Fic 1
Title: Coffee.
Author: hypafix (working as a fic journal)
Rating: PG edging on PG-13, mainly for Ryan’s early morning potty mouth.
Pairing:Ryden, maybe, if you squint your eyes just right. Joncer too, though that’s fairly obvious.
POV: Omnipresent
Summary: The world looks much brighter post-caffeine
Disclaimer: Don’t own. Please don’t sue me for borrowing your boys and writing FICTIONAL stories about them.
Beta (and practically co-author): why_am_i
Author Notes: Pretty much morning fluff. Written in a politics lecture, rediscovered under my bed.
Dedication: My dear friend Kat on her birthday (which was sometime ago) and since this is her first Actual Contribution...
The concept of morning was a relative one when it came to Ryan. It was just before noon when Ryan managed to stumble out of his bunk and into the living room of the bus, with a ridiculous pair of oversized white-framed sunglasses, which covered half his face, perched on his nose. Brendon had especially chosen them for Ryan, and Ryan was maybe just a little bit attached to them. Ryan made the torturous seventeen step journey across the living room before gracefully slumping onto a bench at the table.
The rest of the band was gathered on the couch, watching Brendon’s new favourite Disney movie, ‘Pocahontas’. Jon and Spencer were somewhat surprised at Ryan’s emergence, because, after all, it was before midday. Brendon, however, completely failed to notice, so caught up was he in his off-key but remarkably enthusiastic singing of ‘Just Around the Riverbend’.
Ryan’s morning routine was quite predictable. Exactly seventeen minutes after his appearance, a plaintive voice from the dining room croaking “Coffee,” met with a resounding silence; Ryan’s croaking being barely audible above the magnificence of Pocahontas, and in his dazed state, he’d failed to account for the movie. “Coffee, bitches! Oi, Brendon!” came the aggro yell only moments later.
At this, Brendon’s head turned so fast he almost got whiplash. “Ryro! Good morning, sunshine!” he cried happily, beaming from a heady mixture of Disney movie and unexpected Ryan appearance.
“Brendon, stop fucking about and get me some goddamned coffee,” Ryan bitched.
“What’s the magic word?” Brendon wheedled playfully, as he located the remote and hit ‘pause’. Ryan sighed, lifting his sunglasses up over his eyes like they weighed ten tonnes (even though this little drama happened practically every morning) and croaked a feeble “…please?”
Brendon giggled. “Oops! Um… sorry! We must have drunk it all when it was morning for us, and Zack isn’t here yet and so we haven’t actually got any…no coffee. Right Spencer?” he said, turning to Spencer, who was documenting his support by enthusiastically snoozing on the couch, or rather on Jon, who was on the couch. “See? Spencer agrees with me!” Brendon claimed innocently, eyes wide and earnest.
Ryan groaned as he dragged his skinny ass out of the booth and lurched towards Brendon, arms outstretched in a scarily good impression of a zombie. In response, Brendon emitted a decidedly unmanly squeak, but with Spencer snoring gently and Ryan otherwise distracted, Brendon was not about to own up to the fact.
“Bden, I-”
“-love you oh so very much because you saved me the last cup of coffee, even though it meant enduring Spencer’s bitch face?” Brendon interrupted as he held out the peace offering.
“No,” replied Ryan, as he snatched the mug and curled protectively around it, taking a moment to inhale. “Bden, I am going to kill you, you fucker. But not before my coffee. New rule: no killing -or mutilating- before coffee,” Ryan finished as he slouched back to the dining room, sunglasses pressed firmly on his nose, to nurse his precious coffee until Zack arrived.
Jon, who had watched the entire exchange, noticed how carefully Brendon pretended not to notice the loving caress Ryan gave his beverage. Brendon ducked his head and resolutely avoided eye contact, and instead hit ‘play’ to resume a particularly boisterous round of ‘Colors of the Wind’; Spencer idly contemplated turning his shoe into a missile, but settled on snuggling further into Jon’s lap and complaining contentedly. Jon sighed.
