This Universe - Bandom, G, Brendon/Patrick.
Title: This Universe
Fandom: Bandom
Rating: G
Length: ~1470 words.
Characters/Pairings: Brendon/Patrick.
Summary: Patrick blinked. "I just normally get some kind of 'bigger on the inside' comment first." (Doctor Who AU.)
Notes: This is what happens when you're procrastinating from NaNo work on Tumblr and you stumble upon brilliant fanart like this (which is also where the title comes from). I wrote the story with katienyc in mind since we've both been itching for Brendon/Patrick. It might not be the Jesus!Brendon/devil!Patrick story knocking around in my head, but I'll get there!
Also on AO3 and DW.
This Universe
"What was that?"
Spencer didn't look up from his phone. "What was what?"
Brendon heard it again: a whooshing, getting louder and closer. "That! You can't hear it?"
Spencer shrugged.
Brendon paced for a couple of seconds. He froze when the noise stopped altogether. "I'll be out back. Call me if we have to go on."
"Sure."
Brendon opened the back door and went outside. It was much colder than it had been inside; he could see his breath as he walked up and down the alley where the trucks and buses were parked. A couple techs passed by and nodded or ignored Brendon; he waved distractedly and kept walking.
It wasn't until he was almost ready to turn around and go back inside that he saw it, at the edge of an empty lot. It looked kind of like a phone booth, but not really. Most of the phones he saw these days were on little stands, not held in wooden blue boxes. And they didn't have lights on the top, much less roofs large enough for people to perch upon.
(Once he made it within a few feet, Brendon could read the 'police box' sign, but he never really registered that he did see it. It was too British for him to understand anyway.)
Someone was definitely perching. As Brendon got closer, he saw a man leaning against the light, staring up at the stars. It wasn't the oddest thing Brendon had ever seen, not by a long shot, but it was kinda off that he wore a really sleek suit, at least in this neighborhood.
(Brendon was a little jealous of the suit, if he was being honest with himself.)
"Hey," Brendon said, coming up to the box. He ran his hand up the side. It really was wood; he could feel the grain under his palm. "Did you hear the noise?"
"Oh." The man blinked down at him, surprised. Then he grinned, slightly bashful. "What noise?"
"It was this whooshing, like..." Brendon made the sound. Then he frowned. "No, that wasn't it. It was more like..." Yeah. That was better.
The man's smile grew, and he slid down from the top of the box. Or he dangled for a minute and dropped to the ground. Brendon wasn't the tallest guy around, but this dude was making him feel like a giant. The stranger smoothed his blond hair and his jacket before holding out his hand. "I'm Patrick."
"Brendon." Patrick had a nice handshake. It was the kind of handshake someone got after shaking a lot of hands; Brendon probably had something similar. "Can you really do a lot of stargazing in the city?"
"Not really, no."
"So why bother?"
Patrick shrugged. "Lots to see in a city besides stars: people, restaurants, record stores." Patrick's gaze went a little distant. "Record stores. I could really use another copy of Raw Power. The scratched one I have is awesome, but vinyl really starts to fall apart after a couple hundred years."
Brendon laughed. "Dude, I know vinyl's old, but come on."
Patrick focused again, looking a little surprised at Brendon, but he gave the slightly sheepish smile again, and Brendon stopped feeling the chill outside.
"Brendon!" A voice came from the alley he'd left behind. Probably Zack, judging by the annoyed tone. Spencer never cared what Brendon did.
"Shit," Brendon said. He looked toward the voice, and back again. "Will you still be here in a couple hours? I've got a...thing."
"Maybe," Patrick said, glancing back up at the top of his box. "There's still a lot of stars to not see."
"Great. I'll be back. Don't go anywhere."
"Can't make any promises. I might make a run for the country."
Brendon pat Patrick's arm before running toward Zack's voice, which grew louder and more irritated by the second.
-
The second Brendon escaped the fans and assured Zack he'd call a cab long before bus call, he jogged toward the lot.
For a second, the lot looked empty, and Brendon's heart sank. But he heard a thumping noise, and he rounded a small shack in the corner, and the box was there. It had moved - which, wow, big thing to move - but it looked exactly the same as before, only the windows glowed with some inner light, and it rattled the tiniest bit, like there were small speakers inside the walls. The door was ajar a little bit, so Brendon pushed and--
"Whoa."
Brendon stuck his head out the door. The lot was still the same. And when he pulled back in, the box was...well, nearly the size of the club they just played. No, it was bigger; there were stairs leading out of the room, and who the hell knew where they led. If it wasn't for the...whatever was in the middle of the room, some kind of control panel, maybe? Brendon could play a show to a hundred people or more.
The music which had thumped from the outside was blaring inside. Patrick was stretched out in a chair, his feet up on the console, eyes closed. He mouthed along to the words, and after a second, Brendon zeroed in.
"Little Red Corvette? Really?"
Patrick's eyes flew open, and his feet fell to the ground. "I...what...how did you get in?"
Brendon pointed to the open door behind as Patrick reached for some kind of button. The music got quieter. "Wasn't locked. What kind of sound system do you have?"
