Panic Ficlet: Electric Boogaloo
So I started writing something, realized it wouldn't at all work for the prompt I'd been given, and then decided that if that was the case, I could just make it as ridiculous as I wanted. So.
Brendon remembers when he first started hanging with Ryan and Spencer, the first time it was more than just a band thing, the first time they all hung out like they were actually friends. It was a lot later than Ryan and Spencer like to give the impression that it was. It's not to diss them or anything, because he knows they don't mean anything by it, but Brendon likes to stay honest with himself, and he knows that he can be a lot to handle sometimes, and it took a while before Ryan and Spencer stopped treating him like he was entertainment.
Anyway, he remembers that Brent had gone home but he stuck around and eventually the three of them ended up at Spencer's house, playing video games in his basement. Ryan started talking about the girl he was with at the time, Spencer heckling him for it, and neither of them seemed to notice when Brendon stopped chiming in and instead focused on shooting monsters on the TV screen.
"I dunno," Ryan said, "I'm thinking about breaking it off."
"What, the honeymoon's already over?" Spencer said, and Brendon laughed, because, seriously, Ryan had been writing love poetry about this girl last week. He was going to point that out, actually, but then Ryan said:
"I don't know, just, like, it's kind of boring."
"It, like," Spencer said.
Brendon cut his eyes to the side, because he could think of a lot of "its" to complete that sentence, but Ryan didn't even look embarrassed when he said, "The sex." Brendon jerked his eyes back to focus on the TV.
"Well, what do you want her to do, tie you up?" Spencer said calmly, and whoa. Okay. That was when Brendon decided he must have shifted categories, because he didn't figure he'd have these conversations around someone he thought of as a circus clown, or something.
"Whatever, like you know shit about that," Ryan said, and Spencer punched him in the arm and then said, "Oh, wait, sorry, did that turn you on?" all mock-solicitous, and then Ryan punched him back, and then Brendon won the video game.
Later, he thought about that little exchange, and he thought about how he didn't get it, couldn't agree with Ryan at all, because he couldn't imagine that it'd ever be boring, to get to touch someone and have them touch you back. People weren't exactly queueing up for him and so maybe that was the problem, but it still seemed weird to him, to be able to take it for granted. He wished he could take it for granted.
They end up having a conversation about it, much later, after they've gone through friendship and out the other side a million times over and Brendon doesn't even have to think twice about saying what he thinks about anything. He's also had sex, many times. With many people, even. It changes some things, but not everything.
He says, "I call bullshit, man."
Ryan frowns. "I don't think you can call bullshit on my legitimate feelings."
They're scrunched up tight together in the corner of the couch in the back of the bus, because Brendon sometimes thinks it's funny to sit on Ryan at random times, mostly because of the way Ryan doesn't ever even try to push him off, like it's too much trouble or something. It would be, too, because Brendon has tricks he learned at his mama's knee about how to stay exactly where he wants to be.
He slipped to one side, though, at some point over the course of the afternoon. Ryan has a bony lap.
"Legitimate feelings," Brendon says, and shoves his knee into Ryan's.
"Ow," Ryan says.
"I'm just saying," Brendon says. "I think you can get bored with people. I don't think you can get bored with sex. So." He shrugs elaborately and bobs his head. "I call bullshit."
"Oh, what, all the sex you've had has been amazing, right?"
"Well," Brendon says modestly. "I am a sex god."
"Hah, now I call bullshit," Ryan says.
"Hey, don't knock the Urie experience 'til you've tried it," Brendon says, and Ryan gets a look like he's trying to decide if Brendon is legitimately hitting on him or not. Brendon's gotten a lot of those looks over the years.
As always, Ryan dodges the bullet, this time by scrunching up his face and repeating, "The Urie experience? Wow," in tones of monotonic dismay.
"You need to hop aboard the Brendon train," Brendon says, "the Brendon Boyd boogaloo - I could continue."
"Wow," Ryan says again. "Please don't."
"I'm just saying," Brendon says. "Like, duh, of course it hasn't all been great. But if I'm bored, I think it's more a problem for the two of us, you know. I don't think it's the sex's fault."
"Thank you, Dan Savage," Ryan says.
"Welcome." They don't say anything for a moment, Ryan minutely examining the embroidered tail of his shirt that is crumpled, half of it pulled to the side under Brendon's weight. Brendon takes a breath, and then grins.
"Hey," he says. "Yo, pay attention." He taps his finger three times on Ryan's kneecap. "This is me hitting on you, okay?"
Ryan's eyes shoot up to focus on Brendon's face.
