Demons! At the Disco
Wet boy! Floaty!Ryan! Bad jokes! All this and more in this part. 1,725 words.
Previously:
Arc 1: about Brent... | nutritious & delicious | seductively sexy bird | stalked by PMS | Ryan and his emo | power of names | JWalk kicks ass | Spencer cares | SJSV revealed!
Arc 2: pet humans | Tom arrives | Tomrad's troubles | the Impundulu is the new Robin | Jon-Zack bonding! | magic 8-ball of awesome | with his thighs
Arc 3: the angry puddle | lacking legs
When Brendon stumbles onto the bus sometime late the next morning, he's soaked to the skin and, well, the only word for it is bedraggled. Though he's only just got up himself, Jon wordlessly hands over his just-poured cup of coffee. Brendon clutches at the mug like it's a lifeline, gulping down the contents so fast it's like he doesn't even notice that it's scalding hot. Considering the fact that he's practically one-third electricity or something, he probably doesn't.
"Long night?" Zack asks, raising an eyebrow. Jon takes advantage of his being distracted by the still-feathery state of Brendon's hair to slip in and steal Zack's coffee. When Zack glares at him, Jon makes sure to cultivate a look of sleepy, wide-eyed innocence.
Brendon waits until he's emptied Jon's mug before replying. "I signed up for fighting crime and righting wrongs, not daring, last-minute rescues, what the hell," he gripes. Cradling Zack's mug close to his chest lest it be stolen back, Jon watches with sleepy bemusement as Brendon removes his glasses, wipes off the raindrops still clinging to them, then puts them on again. Once back in place, the frames slowly bleed from red to solid, dense black. Jon frowns. He knows that, theoretically, Brendon's glasses are physical manifestations of the the markings around his eyes in his true, demonic form. It stands to reason that if Brendon can go from being a big bird to boy, it shouldn't be too much of a stretch for him to change to color of his glasses if he wants. But Jon still can't figure out how the fuck Brendon can take them off if they're a part of him.
"Rescues? Like, what? Damsels in distress?" Jon asks curiously. He thinks it would be pretty damned cool to rescue hot girls from dragons and stuff. Though probably Brendon and Butcher don't do anything like that, if for no other reason than that Brendon seems to get on well with dragons, or so he claims.
"Try three kids and their grandma. I am not meant to carry that much weight at one time, fuck. My back aches and my wings feel like they're about to fall off." Brendon sets the mug down on the table and wiggles his arms to demonstrate.
"Arms," Zack corrects automatically, "not wings. What gives? I thought that you and Butcher mostly go after purse-snatchers and stuff." Jon nods-he's always figured it's a case where Brendon scares the criminals shitless long enough for Andy to make a citizen's arrest, tie them up, and call the cops.
"The storm got really bad. We spent most of the night getting people to safety," Brendon says, collapsing into Jon on the bench. Jon automatically flinches away-Brendon may have done some pretty heroic stuff, but he is still cold and wet-which prompts Brendon to make sad eyes at him. Because he is strong, Jon does not cave to the eyes. Zack, weakling that he is, does, and tosses Brendon a towel. "Zack, I love you best," Brendon says happily. "Y'hear that, Ryan? You have been replaced in my affections and are no longer necessary," he calls in the direction of the bunks.
There's a grunt in response, is which odd, as Ryan really isn't the grunting type, and really only makes sense when Spencer stumbles out, hair mussed with sleep and looking fuzzier than usual. Or, well. Fuzzier than usual for his human form. Jon was right about one thing, at least-Spencer can definitely rock a beard. "You can stop your weird courtship ritual," Spencer grumbles, "he's not here."
"Reign back the fur, Smith. The fans may not have tabs on you every minute of every day yet, but you can be the rest of the tour is going to notice if you grow a beard overnight," Zack says, frowning. "What do you mean, Ryan's not here? None of you were supposed to go out in that mess last night." Spencer looks at Brendon, who's sending out weak sparks as he vigorously dries his hair, and opens his mouth. Before he can speak, though, Zack cuts him off. "Brendon had special permission. Where's Ryan?"
"Fuck if I know," Spencer says sulkily. "He never came back last night. Probably spent it on the Cobra bus, lucky bastard. You know he totally changed the pattern on his scarf partway through the show, right? And he's right in front where everyone can see him."
"Yes, but he also has so many scarves that people have a hard time telling one from another. Also, I didn't see it. If I don't see it, I can't call it. Think sports, Smith," Zack tells him amicably. "You three, stay here. Brendon, get dry, I'm not putting up with you catching the death flu again," he says as he heads towards the door, no doubt on a mission to retrieve Ryan. Zack takes his responsibilities as mind for the Panic demons very seriously, Jon has noticed.