"That's your first question? Really?"
"Actually, my first question was 'Little Red Corvette?'. The sound system was my third question, I think."
Patrick blinked. "I just normally get some kind of 'bigger on the inside' comment first."
"Huh." Brendon looked around. "I guess that might've made more sense. But music's kind of what I do, so."
Patrick grinned. "You know, Queen sounds amazing on these speakers."
-
They both fit on the roof of the box - the TARDIS, as Patrick off-handedly called it - and Brendon wasn't the least bit sorry for clinging to Patrick the second they made it up there. It was less because there were on the roof of some kind of spaceship and more because they'd appeared in a place with some kind of orange grass.
("The views are amazing," Patrick had assured him after they'd blown through A Kind of Magic and before they'd left.
"Can you get me to my bus on time?"
"That's the last thing you have to worry about." And then he'd thrown a lever, and the box made the same whooshing sound Brendon had heard earlier, and it was really cool.)
But it was also a little chillier on this world (because Brendon was on another planet, what the hell), so Patrick threw a leather coat over his suit and seemed perfectly fine. Brendon had no coat, since he'd still been sweating off the last of the show when he'd found Patrick again, but Patrick was warm. And he smelled great. Again, he wasn't sorry for wrapping his arms around Patrick and just holding on.
"See that?" Patrick gestured to a reddish glow to the south with his free arm. "Great cities there. One did the thing Earth does sometimes where they build on top of old ruins, but they did it for centuries, so I visited every hundred years or so and watched the city get taller and taller. They had to brace it so it could withstand leaving the atmosphere."
"Wow," Brendon said. He loved how Patrick's face lit up while he was talking. (Not literally. Considering Patrick might not even be human - if the thumping in his chest was any clue, he had more than one heart - it was an important mental note to add.)
"And that one." Patrick pointed to a green glow at the opposite end of the sky. "Whole planet of musicians. The percussion continent had the best drummers, you don't even know."
Brendon grinned. "You like drums?"
"Definitely," Patrick said. "Every time I...well, I go through some changes every few years, take on a different look, that kind of thing. I usually take on a new instrument, too. But drums were my first, and I'll always..." He broke off and blushed a little. "I'm totally boring you. You probably want to go back, don't you? I--"
He cut off, but it was only because Brendon kind of leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. Brendon knew, from personal experience, that kissing made talking a little hard. It still allowed for noises, though, and Patrick made a little sigh in the back of his throat that was fantastic.
When Brendon drew back, Patrick said, "Or maybe you want to stay a little while longer."
"Maybe," Brendon said, and he went in for more.
Fandom: Bandom
Rating: G
Length: ~1470 words.
Characters/Pairings: Brendon/Patrick.
Summary: Patrick blinked. "I just normally get some kind of 'bigger on the inside' comment first." (Doctor Who AU.)
Notes: This is what happens when you're procrastinating from NaNo work on Tumblr and you stumble upon brilliant fanart like this (which is also where the title comes from). I wrote the story with katienyc in mind since we've both been itching for Brendon/Patrick. It might not be the Jesus!Brendon/devil!Patrick story knocking around in my head, but I'll get there!
Also on AO3 and DW.
This Universe
"What was that?"
Spencer didn't look up from his phone. "What was what?"
Brendon heard it again: a whooshing, getting louder and closer. "That! You can't hear it?"
Spencer shrugged.
Brendon paced for a couple of seconds. He froze when the noise stopped altogether. "I'll be out back. Call me if we have to go on."
"Sure."
Brendon opened the back door and went outside. It was much colder than it had been inside; he could see his breath as he walked up and down the alley where the trucks and buses were parked. A couple techs passed by and nodded or ignored Brendon; he waved distractedly and kept walking.
It wasn't until he was almost ready to turn around and go back inside that he saw it, at the edge of an empty lot. It looked kind of like a phone booth, but not really. Most of the phones he saw these days were on little stands, not held in wooden blue boxes. And they didn't have lights on the top, much less roofs large enough for people to perch upon.
(Once he made it within a few feet, Brendon could read the 'police box' sign, but he never really registered that he did see it. It was too British for him to understand anyway.)
Someone was definitely perching. As Brendon got closer, he saw a man leaning against the light, staring up at the stars. It wasn't the oddest thing Brendon had ever seen, not by a long shot, but it was kinda off that he wore a really sleek suit, at least in this neighborhood.
(Brendon was a little jealous of the suit, if he was being honest with himself.)
"Hey," Brendon said, coming up to the box. He ran his hand up the side. It really was wood; he could feel the grain under his palm. "Did you hear the noise?"
"Oh." The man blinked down at him, surprised. Then he grinned, slightly bashful. "What noise?"
"It was this whooshing, like..." Brendon made the sound. Then he frowned. "No, that wasn't it. It was more like..." Yeah. That was better.
The man's smile grew, and he slid down from the top of the box. Or he dangled for a minute and dropped to the ground. Brendon wasn't the tallest guy around, but this dude was making him feel like a giant. The stranger smoothed his blond hair and his jacket before holding out his hand. "I'm Patrick."
