dan says weakly.
Ryan frowns and walks to where Dan has bundled up on the couch. “How is it possible that you sound worse from when I left?” He says while checking Dan’s forehead.
“It’s not that bad,” Dan replies.
It is that bad .
Ryan ignores what his boyfriend said and goes straight to the kitchen to make some tea. After putting the kettle on the stove (they didn’t have a microwave, and Dan says it tastes better like this anyway) he pokes his head past the wall dividing the kitchen from the living room, there wasn’t that much space in their apartment, “I went to Publix.”
“Yeah?” Dan says not looking away from the screen.
“The pharmacist recommended a doctor, but I pulled off every fucking flu remedy from the medicine aisle so that should be a good enough substitute.” The kettle started whistling. Ryan took it off the heat and poured the water into the mug he got Dan for last Valentine's Day. He walked back out to the living room and set the mug down on the coffee table. “What are we watching?”
“Mork and Mindy,” Dan grabbed his tea and took a sip. “Chamomille?”
“Yeah, with ginger, honey, and lemon. Brendon said it would help with soothing your throat for a bit.”
Dan took another sip, “The pharmacist?”
Ryan nodded. “The pharmacist.”
---
Later that night while reading in bed Ryan felt Dan turn on his side to face him. He put his book down. “What’s up, babe? I thought you were sleeping.”
“Listen, Ry,” Dan started. “I think its time to actually go to the doctor.”
“What? It’s just a cold.”
“See, you say that but it's been two weeks and I don’t think I’m getting any better, honey.”
“But-” Ryan protested.
“Ry,” Dan deadpanned. “I’ve got a fucking rash, we’ve gotta do something about this.”
Gross.
“Fine, fine, fine. We’ll go, I’ll make an appointment for Thursday.”
“Tomorrow, you mean. What if he doesn’t have any spaces?”
“It’s fucking summer,” Ryan joked. “I hardly doubt he’s busy treating any cases of influenza .”
“Okay…” Dan singsonged, “but don’t say I didn’t tell you so if we don’t get in.”
Ryan rolled his eyes and shut off his bedside light, “Goodnight, babe.”
He lies awake in the dark for a few moments, Ryan knew that it was a good idea to go to a doctor and he wants Dan to get better but, going to the doctor’s means it’s real. He rolls into Dan’s chest and wraps an arm around his partner. Something is making his boyfriend sick and what if it’s not just the flu?
---
“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment for today?”
“Sorry, but we don’t have any more spots available for today, will next Monday work?
“Of course,” Ryan said sweetly.
He placed the phone back on its wall mount and refused to look at Dan, who was laughing so hard he had set off his own coughing fit. Ryan went back to the kitchen to make a sandwich and yelled at his boyfriend, “I hope you choke on your tea.”