Fill: Sugarcane (In the Easy Morning) 1/2redorchidsDecember 29 2010, 21:27:56 UTC
This one's by me and salire. Mainly salire, who also edited it. Big hugs to her. ♥ Merry (belated) Christmas, sweetie! *smooch*
Brendon presses his forehead to the windowpane. It’s snowing like crazy outside, and he wishes he could be out there playing in it rather than stuck inside. But he’s just gotten over a serious case of strep that had left him voiceless for several days, and Spencer has already threatened him once about going out in this type of weather and getting sick again. So, he’s stuck inside, being bored because absolutely nothing in the house could possibly be cooler than playing in the snow.
Spencer and Ryan are on the couch, Spencer’s chin resting on Ryan’s shoulder. They’re both, from the looks of it, reading the book in Ryan’s hands, Robin Hood. It’s a soft, quiet scene.
But in the world of Brendon Urie, this silence is entirely uncommon, unnecessary and, especially right now, unwanted. He’s about to sprawl across their laps and ask if the book is any good and then suggest they watch a movie instead regardless of what they say about it, when Spencer’s eyes focus on Brendon. He pats the spot on the couch next to him. “Come on, Brendon.”
Brendon doesn’t even really take the time to weigh his options, to destroy the quiet or to comply. He takes his seat on the couch, tucking himself under Spencer’s arm and sprawling his legs across their laps. Ryan begins to read the book aloud. Brendon thought he outgrew being read to about fifteen years ago. Apparently not.
Ryan’s hand moves to Brendon’s calf as he reads, stroking softly. Brendon bends his knees a little, drawing his legs back and guiding Ryan down to his feet, pushing his toes hopefully into Ryan’s palm. Ryan smiles behind the top of the book and complies, adding pressure with the tips of his fingers against the underside of Brendon’s foot. Brendon closes his eyes and cuddles closer to Spencer.
“I made some cookies,” Jon says, stepping into the living room with a large pan and red ovenmits over his hands. “They’re kind of weird shapes, but there’s a ton of chocolate in them, and they only burned a little bit, so I figured they should still be good to eat?”
“Jon Walker,” Brendon says, extending his arms out toward him. “You are the most amazing cookie-maker.” He wants to try one of Jon’s cookies, but he doesn’t want to move; Ryan sort of has magical hands. He looks at Jon hopefully, eyes big and wide. “Bring me one?”
“Lazy,” Jon teases but awkwardly picks up a cookie with his mit still on, handing it to him.
The cookie itself looks a little off somehow, appearing to be more chocolate chips than batter, but Brendon takes a big bite out of it anyway. He moans happily. “These are amazing.”
“If you want anymore, you have to come get them,” Jon says resolutely.
Brendon puts on his best pout in vain. Jon has already turned away and walked back into the kitchen.
While Brendon is busy begging, Ryan plucks the rest of his cookie right out of Brendon’s hand and pops it in his mouth. His eyes light up in surprise. “These are really good.”
“Really? Up,” Spencer says, pushing Brendon’s knee. “I want one of these supposedly amazing cookies.”
“But I’m comfy,” Brendon protests, relaxing all his muscles and making himself go limp and heavy, so it would harder for Spencer to shove him off. “Jon! Come on, bring the cookies back. Please?”
There’s a diabolical laugh from the kitchen. It actually sounds pretty scary. Jon’s been practicing.
“Up, Brendon,” Spencer repeats, shoving a little harder at Brendon’s body. He’s not putting that much effort into it, however; Brendon can tell.
“Nah-uh,” Brendon says, twisting himself around and putting both arms around Spencer’s neck. “If you want cookies, you’ll either have to convince Jon to come back here or bring me with you to the kitchen.”
Spencer gives him a dry look. “If you want to live, you will get your butt off me right now. It’s you or the cookies, and I haven’t had a cookie yet.”
“So, really, the question is,” Ryan says, the corners of his mouth pulling for a smile, though he’s trying desperately to stay solemn, “are you feeling lucky, Brendon?”
Fill: Sugarcane (In the Easy Morning) 2/3redorchidsDecember 29 2010, 21:29:26 UTC
Brendon crosses his arms stubbornly, and Spencer shrugs. “Fine. Have it your way.” Spencer pulls Brendon up by his waist and bends as he stands, catching Brendon’s hips over his shoulder and wrapping his arms securely around Brendon’s thighs.
“Holy shit,” Brendon gasps in surprise, clutching at the hem of Spencer’s sweater. “Put me down!”
