Sorry for the spam, but sometimes posting snippets helps me
So, here's a snippet for the Flying Verse fic that I'm working on (starting working on it in January, but haven't really done more than open it and stare at it in over a month). Basically, this part of the story is dealing with the logistics of their relationship. The first pieces were all about falling in love and what nots, this is about Alex's mom finding out that her little baby has a significantly older boyfriend. And really, about all of that as a whole, like Shane starting sentences with shit like "So, I remember this one time and in high school, I was totally high... And you were... not even in kindergarten, awesome."
And then there will be the logistics of van life, Shane's filming. That sort of thing. Like domestic, but, you know, fucked up, since I have a feeling it'll probably end up the Valdes/DeLeon Urie/Colligan household and there is no way that could ever be good. Ever.
Singer and Shane one of the world's dumbest fights. Basically, Shane doesn't feel well, and instead of just saying "I don't feel good" he yells at Singer. And instead of Singer just asking him what's wrong, he breaks up with Shane in no less than 6 different text messages
********
“You owe me a blowjob,” Cash says as he comes through the garage with Brendon in tow, shaking his head. The last thing Shane needs right now is Cash and Brendon. “Shane,” Cash says brightly. “What'd you do?”
Shane slumps his shoulders and takes a few long gulps of beers. “Nothing,” he says after he swallows. He burps and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Why?”
Cash's phone beeps three times in a row. “That's why. He keeps texting me. Something about you and asshattery. And telling him to blow you and to fuck off. He's really fucking upset. I tried to call him. And my response is those three messages you just heard come through.” He flips open the phone. “You know that we're only home for a week, right?”
Shane pinches at his nose again and there are flashes of light when he closes his eyes.
“He has a migraine,” Brendon says. “You should take your medicine, Shane, and not drink beer.”
Shane puts his beer on the counter. “Shut up.”
“You shut up,” Brendon replies and pulls down Shane's migraine medication from the cabinet where they keep their phone books and other odds and ends. “You should get this refilled. Also, I think that they're expired.”
Shane only has to take the migraine pills once or twice a year, so he never remembers to get them refilled. “They couldn't have expired all that long ago, I'm sure they're fine. Just give me one.”
Brendon shakes a pill into Shane's hand. Cash's phone beeps even before he can fully close it from sending a text message.
“Dude,” Cash says. “Please for the love of all that is good and holy tell me that you told Singer not to blow you because you didn't want him to bitch about having a sore jaw.”
Brendon frowns when Shane covers his face again. “You didn't. Tell me you didn't,” Brendon says.
“Maybe? I'm so fucking tired. And everything hurts. And he was just making noise. I just wanted it to stop.”
Cash drums his hand on the counter. “I'm going to start shaking all the silverware if you don't make this better. You know that you're all he talks about when we're on tour. And it gets even worse. He had an hour countdown. Every hour, on the hour, for the last 100 hours before we got here, he told us how many hours it was until he got to see you again. Except for when he was sleeping.”
“God, fuck.” Shane goes to the sink and splashes his face with cold water. “I'm terrible.”
Cash opens the silverware drawer, picks up the divider and throws it to the floor, sending metal skittering around and Dylan starts howling.
Shane throws up in the sink.
“Dude,” Cash says, staring at Brendon with wide eyes. “I didn't think he was going to puke.”
********
This 2nd snippet occurs after Singer and Shane have talked things over, sort of.
********
Shane gets up, uses the restroom and when he comes out, there's a new text from Alex.
Mom doesnt like u v much atm. Should have told her in dfrnt way.
I love you, regardless
Shane takes the phone with him as he pads into the kitchen, where Cash and Brendon are intently making out. Apparently, they had started to make coffee, but only gotten as far as opening the machine to remove the old filter. “Morning, bitches,” Shane says. “No sex in the kitchen. Don't think I forgot about Alex's wrist.”
Cash blinks. “There was no sex in the kitchen that resulted in Singer getting hurt.”
Shane grabs the filter out of the pot and throws it in the trash. “Sure. That's your story. And Alex's. And Brendon's. But you're all a bunch of filthy liars.” He rummages around in the cabinet. “Are we out of the Sidamo?”
