(no subject)
Lucky Charm
written for kueble's Multifandom Snowed In Weekend Challenge, using picture number two. PG.
(this never happened; I'm not claiming to own them.)
Jon's already half-asleep when Brendon crawls into bed with him, settling into his side and his feet in between Jon's. They're freezing, because it's Brendon and his feet are always freezing but he refuses to put on socks, but Jon doesn't complain -- it's not like it would do any good, anyway -- and presses his feet in closer, instead, because he's learned from experience that that'll get Brendon's feet back to a normal temperature and then he won't feel like kicking Brendon in the shins on general principles anymore.
"You're my lead guitar," Brendon mumbles into Jon's t-shirt, and Jon blinks. That's kind of random, even for Brendon, and Jon considers the fact that maybe his ears have gone to sleep already and it's no use asking what Brendon said because he'll only hear another completely irrelevant thing.
But he does anyway, and this time Brendon has the presence of mind to lift his head up before saying "I said you're my lucky charm, Jon Walker, duh. Maybe lucky charms don't have ears. But that wouldn't make sense, because they'd have to have ears to know what was going on so they would be lucky. Or maybe they're, like, what's that word, where you --"
"Brendon," Jon says, a hand on the back of Brendon's neck. "Go to sleep, man."
"'kay." Jon listens until Brendon's breathing evens out, and then he takes his own advice.
When he wakes up the next morning Brendon says "Dude, don't move, this is Sharpie and I don't wanna fuck it up, okay?" so he doesn't, just stares at the ceiling and tries not to concentrate on the fact that whatever Brendon is doing to the skin under his bellybutton with a Sharpie tickles like crazy.
"There!" Brendon's grinning, he can tell. "All done. But don't move for a while, okay, it's gotta dry and I don't want it to smudge."
"-- dude," Jon starts, trying to sit up, "what did you do to --"
"I told you, stay still," Brendon says, pushing him back down as he moves into Jon's line of sight and raises an eyebrow. "Do you want to have a giant green mess under your bellybutton?"
Jon thinks about this for a second. "There's really no right answer to that, is there." Brendon just smirks, and Jon stays still for a count of fifteen before trying to sit up again; this time when Brendon pushes him down it's more forceful, and Jon can see gleam in his eye that's ever so slightly unnerving. "Dude, would you --"
But then Brendon covers Jon's mouth with his own, and that takes care of that for quite a while.
Later, when Jon wakes up again, he and Brendon are a mess of arms and legs and a very unfortunate sheet, and Brendon looks like he's mostly asleep so he figures it's safe to sit up and see what it was Brendon drew on him earlier.
"A -- dude, Brendon, why did you draw a four-leaf clover on me?"
Brendon cracks one eye open and grins sleepily. "Told you, man, you're my lucky charm, now come back and snuggle," he says, grabbing Jon's wrist and tugging.
Oh. "Okay," Jon says, and does.
written for kueble's Multifandom Snowed In Weekend Challenge, using picture number two. PG.
(this never happened; I'm not claiming to own them.)
Jon's already half-asleep when Brendon crawls into bed with him, settling into his side and his feet in between Jon's. They're freezing, because it's Brendon and his feet are always freezing but he refuses to put on socks, but Jon doesn't complain -- it's not like it would do any good, anyway -- and presses his feet in closer, instead, because he's learned from experience that that'll get Brendon's feet back to a normal temperature and then he won't feel like kicking Brendon in the shins on general principles anymore.
"You're my lead guitar," Brendon mumbles into Jon's t-shirt, and Jon blinks. That's kind of random, even for Brendon, and Jon considers the fact that maybe his ears have gone to sleep already and it's no use asking what Brendon said because he'll only hear another completely irrelevant thing.
But he does anyway, and this time Brendon has the presence of mind to lift his head up before saying "I said you're my lucky charm, Jon Walker, duh. Maybe lucky charms don't have ears. But that wouldn't make sense, because they'd have to have ears to know what was going on so they would be lucky. Or maybe they're, like, what's that word, where you --"
"Brendon," Jon says, a hand on the back of Brendon's neck. "Go to sleep, man."
"'kay." Jon listens until Brendon's breathing evens out, and then he takes his own advice.
When he wakes up the next morning Brendon says "Dude, don't move, this is Sharpie and I don't wanna fuck it up, okay?" so he doesn't, just stares at the ceiling and tries not to concentrate on the fact that whatever Brendon is doing to the skin under his bellybutton with a Sharpie tickles like crazy.
"There!" Brendon's grinning, he can tell. "All done. But don't move for a while, okay, it's gotta dry and I don't want it to smudge."
"-- dude," Jon starts, trying to sit up, "what did you do to --"
"I told you, stay still," Brendon says, pushing him back down as he moves into Jon's line of sight and raises an eyebrow. "Do you want to have a giant green mess under your bellybutton?"
Jon thinks about this for a second. "There's really no right answer to that, is there." Brendon just smirks, and Jon stays still for a count of fifteen before trying to sit up again; this time when Brendon pushes him down it's more forceful, and Jon can see gleam in his eye that's ever so slightly unnerving. "Dude, would you --"
But then Brendon covers Jon's mouth with his own, and that takes care of that for quite a while.
Later, when Jon wakes up again, he and Brendon are a mess of arms and legs and a very unfortunate sheet, and Brendon looks like he's mostly asleep so he figures it's safe to sit up and see what it was Brendon drew on him earlier.
"A -- dude, Brendon, why did you draw a four-leaf clover on me?"
Brendon cracks one eye open and grins sleepily. "Told you, man, you're my lucky charm, now come back and snuggle," he says, grabbing Jon's wrist and tugging.
Oh. "Okay," Jon says, and does.