Brendon sticks out his tongue. "It's just water, Zack. It's not going to hurt me."
"Electricity and water aren't supposed to mix," Jon remarks. He winces and regrets the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, knowing that Brendon is likely to take them the wrong way. From the look on Brendon's face, he has. "Oh, hey, I didn't mean it like that, Bren."
"No, it's a good point," Brendon mutters, pulling the towel over his head despite his hair being mostly dry by now. "You're right. They aren't supposed to."
"I want him fixed before I get back, Walker," Zack tells Jon, frowning as he points at him. Jon gulps and nods, pulling Brendon closer and rubbing his back. Spencer, having apparently decided some things take priority over sulking, crowds Brendon from the other side, wrapping an arm around his waist and lifting the towel to talk to him softly. Bitch though he may about Brendon accidentally shocking him, Spencer comes through when it's needed. Zack nods to himself, apparently satisfied that things will be taken care of while he's gone, and opens the door.
For a giant lightning bird traditionally known for seducing women so he can drink their blood, Brendon responds really, really well to any kind of cuddling, snuggling, and hugging. Maybe it's a kind of thing where he's a negative charge, so he's attracted to positive ones? Whatever, it's not like Jon really remembers high school physics much of at all. He mostly just puts it down to static cling and leaves it at that.
Between the two of them, it doesn't take long for Brendon to calm down some. Granted, it's mainly a switch from morose and somewhat-feathery to quiet and very snuggly, which isn't "fixed" by a long shot, but at least he's less likely to attempt some incredibly stupid stunt when he's snuggling. If nothing else, Jon knows Spencer will pin Brendon down if he tries to escape before Spencer's good and ready to let him go. They've only just managed to get Brendon settled in when Zack returns, trailing a rather dazed-looking Ryan behind him.
"Look who I found wandering around outside," Zack grumbles. Ryan peers around Zack to beam at the rest of them and wave.
"Are you high?" Jon demands, suddenly annoyed with Ryan. Here Brendon's been moping (or stressing out over saving lives), Spencer seems to finally be losing his ability to stay human, and Ryan's been off having a good time, ignoring them both in favor of enjoying himself.
"No? I went to see Victoria? Only I couldn't find her on the Cobra Starship bus, so I had to look outside..." Ryan says. His hands sketch vague shapes in the air as he talks, before finally settling at his sides when he finishes with a shrug and a smile.
"Outside? You were outside all night?" Jon asks, aghast.
Ryan grins and nods enthusiastically. "It was really nice!"
"Nice?! What about the storm?"
"Storm?" Ryan's forehead furrows in confusion.
Beside Jon, Spencer sits up straighter and grabs Ryan's arm, tugging him closer. "Fuck, you're diluted," Spencer groans.
"Spencer, that is not a very nice thing to say," Ryan protests. "I am not deluded and I also taught you to be nicer to people than that. Or, well, your dad did, at least."
"No, Ry," Spencer says kindly, unbuttoning the cuff of Ryan's sleeve and tugging it up, "I mean you're diluted. Look."
Leaning over Brendon, Jon's surprised to see that Ryan's normally stick-thin wrists are so swollen they're nearly as thick as Spencer's. "Oh," Ryan says, blinking in surprise at his wrists. "How did that happen?"
"You stood out in the rain and were too distracted to remember to not absorb any of it, is my guess," Spencer sighs.
"Oops. I should probably go lie down until it filters out, huh?" Ryan hangs his head with shame.
"Might be best," Spencer agrees, turning him towards the bunks and giving him a bit of a push. Once Ryan's out of sight, Spencer groans. "I love him, but he makes shit decisions when he's diluted."
"I thought it didn't hurt him to combine with water?" Jon ventures, more than a little confused.
"Oh, he can," Zack sighs, "he just has to remember to keep his core essence pure and concentrated. Otherwise he starts getting all, well, floaty. Plus, if there are any impurities in the water he's absorbed they can wreck havoc to his systems."
"He's really sweet when he's diluted," Brendon volunteers from the depths of his towel. "Spacey, but sweet."
Zack's eyes narrow. "You're not allowed to snuggle him," he says, pointing accusingly at Brendon. "If he's filtering, that means he's going to be soggy. You just got dry, and I'm not tolerating illness on this bus."
Brendon's head pokes out far enough to pout at Zack. "Not fair, Zack," he huffs. "I no longer love you best."
Jon rolls his eyes and tugs him closer. Brendon comes willingly, snuggling into him and humming in contentment. Spencer follows automatically, tracking the warmth of Brendon's body lean into them, squishing Jon up against the wall of the bus. Wrapping an arm around Brendon's shoulder, Jon relaxes. Things may get odd sometimes with these guys, but at least he never has to worry about them straying far from the norm for very long.