“Nope,” Brendon says, pulling it out from behind his back. “See, we started to make coffee. But then we got distracted.”
“You really didn't get far,” Shane says, taking the bag and pouring the beans into the grinder.
“I haven't gotten any angry texts from Singer. Only ones singing your praises. And something about his mom. Did he tell his mom? Because I've got to say, that while she's ok-ish with the queer, I think she's going to have an issue with you,” Cash says, jumping to sit on the counter. His dick juts out of the front of his boxers and Shane covers his eyes with his hand.
“Cash, put that away and watch where you're pointing it.” He pours the ground beans into a new filter and places it in the basket while Brendon pours the water. “And yeah, he told her. I've already had the big scary conversation at ass o'clock this morning. Speaking of which, why are you two up?”
“Haven't gone to sleep yet,” Brendon replies. “Plus, you were sleeping and Singer isn't here, so, kitchen sex.”
“Veto on the kitchen sex,” Shane says. “Veto for eternity. Have you put Dylan out?”
Brendon nods. “She can probably come back in now. So are you and snuggle-bunny all worked out now?”
Shane shrugs and looks at Cash. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how scared of Mrs. DeLeon should I be?”
“She know you're putting it to her baby boy?” Cash asks.
“To put it indelicately, yes.”
“Oh, then about a 72. She's going to fuck your shit up.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “Not helpful.”
Cash shakes his head. “You've got one of those mothers, don't you?”
Brendon and Shane both raise their eyebrows at Cash. “What does that mean?” Shane asks.
“Well, OK. Like, you know, the cultural thing.” He bites his lip. “OK, so like, what would your mom have thought if her baby Shane, not even out of his teens yet was banging some dude she'd never met who was pushing 30?”
“Hey!” Shane immediately protests. He hates being reminded that he's approaching the big 3-0. But then he pauses to think about it. “Yeah, so she would cut his testicles off, roast them with some poblanos, and then feed them to him.”
“Just talk about how amazing Alex is, and why you care about him. Don't mention him in any sexual way, and talk about how much you have in common,” Cash tells him “And play up the family thing. She'll love the fact that you're super close with them.”
“Are you helping me right now?” Shane asks.
Cash shrugs. “Whatever, I'm totally useful sometimes.”
********
And then there will be the logistics of van life, Shane's filming. That sort of thing. Like domestic, but, you know, fucked up, since I have a feeling it'll probably end up the Valdes/DeLeon Urie/Colligan household and there is no way that could ever be good. Ever.
Singer and Shane one of the world's dumbest fights. Basically, Shane doesn't feel well, and instead of just saying "I don't feel good" he yells at Singer. And instead of Singer just asking him what's wrong, he breaks up with Shane in no less than 6 different text messages
********
“You owe me a blowjob,” Cash says as he comes through the garage with Brendon in tow, shaking his head. The last thing Shane needs right now is Cash and Brendon. “Shane,” Cash says brightly. “What'd you do?”
Shane slumps his shoulders and takes a few long gulps of beers. “Nothing,” he says after he swallows. He burps and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Why?”
Cash's phone beeps three times in a row. “That's why. He keeps texting me. Something about you and asshattery. And telling him to blow you and to fuck off. He's really fucking upset. I tried to call him. And my response is those three messages you just heard come through.” He flips open the phone. “You know that we're only home for a week, right?”
Shane pinches at his nose again and there are flashes of light when he closes his eyes.
“He has a migraine,” Brendon says. “You should take your medicine, Shane, and not drink beer.”
Shane puts his beer on the counter. “Shut up.”
“You shut up,” Brendon replies and pulls down Shane's migraine medication from the cabinet where they keep their phone books and other odds and ends. “You should get this refilled. Also, I think that they're expired.”
Shane only has to take the migraine pills once or twice a year, so he never remembers to get them refilled. “They couldn't have expired all that long ago, I'm sure they're fine. Just give me one.”
Brendon shakes a pill into Shane's hand. Cash's phone beeps even before he can fully close it from sending a text message.
