apparently it is WIP amnesty night?
So here, FIC!
Blaze
Brendon/Ian || ~950 words || teen
written via text message and IM by me and why_me_why_not, self-beta'd
fake, as in not real and never happened
Set around the time Ian auditioned to join The Cab? IDK, the IMs started like this: you know that Ian crashed with Bden & Shane, b/c Shane has family obligations, he has to let him. And Shane's busy with work, so it's up to Bden to keep him entertained.
*hands*
Anyway. Here are snippets from two of the WIPs on my laptop. Tell me which I should work on.
Not Skeezy Gabe fic:
There's already a haze of smoke in the room, even though the party's barely even under way. The room's probably a non-smoking room - fucking everywhere is nowadays, it seems like - so someone propped open the balcony door. It's not doing much good; even in early November, Tampa is muggy and warm, and there's not much breeze tonight. Gabe takes a deep breath and settles back against the sofa. He misses smoking. He misses smoking *a lot*. But until the tour finished and he could have surgery on the stupid fucking nodule on his vocal cord, Gabe was trying to follow the doctor's orders, and cutting back on smoking had been at the top of list. Behind not speaking or singing, that is. Gabe's doing better on the not-speaking, but as long as they're on tour, there's no way he's not singing for the ninety minutes he has to give to the kids in the crowd.
Gabe kicks back, props his feet up on the coffee table. He's got a cup of Cobra Venom (it's really just a caipirinha with extra lime and some grenadine to give it color, but he's not sharing that information with anyone) in his hand and a comfortable cushion under his ass, and he does not have to cram himself into a bunk for at least twenty four hours, so life is good.
He knows there'll be some crazy shenanigans tonight, even if he's not quite up to his normal hell-raising standard: the bands on his tour plus the four bands on Rock Band Live, all on a night off, in an MTV-provided hotel suite? It would be unusual if people didn't get wild. Nope, he's pretty sure it'll be the usual debauchery and decadence, especially since the Panic dudes have an extra day off to recover.
Jon and VickyT are sharing a cigarette on the balcony; he can't hear them, but they're probably bitching about being apart from their significant others, like no one else in the world understands their pain. Nate and Spencer have a practice pad out, drumming - Christ, it's their *day off*, and the pair of them can't spend an hour without sticks in their hands. Ryan and Chris Carrabba opened a bottle of red wine about half an hour ago, and their already down to the dregs. The Forever The Sickest Kids and Cab dudes are in charge of replenishing alcohol, and they're all out on a beer-and-liquor run - someone among them must be legal, or at least have a good fake ID - so the suite's relatively quiet. DeMar skipped off with a couple of girls who had been waiting for him at the venue doors in Orlando, according to Brendon, and Tom, Mike and Dave were nowhere to be seen. Gabe's not sure if they're antisocial or they've just had enough of the stunts The Cab and Panic boys get up to, and want a night off. Tim Lopez and Brendon are huddled together on a sofa on the other side of the room - fucking "conversation areas" and interior designers - talking acoustic guitars. Tim just got a new one, and he distracts Brendon from his anxious door-watching with an offer to let him try it out.
Of course, once Brendon's absorbed with Tim and his new Epiphone, that's when Cash and company arrive.
Of course, instead of manning up and going to talk to Brendon, he frowns, and then grabs a Corona from the case he brought in and heads out to the balcony to light up.
Gabe can only shake his head. He's watched plenty of relationship stupidity, on the label and in his own band - he doesn't like to think of the ridiculous amount of tension that had built up before Ryland and Alex finally started fucking, instead of just flirting - but Cash and Brendon's levels of fail are epic, in comparison. And he gets it, really: Tim is hot, objectively speaking, and Brendon's deep in conversation with him; Cash is used to Brendon's attention being focused on him - hell, the entire label and half their fan base know the two of them are crazy about each other in their own too-ridiculous-to-be-believed way - so he's sulking. But it's really his own fault, since he's the one who hooked up with Brendon and then freaked out, sneaking out the next morning before Brendon woke. Singer'd found him chain-smoking furiously by the Mule the next morning, and Cash had confessed after extracting a promise of silence. He should've known better - if Singer knew, everyone else was bound to hear by the end of the day. Not out of any malicious need to spread gossip, but because Singer was just that bad at keeping a secret.
So now Brendon avoids Cash, and Cash mopes, and the whole thing is just too reminiscent of high school for Gabe.
Still, Gabe feels sorry enough for Cash that later, when the majority of the alcohol and weed are gone and the party is winding down, most everybody paired off and tucked away for the night, he doesn't object when Cash stretches out next to him and mutters, "Looks like it's just us, man," as he lifts his bottle to clink against Gabe's cup.
Or untitled (as yet) Brendon/Spencer fic:
Spencer doesn't even notice when it changes, really. Maybe when they start touring again for Pretty.Odd, if he tries to pinpoint it.