"Brendon." Patrick had a nice handshake. It was the kind of handshake someone got after shaking a lot of hands; Brendon probably had something similar. "Can you really do a lot of stargazing in the city?"
"Not really, no."
"So why bother?"
Patrick shrugged. "Lots to see in a city besides stars: people, restaurants, record stores." Patrick's gaze went a little distant. "Record stores. I could really use another copy of Raw Power. The scratched one I have is awesome, but vinyl really starts to fall apart after a couple hundred years."
Brendon laughed. "Dude, I know vinyl's old, but come on."
Patrick focused again, looking a little surprised at Brendon, but he gave the slightly sheepish smile again, and Brendon stopped feeling the chill outside.
"Brendon!" A voice came from the alley he'd left behind. Probably Zack, judging by the annoyed tone. Spencer never cared what Brendon did.
"Shit," Brendon said. He looked toward the voice, and back again. "Will you still be here in a couple hours? I've got a...thing."
"Maybe," Patrick said, glancing back up at the top of his box. "There's still a lot of stars to not see."
"Great. I'll be back. Don't go anywhere."
"Can't make any promises. I might make a run for the country."
Brendon pat Patrick's arm before running toward Zack's voice, which grew louder and more irritated by the second.
-
The second Brendon escaped the fans and assured Zack he'd call a cab long before bus call, he jogged toward the lot.
For a second, the lot looked empty, and Brendon's heart sank. But he heard a thumping noise, and he rounded a small shack in the corner, and the box was there. It had moved - which, wow, big thing to move - but it looked exactly the same as before, only the windows glowed with some inner light, and it rattled the tiniest bit, like there were small speakers inside the walls. The door was ajar a little bit, so Brendon pushed and--
"Whoa."
Brendon stuck his head out the door. The lot was still the same. And when he pulled back in, the box was...well, nearly the size of the club they just played. No, it was bigger; there were stairs leading out of the room, and who the hell knew where they led. If it wasn't for the...whatever was in the middle of the room, some kind of control panel, maybe? Brendon could play a show to a hundred people or more.
The music which had thumped from the outside was blaring inside. Patrick was stretched out in a chair, his feet up on the console, eyes closed. He mouthed along to the words, and after a second, Brendon zeroed in.
"Little Red Corvette? Really?"
Patrick's eyes flew open, and his feet fell to the ground. "I...what...how did you get in?"
Brendon pointed to the open door behind as Patrick reached for some kind of button. The music got quieter. "Wasn't locked. What kind of sound system do you have?"
"That's your first question? Really?"
"Actually, my first question was 'Little Red Corvette?'. The sound system was my third question, I think."
Patrick blinked. "I just normally get some kind of 'bigger on the inside' comment first."
"Huh." Brendon looked around. "I guess that might've made more sense. But music's kind of what I do, so."
Patrick grinned. "You know, Queen sounds amazing on these speakers."
-
They both fit on the roof of the box - the TARDIS, as Patrick off-handedly called it - and Brendon wasn't the least bit sorry for clinging to Patrick the second they made it up there. It was less because there were on the roof of some kind of spaceship and more because they'd appeared in a place with some kind of orange grass.
("The views are amazing," Patrick had assured him after they'd blown through A Kind of Magic and before they'd left.
"Can you get me to my bus on time?"
"That's the last thing you have to worry about." And then he'd thrown a lever, and the box made the same whooshing sound Brendon had heard earlier, and it was really cool.)
But it was also a little chillier on this world (because Brendon was on another planet, what the hell), so Patrick threw a leather coat over his suit and seemed perfectly fine. Brendon had no coat, since he'd still been sweating off the last of the show when he'd found Patrick again, but Patrick was warm. And he smelled great. Again, he wasn't sorry for wrapping his arms around Patrick and just holding on.
"See that?" Patrick gestured to a reddish glow to the south with his free arm. "Great cities there. One did the thing Earth does sometimes where they build on top of old ruins, but they did it for centuries, so I visited every hundred years or so and watched the city get taller and taller. They had to brace it so it could withstand leaving the atmosphere."
"Wow," Brendon said. He loved how Patrick's face lit up while he was talking. (Not literally. Considering Patrick might not even be human - if the thumping in his chest was any clue, he had more than one heart - it was an important mental note to add.)
"And that one." Patrick pointed to a green glow at the opposite end of the sky. "Whole planet of musicians. The percussion continent had the best drummers, you don't even know."
Brendon grinned. "You like drums?"
"Definitely," Patrick said. "Every time I...well, I go through some changes every few years, take on a different look, that kind of thing. I usually take on a new instrument, too. But drums were my first, and I'll always..." He broke off and blushed a little. "I'm totally boring you. You probably want to go back, don't you? I--"
He cut off, but it was only because Brendon kind of leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. Brendon knew, from personal experience, that kissing made talking a little hard. It still allowed for noises, though, and Patrick made a little sigh in the back of his throat that was fantastic.
When Brendon drew back, Patrick said, "Or maybe you want to stay a little while longer."
"Maybe," Brendon said, and he went in for more.