Oh look- have some more.
Previously:
Arc 1: about Brent... | nutritious & delicious | seductively sexy bird | stalked by PMS | Ryan and his emo | power of names | JWalk kicks ass | Spencer cares | SJSV revealed!
Arc 2: pet humans | Tom arrives | Tomrad's troubles | the Impundulu is the new Robin | Jon-Zack bonding! | magic 8-ball of awesome | with his thighs
Arc 3: the angry puddle | lacking legs
When Brendon stumbles onto the bus sometime late the next morning, he's soaked to the skin and, well, the only word for it is bedraggled. Though he's only just got up himself, Jon wordlessly hands over his just-poured cup of coffee. Brendon clutches at the mug like it's a lifeline, gulping down the contents so fast it's like he doesn't even notice that it's scalding hot. Considering the fact that he's practically one-third electricity or something, he probably doesn't.
"Long night?" Zack asks, raising an eyebrow. Jon takes advantage of his being distracted by the still-feathery state of Brendon's hair to slip in and steal Zack's coffee. When Zack glares at him, Jon makes sure to cultivate a look of sleepy, wide-eyed innocence.
Brendon waits until he's emptied Jon's mug before replying. "I signed up for fighting crime and righting wrongs, not daring, last-minute rescues, what the hell," he gripes. Cradling Zack's mug close to his chest lest it be stolen back, Jon watches with sleepy bemusement as Brendon removes his glasses, wipes off the raindrops still clinging to them, then puts them on again. Once back in place, the frames slowly bleed from red to solid, dense black. Jon frowns. He knows that, theoretically, Brendon's glasses are physical manifestations of the the markings around his eyes in his true, demonic form. It stands to reason that if Brendon can go from being a big bird to boy, it shouldn't be too much of a stretch for him to change to color of his glasses if he wants. But Jon still can't figure out how the fuck Brendon can take them off if they're a part of him.
"Rescues? Like, what? Damsels in distress?" Jon asks curiously. He thinks it would be pretty damned cool to rescue hot girls from dragons and stuff. Though probably Brendon and Butcher don't do anything like that, if for no other reason than that Brendon seems to get on well with dragons, or so he claims.
"Try three kids and their grandma. I am not meant to carry that much weight at one time, fuck. My back aches and my wings feel like they're about to fall off." Brendon sets the mug down on the table and wiggles his arms to demonstrate.
"Arms," Zack corrects automatically, "not wings. What gives? I thought that you and Butcher mostly go after purse-snatchers and stuff." Jon nods-he's always figured it's a case where Brendon scares the criminals shitless long enough for Andy to make a citizen's arrest, tie them up, and call the cops.
"The storm got really bad. We spent most of the night getting people to safety," Brendon says, collapsing into Jon on the bench. Jon automatically flinches away-Brendon may have done some pretty heroic stuff, but he is still cold and wet-which prompts Brendon to make sad eyes at him. Because he is strong, Jon does not cave to the eyes. Zack, weakling that he is, does, and tosses Brendon a towel. "Zack, I love you best," Brendon says happily. "Y'hear that, Ryan? You have been replaced in my affections and are no longer necessary," he calls in the direction of the bunks.
There's a grunt in response, is which odd, as Ryan really isn't the grunting type, and really only makes sense when Spencer stumbles out, hair mussed with sleep and looking fuzzier than usual. Or, well. Fuzzier than usual for his human form. Jon was right about one thing, at least-Spencer can definitely rock a beard. "You can stop your weird courtship ritual," Spencer grumbles, "he's not here."
"Reign back the fur, Smith. The fans may not have tabs on you every minute of every day yet, but you can be the rest of the tour is going to notice if you grow a beard overnight," Zack says, frowning. "What do you mean, Ryan's not here? None of you were supposed to go out in that mess last night." Spencer looks at Brendon, who's sending out weak sparks as he vigorously dries his hair, and opens his mouth. Before he can speak, though, Zack cuts him off. "Brendon had special permission. Where's Ryan?"
"Fuck if I know," Spencer says sulkily. "He never came back last night. Probably spent it on the Cobra bus, lucky bastard. You know he totally changed the pattern on his scarf partway through the show, right? And he's right in front where everyone can see him."
"Yes, but he also has so many scarves that people have a hard time telling one from another. Also, I didn't see it. If I don't see it, I can't call it. Think sports, Smith," Zack tells him amicably. "You three, stay here. Brendon, get dry, I'm not putting up with you catching the death flu again," he says as he heads towards the door, no doubt on a mission to retrieve Ryan. Zack takes his responsibilities as mind for the Panic demons very seriously, Jon has noticed.
Brendon sticks out his tongue. "It's just water, Zack. It's not going to hurt me."