They're just a rock band, Ryan insists. They're not pandering to the fans who want to believe they're all gay for each other, and they're stripping down their sound and their stage set-up, making the show less elaborate and scripted. Whatever. Spencer sits up on the kit and doesn't usually worry about Ryan's Grand Choreographed Plans for the show, so it doesn't matter to him. Jon's thrilled that he can wear flipflops or go barefoot. Brendon doesn't seem to care. If anything he's relieved not to put on all the makeup that he just sweated off every night anyway.
Except somehow in addition to the absence of the back-and-forth, stalk-and-retreat on stage, Ryan develops a new personal-space bubble, and defends it vigorously. Jon's breaches are permitted, but Brendon even accidentally jostling him when they're all squashed together on a sofa for an interview (crowd together *once* and they never get a second sofa at an interview again!) earns sharp elbows and sharper insults. Spencer tries to bring it up with Ryan, who stonewalls him, and ends up agreeing to room with Brendon on hotel nights.
Brendon frowns when Ryan brings up the "Brendon's the only single guy" as part of the intro to Lying, but doesn't object. Spencer knows him well enough now that he should expect something in retaliation, but he's still surprised when Brendon announces that he's up for "dudes too" when Ryan asks about single women at one of their shows in the UK. It pisses Ryan off, but at least their blowup clears the air. Ryan isn't quite so bitchy when Brendon flops down next to him on the sofa in the bus lounge, but Brendon does it less. Spencer notices an increase in the number of DVDs he watches with Brendon's feet tucked under his thigh or head against his shoulder, but, hey, the sofas are small.
Spencer is *used* to Brendon being right there next to him. Slumped against him at breakfast, waiting for coffee to take effect, their thighs barely touching as they sit side-by-side in interviews (they finally realize that it's a BAD IDEA to let Jon and Ryan talk to journalists when they've been smoking up - even if they're not high at the time, they are ridiculous, and that does not need to be immortalized on the internet), tackling him when they play Ultimate Frisbee out behind venues, leaning into him at meet-and-greets.
Shane and Zack laugh at the ridiculous poses some of their fans assume for their photo ops, but Brendon usually just follows their lead, pretending to be a Vulcan or throwing the fangs up enthusiastically. Spencer can't help but participate, throwing his arm around Brendon's shoulder and smiling at the cameras. It's such a small thing, and it makes their fans happy, so. It's good marketing, right?
There are bunches more unfinished fics - biting fic? Criminal Minds/bandom cross-over? Weasley twin/Harry potions incident? Jensen Ackles/Chris Kane porn? All just waiting for me to get inspired and finish them.
Tell me which you'd like to read.
Blaze
Brendon/Ian || ~950 words || teen
written via text message and IM by me and why_me_why_not, self-beta'd
fake, as in not real and never happened
Set around the time Ian auditioned to join The Cab? IDK, the IMs started like this: you know that Ian crashed with Bden & Shane, b/c Shane has family obligations, he has to let him. And Shane's busy with work, so it's up to Bden to keep him entertained.
*hands*
Anyway. Here are snippets from two of the WIPs on my laptop. Tell me which I should work on.
Not Skeezy Gabe fic:
There's already a haze of smoke in the room, even though the party's barely even under way. The room's probably a non-smoking room - fucking everywhere is nowadays, it seems like - so someone propped open the balcony door. It's not doing much good; even in early November, Tampa is muggy and warm, and there's not much breeze tonight. Gabe takes a deep breath and settles back against the sofa. He misses smoking. He misses smoking *a lot*. But until the tour finished and he could have surgery on the stupid fucking nodule on his vocal cord, Gabe was trying to follow the doctor's orders, and cutting back on smoking had been at the top of list. Behind not speaking or singing, that is. Gabe's doing better on the not-speaking, but as long as they're on tour, there's no way he's not singing for the ninety minutes he has to give to the kids in the crowd.
Gabe kicks back, props his feet up on the coffee table. He's got a cup of Cobra Venom (it's really just a caipirinha with extra lime and some grenadine to give it color, but he's not sharing that information with anyone) in his hand and a comfortable cushion under his ass, and he does not have to cram himself into a bunk for at least twenty four hours, so life is good.
He knows there'll be some crazy shenanigans tonight, even if he's not quite up to his normal hell-raising standard: the bands on his tour plus the four bands on Rock Band Live, all on a night off, in an MTV-provided hotel suite? It would be unusual if people didn't get wild. Nope, he's pretty sure it'll be the usual debauchery and decadence, especially since the Panic dudes have an extra day off to recover.