“He warned you,” Ryan says nonchalantly as he gets up and heads for the kitchen himself. “Jon, do we have any milk?”
“We have Brendon’s chocolate soy milk, but I used the rest for the cookies.”
“Hey!” Brendon wriggles defiantly on Spencer’s shoulder (though definitely not enough to fall off, holy crap, he didn’t realize Spencer could even do that). “That’s mine!”
“Then stop me,” Ryan says, taking out the carton and whistling happily as he pours himself a glass. Slowly. Brendon struggles for a minute against Spencer’s hold and then gives up, body slumping.
“You guys are mean,” he says, giving Ryan and Jon the saddest look he can manage. “Eating cookies and drinking my milk and holding me hostage. Mean.”
All three of them laugh. Spencer even has the nerve to tickle the underside of Brendon’s feet while he’s at it.
“At least give me a cookie,” Brendon begs, trying and failing to reach the counter. “Please?”
Ryan and Jon look at each other with evil smirks, and Brendon has started giving up hope when he suddenly feels something poking him in the shoulder.
“Put it in your mouth,” Spencer says, twisting his arm blindly behind him, accidentally hitting Brendon in the nose with the cookie he’s holding. Brendon opens his mouth and snaps his jaw hungrily, managing to get the cookie on his second try.
“Mwahah,” he tries to say, throwing a triumphant look in Ryan and Jon’s direction. His mouth is full of chocolaty goodness and buttery crumbs, though, so it mostly comes out mrnph. Brendon still counts it as a win.
Jon laughs, and Ryan rolls his eyes and says, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
Brendon can’t decide if this is a good thing or a bad one.
Spencer gives his feet another tickle. “One can only hope he does.”
Fill: Sugarcane (In the Easy Morning) 3/3redorchidsDecember 29 2010, 21:30:06 UTC
Brendon wiggles against the tickling, begging, “Spencer, oh my god, I’m gonna fall, stop, Spencerstopstopstop.”
“That’s what she said,” Jon contributes with a lazy grin.
“Unhelpful!” Brendon snorts, wringing Spencer’s sweater tighter in his hands. He can feel his face going red with all the blood rushing to it. He pauses for a moment, then, “I think I’m going to throw up.”
Spencer’s reaction is immediate. He hastily plops Brendon down on the counter, his face a mixture of surprise, worry and horror.
“Ha!” Brendon laughs. “Works every time.” He grabs another cookie from the pan and takes a bite. “I grew up with two older brothers. You think that hasn’t happened to me before?”
“Oh, so he thinks he’s clever now,” Spencer says, setting his jaw. “Fine. I guess he won’t be needing any chocolate soy milk based hot cocoa then.”
Brendon balks. “What? Why not?”
“We wouldn’t want that big brain of yours to be adversely affected by all that extra sugar,” Ryan says casually, handing off the carton to Jon, who’s gotten down packets of cocoa powder and pouring them into mugs that Spencer has retrieved from the cabinets.
“What he said,” Jon agrees. “Especially since this is the kind with the little marshmallows.”
“This is an injustice,” Brendon fumes. “Come on, Jon. You know you love me best when I’ve had an extra dose of marshmallows.”
Jon feigns a thoughtful expression. “He does have a point.”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t give in to him, Jon,” Spencer says, placing a steadying hand on Jon’s shoulder. “It’s all for Brendon’s own good.”
Brendon grabs a mug for himself and scoots it next to the other three. “Come on, Jon. You know you want to.”
Jon looks from Brendon to Spencer and Ryan, then back again before he finally throws up his hands and opens the cabinet again. “Fine, fine.”
Brendon pumps his fist, hissing a triumphant, “Yes.”
Ryan waves him off. “We like him less clever anyway.”
“I resent that,” Brendon says without any menace in his voice, happily rocking back on his heels as he watches Jon place all four cups in the microwave. He grabs another cookie as they wait, munching happily away as Jon places them onto a plate.
When the timer goes off and everyone retrieves their respective mugs, Jon asks, “Was that Robin Hood you guys were reading? I haven’t read that since I was a kid.”
“Come on, Jon.” Brendon tugs at Jon’s sleeve, pulling him toward the living room. “If you offer him cookies, I’m sure you can bribe Ryan into reading some more for all of us.”
“Sure,” Ryan says as Spencer picks up the plate.
They all snuggle in together on the couch, Brendon happily wedged between Ryan and Spencer with his legs over Ryan’s lap, toes tucked warmly beneath Jon’s thighs. Spencer drapes a big quilt over them all, and Ryan starts from the beginning at Jon’s request.