“Dude,” Cash says. “Please for the love of all that is good and holy tell me that you told Singer not to blow you because you didn't want him to bitch about having a sore jaw.”
Brendon frowns when Shane covers his face again. “You didn't. Tell me you didn't,” Brendon says.
“Maybe? I'm so fucking tired. And everything hurts. And he was just making noise. I just wanted it to stop.”
Cash drums his hand on the counter. “I'm going to start shaking all the silverware if you don't make this better. You know that you're all he talks about when we're on tour. And it gets even worse. He had an hour countdown. Every hour, on the hour, for the last 100 hours before we got here, he told us how many hours it was until he got to see you again. Except for when he was sleeping.”
“God, fuck.” Shane goes to the sink and splashes his face with cold water. “I'm terrible.”
Cash opens the silverware drawer, picks up the divider and throws it to the floor, sending metal skittering around and Dylan starts howling.
Shane throws up in the sink.
“Dude,” Cash says, staring at Brendon with wide eyes. “I didn't think he was going to puke.”
********
This 2nd snippet occurs after Singer and Shane have talked things over, sort of.
********
Shane gets up, uses the restroom and when he comes out, there's a new text from Alex.
Mom doesnt like u v much atm. Should have told her in dfrnt way.
I love you, regardless
Shane takes the phone with him as he pads into the kitchen, where Cash and Brendon are intently making out. Apparently, they had started to make coffee, but only gotten as far as opening the machine to remove the old filter. “Morning, bitches,” Shane says. “No sex in the kitchen. Don't think I forgot about Alex's wrist.”
Cash blinks. “There was no sex in the kitchen that resulted in Singer getting hurt.”
Shane grabs the filter out of the pot and throws it in the trash. “Sure. That's your story. And Alex's. And Brendon's. But you're all a bunch of filthy liars.” He rummages around in the cabinet. “Are we out of the Sidamo?”
“Nope,” Brendon says, pulling it out from behind his back. “See, we started to make coffee. But then we got distracted.”
“You really didn't get far,” Shane says, taking the bag and pouring the beans into the grinder.
“I haven't gotten any angry texts from Singer. Only ones singing your praises. And something about his mom. Did he tell his mom? Because I've got to say, that while she's ok-ish with the queer, I think she's going to have an issue with you,” Cash says, jumping to sit on the counter. His dick juts out of the front of his boxers and Shane covers his eyes with his hand.
“Cash, put that away and watch where you're pointing it.” He pours the ground beans into a new filter and places it in the basket while Brendon pours the water. “And yeah, he told her. I've already had the big scary conversation at ass o'clock this morning. Speaking of which, why are you two up?”
“Haven't gone to sleep yet,” Brendon replies. “Plus, you were sleeping and Singer isn't here, so, kitchen sex.”
“Veto on the kitchen sex,” Shane says. “Veto for eternity. Have you put Dylan out?”
Brendon nods. “She can probably come back in now. So are you and snuggle-bunny all worked out now?”
Shane shrugs and looks at Cash. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how scared of Mrs. DeLeon should I be?”
“She know you're putting it to her baby boy?” Cash asks.
“To put it indelicately, yes.”
“Oh, then about a 72. She's going to fuck your shit up.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “Not helpful.”
Cash shakes his head. “You've got one of those mothers, don't you?”
Brendon and Shane both raise their eyebrows at Cash. “What does that mean?” Shane asks.
“Well, OK. Like, you know, the cultural thing.” He bites his lip. “OK, so like, what would your mom have thought if her baby Shane, not even out of his teens yet was banging some dude she'd never met who was pushing 30?”
“Hey!” Shane immediately protests. He hates being reminded that he's approaching the big 3-0. But then he pauses to think about it. “Yeah, so she would cut his testicles off, roast them with some poblanos, and then feed them to him.”
“Just talk about how amazing Alex is, and why you care about him. Don't mention him in any sexual way, and talk about how much you have in common,” Cash tells him “And play up the family thing. She'll love the fact that you're super close with them.”
“Are you helping me right now?” Shane asks.
Cash shrugs. “Whatever, I'm totally useful sometimes.”
********