Brendon says, "I don't think you'll be bored." He squeezes Ryan's knee once, then gets up and leaves the lounge.
-
[END]
Brendon remembers when he first started hanging with Ryan and Spencer, the first time it was more than just a band thing, the first time they all hung out like they were actually friends. It was a lot later than Ryan and Spencer like to give the impression that it was. It's not to diss them or anything, because he knows they don't mean anything by it, but Brendon likes to stay honest with himself, and he knows that he can be a lot to handle sometimes, and it took a while before Ryan and Spencer stopped treating him like he was entertainment.
Anyway, he remembers that Brent had gone home but he stuck around and eventually the three of them ended up at Spencer's house, playing video games in his basement. Ryan started talking about the girl he was with at the time, Spencer heckling him for it, and neither of them seemed to notice when Brendon stopped chiming in and instead focused on shooting monsters on the TV screen.
"I dunno," Ryan said, "I'm thinking about breaking it off."
"What, the honeymoon's already over?" Spencer said, and Brendon laughed, because, seriously, Ryan had been writing love poetry about this girl last week. He was going to point that out, actually, but then Ryan said:
"I don't know, just, like, it's kind of boring."
"It, like," Spencer said.
Brendon cut his eyes to the side, because he could think of a lot of "its" to complete that sentence, but Ryan didn't even look embarrassed when he said, "The sex." Brendon jerked his eyes back to focus on the TV.
"Well, what do you want her to do, tie you up?" Spencer said calmly, and whoa. Okay. That was when Brendon decided he must have shifted categories, because he didn't figure he'd have these conversations around someone he thought of as a circus clown, or something.
"Whatever, like you know shit about that," Ryan said, and Spencer punched him in the arm and then said, "Oh, wait, sorry, did that turn you on?" all mock-solicitous, and then Ryan punched him back, and then Brendon won the video game.
Later, he thought about that little exchange, and he thought about how he didn't get it, couldn't agree with Ryan at all, because he couldn't imagine that it'd ever be boring, to get to touch someone and have them touch you back. People weren't exactly queueing up for him and so maybe that was the problem, but it still seemed weird to him, to be able to take it for granted. He wished he could take it for granted.
They end up having a conversation about it, much later, after they've gone through friendship and out the other side a million times over and Brendon doesn't even have to think twice about saying what he thinks about anything. He's also had sex, many times. With many people, even. It changes some things, but not everything.
He says, "I call bullshit, man."
Ryan frowns. "I don't think you can call bullshit on my legitimate feelings."
They're scrunched up tight together in the corner of the couch in the back of the bus, because Brendon sometimes thinks it's funny to sit on Ryan at random times, mostly because of the way Ryan doesn't ever even try to push him off, like it's too much trouble or something. It would be, too, because Brendon has tricks he learned at his mama's knee about how to stay exactly where he wants to be.
He slipped to one side, though, at some point over the course of the afternoon. Ryan has a bony lap.
"Legitimate feelings," Brendon says, and shoves his knee into Ryan's.
"Ow," Ryan says.
"I'm just saying," Brendon says. "I think you can get bored with people. I don't think you can get bored with sex. So." He shrugs elaborately and bobs his head. "I call bullshit."
"Oh, what, all the sex you've had has been amazing, right?"
"Well," Brendon says modestly. "I am a sex god."
"Hah, now I call bullshit," Ryan says.
"Hey, don't knock the Urie experience 'til you've tried it," Brendon says, and Ryan gets a look like he's trying to decide if Brendon is legitimately hitting on him or not. Brendon's gotten a lot of those looks over the years.
As always, Ryan dodges the bullet, this time by scrunching up his face and repeating, "The Urie experience? Wow," in tones of monotonic dismay.
"You need to hop aboard the Brendon train," Brendon says, "the Brendon Boyd boogaloo - I could continue."
"Wow," Ryan says again. "Please don't."
"I'm just saying," Brendon says. "Like, duh, of course it hasn't all been great. But if I'm bored, I think it's more a problem for the two of us, you know. I don't think it's the sex's fault."
"Thank you, Dan Savage," Ryan says.
"Welcome." They don't say anything for a moment, Ryan minutely examining the embroidered tail of his shirt that is crumpled, half of it pulled to the side under Brendon's weight. Brendon takes a breath, and then grins.
"Hey," he says. "Yo, pay attention." He taps his finger three times on Ryan's kneecap. "This is me hitting on you, okay?"
Ryan's eyes shoot up to focus on Brendon's face.
Brendon says, "I don't think you'll be bored." He squeezes Ryan's knee once, then gets up and leaves the lounge.
-
[END]