Jon and VickyT are sharing a cigarette on the balcony; he can't hear them, but they're probably bitching about being apart from their significant others, like no one else in the world understands their pain. Nate and Spencer have a practice pad out, drumming - Christ, it's their *day off*, and the pair of them can't spend an hour without sticks in their hands. Ryan and Chris Carrabba opened a bottle of red wine about half an hour ago, and their already down to the dregs. The Forever The Sickest Kids and Cab dudes are in charge of replenishing alcohol, and they're all out on a beer-and-liquor run - someone among them must be legal, or at least have a good fake ID - so the suite's relatively quiet. DeMar skipped off with a couple of girls who had been waiting for him at the venue doors in Orlando, according to Brendon, and Tom, Mike and Dave were nowhere to be seen. Gabe's not sure if they're antisocial or they've just had enough of the stunts The Cab and Panic boys get up to, and want a night off. Tim Lopez and Brendon are huddled together on a sofa on the other side of the room - fucking "conversation areas" and interior designers - talking acoustic guitars. Tim just got a new one, and he distracts Brendon from his anxious door-watching with an offer to let him try it out.
Of course, once Brendon's absorbed with Tim and his new Epiphone, that's when Cash and company arrive.
Of course, instead of manning up and going to talk to Brendon, he frowns, and then grabs a Corona from the case he brought in and heads out to the balcony to light up.
Gabe can only shake his head. He's watched plenty of relationship stupidity, on the label and in his own band - he doesn't like to think of the ridiculous amount of tension that had built up before Ryland and Alex finally started fucking, instead of just flirting - but Cash and Brendon's levels of fail are epic, in comparison. And he gets it, really: Tim is hot, objectively speaking, and Brendon's deep in conversation with him; Cash is used to Brendon's attention being focused on him - hell, the entire label and half their fan base know the two of them are crazy about each other in their own too-ridiculous-to-be-believed way - so he's sulking. But it's really his own fault, since he's the one who hooked up with Brendon and then freaked out, sneaking out the next morning before Brendon woke. Singer'd found him chain-smoking furiously by the Mule the next morning, and Cash had confessed after extracting a promise of silence. He should've known better - if Singer knew, everyone else was bound to hear by the end of the day. Not out of any malicious need to spread gossip, but because Singer was just that bad at keeping a secret.
So now Brendon avoids Cash, and Cash mopes, and the whole thing is just too reminiscent of high school for Gabe.
Still, Gabe feels sorry enough for Cash that later, when the majority of the alcohol and weed are gone and the party is winding down, most everybody paired off and tucked away for the night, he doesn't object when Cash stretches out next to him and mutters, "Looks like it's just us, man," as he lifts his bottle to clink against Gabe's cup.
Or untitled (as yet) Brendon/Spencer fic:
Spencer doesn't even notice when it changes, really. Maybe when they start touring again for Pretty.Odd, if he tries to pinpoint it.
They're just a rock band, Ryan insists. They're not pandering to the fans who want to believe they're all gay for each other, and they're stripping down their sound and their stage set-up, making the show less elaborate and scripted. Whatever. Spencer sits up on the kit and doesn't usually worry about Ryan's Grand Choreographed Plans for the show, so it doesn't matter to him. Jon's thrilled that he can wear flipflops or go barefoot. Brendon doesn't seem to care. If anything he's relieved not to put on all the makeup that he just sweated off every night anyway.
Except somehow in addition to the absence of the back-and-forth, stalk-and-retreat on stage, Ryan develops a new personal-space bubble, and defends it vigorously. Jon's breaches are permitted, but Brendon even accidentally jostling him when they're all squashed together on a sofa for an interview (crowd together *once* and they never get a second sofa at an interview again!) earns sharp elbows and sharper insults. Spencer tries to bring it up with Ryan, who stonewalls him, and ends up agreeing to room with Brendon on hotel nights.
Brendon frowns when Ryan brings up the "Brendon's the only single guy" as part of the intro to Lying, but doesn't object. Spencer knows him well enough now that he should expect something in retaliation, but he's still surprised when Brendon announces that he's up for "dudes too" when Ryan asks about single women at one of their shows in the UK. It pisses Ryan off, but at least their blowup clears the air. Ryan isn't quite so bitchy when Brendon flops down next to him on the sofa in the bus lounge, but Brendon does it less. Spencer notices an increase in the number of DVDs he watches with Brendon's feet tucked under his thigh or head against his shoulder, but, hey, the sofas are small.
Spencer is *used* to Brendon being right there next to him. Slumped against him at breakfast, waiting for coffee to take effect, their thighs barely touching as they sit side-by-side in interviews (they finally realize that it's a BAD IDEA to let Jon and Ryan talk to journalists when they've been smoking up - even if they're not high at the time, they are ridiculous, and that does not need to be immortalized on the internet), tackling him when they play Ultimate Frisbee out behind venues, leaning into him at meet-and-greets.
Shane and Zack laugh at the ridiculous poses some of their fans assume for their photo ops, but Brendon usually just follows their lead, pretending to be a Vulcan or throwing the fangs up enthusiastically. Spencer can't help but participate, throwing his arm around Brendon's shoulder and smiling at the cameras. It's such a small thing, and it makes their fans happy, so. It's good marketing, right?
There are bunches more unfinished fics - biting fic? Criminal Minds/bandom cross-over? Weasley twin/Harry potions incident? Jensen Ackles/Chris Kane porn? All just waiting for me to get inspired and finish them.
Tell me which you'd like to read.