Brendon nestles his face into Ryan’s shoulder, nibbling a cookie, and hums happily. Okay, so maybe this is a little cooler than playing in the snow.
Re: Fill: Sugarcane (In the Easy Morning) 3/3seratonationDecember 30 2010, 04:14:33 UTC
omg that is so adorable and sweet (so much sweet!) i love the idea of jon baking and ryan reading to them, and of spencer being able to putting brendon over his shoulder :D
Brendon presses his forehead to the windowpane. It’s snowing like crazy outside, and he wishes he could be out there playing in it rather than stuck inside. But he’s just gotten over a serious case of strep that had left him voiceless for several days, and Spencer has already threatened him once about going out in this type of weather and getting sick again. So, he’s stuck inside, being bored because absolutely nothing in the house could possibly be cooler than playing in the snow.
Spencer and Ryan are on the couch, Spencer’s chin resting on Ryan’s shoulder. They’re both, from the looks of it, reading the book in Ryan’s hands, Robin Hood. It’s a soft, quiet scene.
But in the world of Brendon Urie, this silence is entirely uncommon, unnecessary and, especially right now, unwanted. He’s about to sprawl across their laps and ask if the book is any good and then suggest they watch a movie instead regardless of what they say about it, when Spencer’s eyes focus on Brendon. He pats the spot on the couch next to him. “Come on, Brendon.”
Brendon doesn’t even really take the time to weigh his options, to destroy the quiet or to comply. He takes his seat on the couch, tucking himself under Spencer’s arm and sprawling his legs across their laps. Ryan begins to read the book aloud. Brendon thought he outgrew being read to about fifteen years ago. Apparently not.
Ryan’s hand moves to Brendon’s calf as he reads, stroking softly. Brendon bends his knees a little, drawing his legs back and guiding Ryan down to his feet, pushing his toes hopefully into Ryan’s palm. Ryan smiles behind the top of the book and complies, adding pressure with the tips of his fingers against the underside of Brendon’s foot. Brendon closes his eyes and cuddles closer to Spencer.
“I made some cookies,” Jon says, stepping into the living room with a large pan and red ovenmits over his hands. “They’re kind of weird shapes, but there’s a ton of chocolate in them, and they only burned a little bit, so I figured they should still be good to eat?”
“Jon Walker,” Brendon says, extending his arms out toward him. “You are the most amazing cookie-maker.” He wants to try one of Jon’s cookies, but he doesn’t want to move; Ryan sort of has magical hands. He looks at Jon hopefully, eyes big and wide. “Bring me one?”
“Lazy,” Jon teases but awkwardly picks up a cookie with his mit still on, handing it to him.
The cookie itself looks a little off somehow, appearing to be more chocolate chips than batter, but Brendon takes a big bite out of it anyway. He moans happily. “These are amazing.”
“If you want anymore, you have to come get them,” Jon says resolutely.
Brendon puts on his best pout in vain. Jon has already turned away and walked back into the kitchen.
While Brendon is busy begging, Ryan plucks the rest of his cookie right out of Brendon’s hand and pops it in his mouth. His eyes light up in surprise. “These are really good.”
“Really? Up,” Spencer says, pushing Brendon’s knee. “I want one of these supposedly amazing cookies.”
“But I’m comfy,” Brendon protests, relaxing all his muscles and making himself go limp and heavy, so it would harder for Spencer to shove him off. “Jon! Come on, bring the cookies back. Please?”
There’s a diabolical laugh from the kitchen. It actually sounds pretty scary. Jon’s been practicing.
“Up, Brendon,” Spencer repeats, shoving a little harder at Brendon’s body. He’s not putting that much effort into it, however; Brendon can tell.
“Nah-uh,” Brendon says, twisting himself around and putting both arms around Spencer’s neck. “If you want cookies, you’ll either have to convince Jon to come back here or bring me with you to the kitchen.”
Spencer gives him a dry look. “If you want to live, you will get your butt off me right now. It’s you or the cookies, and I haven’t had a cookie yet.”
“So, really, the question is,” Ryan says, the corners of his mouth pulling for a smile, though he’s trying desperately to stay solemn, “are you feeling lucky, Brendon?”
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“Holy shit,” Brendon gasps in surprise, clutching at the hem of Spencer’s sweater. “Put me down!”
“He warned you,” Ryan says nonchalantly as he gets up and heads for the kitchen himself. “Jon, do we have any milk?”
“We have Brendon’s chocolate soy milk, but I used the rest for the cookies.”