.
Author: hypafix (working as a fic journal)
Rating: PG edging on PG-13, mainly for Ryan’s early morning potty mouth.
Pairing:Ryden, maybe, if you squint your eyes just right. Joncer too, though that’s fairly obvious.
POV: Omnipresent
Summary: The world looks much brighter post-caffeine
Disclaimer: Don’t own. Please don’t sue me for borrowing your boys and writing FICTIONAL stories about them.
Beta (and practically co-author): why_am_i
Author Notes: Pretty much morning fluff. Written in a politics lecture, rediscovered under my bed.
Dedication: My dear friend Kat on her birthday (which was sometime ago) and since this is her first Actual Contribution...
The concept of morning was a relative one when it came to Ryan. It was just before noon when Ryan managed to stumble out of his bunk and into the living room of the bus, with a ridiculous pair of oversized white-framed sunglasses, which covered half his face, perched on his nose. Brendon had especially chosen them for Ryan, and Ryan was maybe just a little bit attached to them. Ryan made the torturous seventeen step journey across the living room before gracefully slumping onto a bench at the table.
The rest of the band was gathered on the couch, watching Brendon’s new favourite Disney movie, ‘Pocahontas’. Jon and Spencer were somewhat surprised at Ryan’s emergence, because, after all, it was before midday. Brendon, however, completely failed to notice, so caught up was he in his off-key but remarkably enthusiastic singing of ‘Just Around the Riverbend’.
Ryan’s morning routine was quite predictable. Exactly seventeen minutes after his appearance, a plaintive voice from the dining room croaking “Coffee,” met with a resounding silence; Ryan’s croaking being barely audible above the magnificence of Pocahontas, and in his dazed state, he’d failed to account for the movie. “Coffee, bitches! Oi, Brendon!” came the aggro yell only moments later.
At this, Brendon’s head turned so fast he almost got whiplash. “Ryro! Good morning, sunshine!” he cried happily, beaming from a heady mixture of Disney movie and unexpected Ryan appearance.
“Brendon, stop fucking about and get me some goddamned coffee,” Ryan bitched.
“What’s the magic word?” Brendon wheedled playfully, as he located the remote and hit ‘pause’. Ryan sighed, lifting his sunglasses up over his eyes like they weighed ten tonnes (even though this little drama happened practically every morning) and croaked a feeble “…please?”
Brendon giggled. “Oops! Um… sorry! We must have drunk it all when it was morning for us, and Zack isn’t here yet and so we haven’t actually got any…no coffee. Right Spencer?” he said, turning to Spencer, who was documenting his support by enthusiastically snoozing on the couch, or rather on Jon, who was on the couch. “See? Spencer agrees with me!” Brendon claimed innocently, eyes wide and earnest.
Ryan groaned as he dragged his skinny ass out of the booth and lurched towards Brendon, arms outstretched in a scarily good impression of a zombie. In response, Brendon emitted a decidedly unmanly squeak, but with Spencer snoring gently and Ryan otherwise distracted, Brendon was not about to own up to the fact.
“Bden, I-”
“-love you oh so very much because you saved me the last cup of coffee, even though it meant enduring Spencer’s bitch face?” Brendon interrupted as he held out the peace offering.
“No,” replied Ryan, as he snatched the mug and curled protectively around it, taking a moment to inhale. “Bden, I am going to kill you, you fucker. But not before my coffee. New rule: no killing -or mutilating- before coffee,” Ryan finished as he slouched back to the dining room, sunglasses pressed firmly on his nose, to nurse his precious coffee until Zack arrived.
Jon, who had watched the entire exchange, noticed how carefully Brendon pretended not to notice the loving caress Ryan gave his beverage. Brendon ducked his head and resolutely avoided eye contact, and instead hit ‘play’ to resume a particularly boisterous round of ‘Colors of the Wind’; Spencer idly contemplated turning his shoe into a missile, but settled on snuggling further into Jon’s lap and complaining contentedly. Jon sighed.
.