"Electricity and water aren't supposed to mix," Jon remarks. He winces and regrets the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, knowing that Brendon is likely to take them the wrong way. From the look on Brendon's face, he has. "Oh, hey, I didn't mean it like that, Bren."
"No, it's a good point," Brendon mutters, pulling the towel over his head despite his hair being mostly dry by now. "You're right. They aren't supposed to."
"I want him fixed before I get back, Walker," Zack tells Jon, frowning as he points at him. Jon gulps and nods, pulling Brendon closer and rubbing his back. Spencer, having apparently decided some things take priority over sulking, crowds Brendon from the other side, wrapping an arm around his waist and lifting the towel to talk to him softly. Bitch though he may about Brendon accidentally shocking him, Spencer comes through when it's needed. Zack nods to himself, apparently satisfied that things will be taken care of while he's gone, and opens the door.
For a giant lightning bird traditionally known for seducing women so he can drink their blood, Brendon responds really, really well to any kind of cuddling, snuggling, and hugging. Maybe it's a kind of thing where he's a negative charge, so he's attracted to positive ones? Whatever, it's not like Jon really remembers high school physics much of at all. He mostly just puts it down to static cling and leaves it at that.
Between the two of them, it doesn't take long for Brendon to calm down some. Granted, it's mainly a switch from morose and somewhat-feathery to quiet and very snuggly, which isn't "fixed" by a long shot, but at least he's less likely to attempt some incredibly stupid stunt when he's snuggling. If nothing else, Jon knows Spencer will pin Brendon down if he tries to escape before Spencer's good and ready to let him go. They've only just managed to get Brendon settled in when Zack returns, trailing a rather dazed-looking Ryan behind him.
"Look who I found wandering around outside," Zack grumbles. Ryan peers around Zack to beam at the rest of them and wave.
"Are you high?" Jon demands, suddenly annoyed with Ryan. Here Brendon's been moping (or stressing out over saving lives), Spencer seems to finally be losing his ability to stay human, and Ryan's been off having a good time, ignoring them both in favor of enjoying himself.
"No? I went to see Victoria? Only I couldn't find her on the Cobra Starship bus, so I had to look outside..." Ryan says. His hands sketch vague shapes in the air as he talks, before finally settling at his sides when he finishes with a shrug and a smile.
"Outside? You were outside all night?" Jon asks, aghast.
Ryan grins and nods enthusiastically. "It was really nice!"
"Nice?! What about the storm?"
"Storm?" Ryan's forehead furrows in confusion.
Beside Jon, Spencer sits up straighter and grabs Ryan's arm, tugging him closer. "Fuck, you're diluted," Spencer groans.
"Spencer, that is not a very nice thing to say," Ryan protests. "I am not deluded and I also taught you to be nicer to people than that. Or, well, your dad did, at least."
"No, Ry," Spencer says kindly, unbuttoning the cuff of Ryan's sleeve and tugging it up, "I mean you're diluted. Look."
Leaning over Brendon, Jon's surprised to see that Ryan's normally stick-thin wrists are so swollen they're nearly as thick as Spencer's. "Oh," Ryan says, blinking in surprise at his wrists. "How did that happen?"
"You stood out in the rain and were too distracted to remember to not absorb any of it, is my guess," Spencer sighs.
"Oops. I should probably go lie down until it filters out, huh?" Ryan hangs his head with shame.
"Might be best," Spencer agrees, turning him towards the bunks and giving him a bit of a push. Once Ryan's out of sight, Spencer groans. "I love him, but he makes shit decisions when he's diluted."
"I thought it didn't hurt him to combine with water?" Jon ventures, more than a little confused.
"Oh, he can," Zack sighs, "he just has to remember to keep his core essence pure and concentrated. Otherwise he starts getting all, well, floaty. Plus, if there are any impurities in the water he's absorbed they can wreck havoc to his systems."
"He's really sweet when he's diluted," Brendon volunteers from the depths of his towel. "Spacey, but sweet."
Zack's eyes narrow. "You're not allowed to snuggle him," he says, pointing accusingly at Brendon. "If he's filtering, that means he's going to be soggy. You just got dry, and I'm not tolerating illness on this bus."
Brendon's head pokes out far enough to pout at Zack. "Not fair, Zack," he huffs. "I no longer love you best."
Jon rolls his eyes and tugs him closer. Brendon comes willingly, snuggling into him and humming in contentment. Spencer follows automatically, tracking the warmth of Brendon's body lean into them, squishing Jon up against the wall of the bus. Wrapping an arm around Brendon's shoulder, Jon relaxes. Things may get odd sometimes with these guys, but at least he never has to worry about them straying far from the norm for very long.
Oh look- have some more.