“Hey!” Brendon wriggles defiantly on Spencer’s shoulder (though definitely not enough to fall off, holy crap, he didn’t realize Spencer could even do that). “That’s mine!”
“Then stop me,” Ryan says, taking out the carton and whistling happily as he pours himself a glass. Slowly. Brendon struggles for a minute against Spencer’s hold and then gives up, body slumping.
“You guys are mean,” he says, giving Ryan and Jon the saddest look he can manage. “Eating cookies and drinking my milk and holding me hostage. Mean.”
All three of them laugh. Spencer even has the nerve to tickle the underside of Brendon’s feet while he’s at it.
“At least give me a cookie,” Brendon begs, trying and failing to reach the counter. “Please?”
Ryan and Jon look at each other with evil smirks, and Brendon has started giving up hope when he suddenly feels something poking him in the shoulder.
“Put it in your mouth,” Spencer says, twisting his arm blindly behind him, accidentally hitting Brendon in the nose with the cookie he’s holding. Brendon opens his mouth and snaps his jaw hungrily, managing to get the cookie on his second try.
“Mwahah,” he tries to say, throwing a triumphant look in Ryan and Jon’s direction. His mouth is full of chocolaty goodness and buttery crumbs, though, so it mostly comes out mrnph. Brendon still counts it as a win.
Jon laughs, and Ryan rolls his eyes and says, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
Brendon can’t decide if this is a good thing or a bad one.
Spencer gives his feet another tickle. “One can only hope he does.”
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“That’s what she said,” Jon contributes with a lazy grin.
“Unhelpful!” Brendon snorts, wringing Spencer’s sweater tighter in his hands. He can feel his face going red with all the blood rushing to it. He pauses for a moment, then, “I think I’m going to throw up.”
Spencer’s reaction is immediate. He hastily plops Brendon down on the counter, his face a mixture of surprise, worry and horror.
“Ha!” Brendon laughs. “Works every time.” He grabs another cookie from the pan and takes a bite. “I grew up with two older brothers. You think that hasn’t happened to me before?”
“Oh, so he thinks he’s clever now,” Spencer says, setting his jaw. “Fine. I guess he won’t be needing any chocolate soy milk based hot cocoa then.”
Brendon balks. “What? Why not?”
“We wouldn’t want that big brain of yours to be adversely affected by all that extra sugar,” Ryan says casually, handing off the carton to Jon, who’s gotten down packets of cocoa powder and pouring them into mugs that Spencer has retrieved from the cabinets.
“What he said,” Jon agrees. “Especially since this is the kind with the little marshmallows.”
“This is an injustice,” Brendon fumes. “Come on, Jon. You know you love me best when I’ve had an extra dose of marshmallows.”
Jon feigns a thoughtful expression. “He does have a point.”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t give in to him, Jon,” Spencer says, placing a steadying hand on Jon’s shoulder. “It’s all for Brendon’s own good.”
Brendon grabs a mug for himself and scoots it next to the other three. “Come on, Jon. You know you want to.”
Jon looks from Brendon to Spencer and Ryan, then back again before he finally throws up his hands and opens the cabinet again. “Fine, fine.”
Brendon pumps his fist, hissing a triumphant, “Yes.”
Ryan waves him off. “We like him less clever anyway.”
“I resent that,” Brendon says without any menace in his voice, happily rocking back on his heels as he watches Jon place all four cups in the microwave. He grabs another cookie as they wait, munching happily away as Jon places them onto a plate.
When the timer goes off and everyone retrieves their respective mugs, Jon asks, “Was that Robin Hood you guys were reading? I haven’t read that since I was a kid.”
“Come on, Jon.” Brendon tugs at Jon’s sleeve, pulling him toward the living room. “If you offer him cookies, I’m sure you can bribe Ryan into reading some more for all of us.”
“Sure,” Ryan says as Spencer picks up the plate.
They all snuggle in together on the couch, Brendon happily wedged between Ryan and Spencer with his legs over Ryan’s lap, toes tucked warmly beneath Jon’s thighs. Spencer drapes a big quilt over them all, and Ryan starts from the beginning at Jon’s request.
Brendon nestles his face into Ryan’s shoulder, nibbling a cookie, and hums happily. Okay, so maybe this is a little cooler than playing in the snow.
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This makes everything in the world happy and nice. *snuggles deeper under covers for reread*
(Also, this line made me go Hee hee hee hee:
There’s a diabolical laugh from the kitchen. It actually sounds pretty scary. Jon’s been practicing.)
You guys, you spoil me. But I love it. And you. &hearts
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*smooches*
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