the season's greetings type
Tucked here originally, because playfullips sort of said, and I'm sort of a wretch. Inspired by this.
Sooner rather than later, Brendon learns that Shia is the kind of guy who actually really likes cheesy couple activities. Strolls in the park, breakfasts in bed, sending ridiculously sappy e-cards to Brendon's inbox. Brendon says to him one day, "You're like everything Hallmark ever wanted in a consumer."
Shia pushes Brendon's hat forward on his head, momentarily blinding him as the brim blocks his view.
"Hey!" Brendon says, turning around to glare at Shia. It's obstructed at first, but his stern expression is totally in place when he fixes his hat (or, well, it's one of Shia's baseball caps, but still), except he's only met with Shia smirking at him, amused.
"They're cliches for a reason," Shia says. "It's fun because it's over the top."
"No, you just like it," Brendon says, because only people who genuinely get a kick out of it would go through the trouble of writing out a short story on a whole pad of Post-Its and stick them along the inside of Brendon's suitcase. Granted, it was a funny story, but the project itself was probably time-consuming.
"You don't?" Shia asks, tilting his head a little, thoughtful.
Brendon snorts, closing in on Shia's space and curving one arm around Shia's back. He says, "Don't put words in my mouth."
"Get off my case then," Shia says, but he doesn't push Brendon away.
They're comfortable here, standing in the middle of Shia's backyard and in no rush to do anything else. Shia takes the cap from Brendon's head and puts it on his own, Brendon idly beginning to hum a Jimmy Newman song: It's April and they say perhaps by June I'll be well so maybe soon/I will be back home with you at Washington DC. He's been thinking of stealing some of it from for his own skin, just a reminder of where they started.
"I'll give a pass this time," Brendon says to Shia, as he thinks perhaps by June again, and figures it's only a matter of time before it's Shia turn to give Brendon a hard time.
Sooner rather than later, Brendon learns that Shia is the kind of guy who actually really likes cheesy couple activities. Strolls in the park, breakfasts in bed, sending ridiculously sappy e-cards to Brendon's inbox. Brendon says to him one day, "You're like everything Hallmark ever wanted in a consumer."
Shia pushes Brendon's hat forward on his head, momentarily blinding him as the brim blocks his view.
"Hey!" Brendon says, turning around to glare at Shia. It's obstructed at first, but his stern expression is totally in place when he fixes his hat (or, well, it's one of Shia's baseball caps, but still), except he's only met with Shia smirking at him, amused.
"They're cliches for a reason," Shia says. "It's fun because it's over the top."
"No, you just like it," Brendon says, because only people who genuinely get a kick out of it would go through the trouble of writing out a short story on a whole pad of Post-Its and stick them along the inside of Brendon's suitcase. Granted, it was a funny story, but the project itself was probably time-consuming.
"You don't?" Shia asks, tilting his head a little, thoughtful.
Brendon snorts, closing in on Shia's space and curving one arm around Shia's back. He says, "Don't put words in my mouth."
"Get off my case then," Shia says, but he doesn't push Brendon away.
They're comfortable here, standing in the middle of Shia's backyard and in no rush to do anything else. Shia takes the cap from Brendon's head and puts it on his own, Brendon idly beginning to hum a Jimmy Newman song: It's April and they say perhaps by June I'll be well so maybe soon/I will be back home with you at Washington DC. He's been thinking of stealing some of it from for his own skin, just a reminder of where they started.
"I'll give a pass this time," Brendon says to Shia, as he thinks perhaps by June again, and figures it's only a matter of time before it's Shia turn to give Brendon a hard time.