Fic: The Name of the Game (Bandom, Brendon/Jon, PG-13)
Title: The Name of the Game
Author: allyndra
Band(s): Panic at the Disco (and some The Academy Is ...)
Pairing(s): Brendon/Jon
Prompt assigned: Teen romance: Truth or Dare
Word count: 1,980 words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Brendon isn’t even the one playing Truth or Dare, and he can’t escape the game.
Disclaimer: Boy howdy, is this fake. Fictional, made up lies. Written for bandom_solstice
“Blue,” Jon said grimly. Brendon stared, but Jon wasn’t smiling his ‘You know I’m joking, but just go with it’ smile. He wasn’t smiling any smile at all, which was both weird and not okay with Brendon.
“Blue? Like how blue?” Brendon asked. “A blue glaze so it looks kind of cool when the light hits it, or a few streaks, or-“
“Turn the whole thing blue. Sky blue, robin’s egg blue, royal blue, whatever. Just make it look like a village full of Smurfs died on my head.”
Brendon pursed his lips. “Okay, I can do that. But why? That is not the face of a man who woke up this morning with a craving for blue hair.”
Jon grimaced. “This is the face of a man who was stupid enough to play Marathon Truth or Dare with Tom and Bill.”
“Jon!” Brendon made his best reproachful face. “I thought you were going to drop out of that game after the thing with the Biology Lab frogs.”
Jon wrinkled his nose and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I was going to, but then it was my turn to dare Bill, and I got him to come to school in that skirt, sooo …”
Brendon had to nod; Jon’s weakness was completely justified. Bill had been kind of awe inspiring in a pleated plaid skirt. But still. Brendon sighed and shifted his face into his best put upon expression (His entire repertoire of Disappointed Mom faces was getting such a good workout today. He’d have to practice more in front of the mirror.)
“Okay,” Brendon said. He eyed Jon’s hair critically. “You know we’re going to have to bleach it first, right?”
Jon’s hands flew up to cradle his head protectively, like he expected Brendon to jump at him any second now, brandishing hair bleach and cackling evilly. (Though to be fair, Brendon’s evil laugh was awesome and totally terrifying. If he ever became a James Bond villain, he’d be set.) “Can’t we just use Kool-Aid or something?” Jon asked plaintively. Brendon felt bad for crushing his hope.
It didn’t stop him from doing it, though. “No. Your hair’s too dark for the color to show up.” He clapped his hands briskly. “Come on. Off to the beauty supply store.” If Jon asked why he knew where the beauty supply store was, Brendon was throwing Ryan under the bus and saying his insatiable need for new eyeliner had driven them there.
Jon bit his lip uncertainly, and Brendon in no way stared at it. “Don’t worry,” he said, patting Jon on the shoulder. “I’ll do a good job. You’ll look like fucking Kurt Cobain.”
“I’m pretty sure Kurt Cobain used Kool-Aid,” Jon grumbled. “My mom’s going to kill me.”
Brendon made a sympathetic clicking noise. “I’ll buy you a blue raspberry slush afterward, and you can accessorize your tongue with your hair.”
“My tongue is not an accessory.” Jon shoved Brendon’s shoulder, but he was smiling again, so Brendon was willing to put up with his violent, violent ways.
“Well, not while it’s just tongue colored.” Shaking his head, Brendon led the way out of the house.
***
“Hide me.” Jon ducked behind Ryan, which was utterly ridiculous. There were three year olds who could provide better cover than Ryan.
Spencer casually stepped up beside Ryan, adding an extra layer of camouflage. It didn’t help much; Brendon could still see half of Jon in the gap between Ryan and Spencer’s bodies. “Why are we hiding you?” Spencer asked. He looked off into the distance, like he wasn’t talking to the person cowering behind him. Brendon had to admire Spencer’s poker face. He might not make much of a hiding place, but he’d probably be a hell of a lookout.
“Truth or Dare,” Jon said, turning sideways to try and fit more of himself behind Spencer and Ryan.
“Uh huh. But why are we hiding you?” This time Ryan was the one who asked. Like Spencer, he was awesome at looking like he didn’t give a shit.
“I dared Tom,” Jon started. Just then Mrs. Haley from the English department walked by, and Jon fell silent as they all tried to look as innocent and normal as possible. They failed pretty spectacularly. Jon was usually the best at it, but he lost points for the way he was standing completely still and trying to line up his head behind Ryan’s.
Mrs. Haley stared at them suspiciously, but she kept walking. Once she was past, Brendon said, “So a dare. But he can’t get back at you for that.” There were rules for Marathon Truth or Dare, after all. Otherwise Jon, Tom, and Bill would have gotten themselves arrested or expelled months ago.
Jon scrunched down, like if he hunched his shoulders he could disappear. “Tom’s not the one who’s going to kill me. I dared him to steal Patrick’s hat.”
Brendon, Spencer, and Ryan all blinked at the same time, as if they’d practiced it. “You’re an idiot,” Ryan said. Deadpan, like he hadn’t just heard that his friend was doomed. Patrick was little, but he was vicious.
“I was high.” Jon pouted. It would have been more effective if Brendon could have seen more of it, but the brim of Ryan’s hat blocked most of his face.
“There’s no amount of weed in the world that could have made that a good idea,” Spencer said firmly.
Jon made a ‘Psssht!’ sound. “You’re just jealous you didn’t see it.” He was right, Brendon was jealous. Seeing Patrick without a hat was rarer than seeing most people naked. In the case of, say, Pete Wentz, a lot rarer.
“Tell me you got a picture,” Brendon begged.
Jon peeked around Ryan to smile at Brendon. “I got a picture.” Brendon grinned. Score! He wondered how much the yearbook committee would pay for that. He grabbed Jon’s wrist and yanked him out from behind his human shields.
“Hey!” Jon protested. Brendon just shook a finger at him.
“You’re no good to me dead,” Brendon told him. He dragged him down the hall toward the music room, certain that Patrick would never look for Jon in his own domain. Yes, Brendon was a genius, thank you.
After a minute of being tugged along, Jon twisted his wrist so Brendon’s grip loosened on it. Brendon expected him to pull away, but he just moved his hand so his warm fingers were curling around Brendon’s.
Brendon pretended he was flushed from running.
***
Brendon was stuffing notebooks and folders into his backpack after school when Tom propped himself up against the locker next to him and gave him a big, smug smile.
“What’s up?” Brendon asked. It wasn’t like he and Tom weren’t friends, but … he and Tom really weren’t friends. They were both separately Jon’s friend, but they didn’t, like, hang out. Acquaintances, more than BFFs. So it was really fucking weird to have Tom standing there just smiling at him. It was hard to tell with the way Tom’s hair flopped over his forehead, but it looked like he was wiggling his eyebrows, too.
“I was just playing Truth or Dare with Jon,” Tom said. Like it was some kind of a secret.
Brendon zipped up his backpack and closed his locker. “You’ve been playing Truth or Dare with Jon since August,” he said. “I fail to be surprised.” He wasn’t surprised, but he was curious. “What did you dare him to do?”
Tom’s smile got even bigger, which Brendon hadn’t really thought was possible. “I didn’t dare him,” he said in a sing-song voice. “He picked Truth.”
Brendon stilled halfway through pulling his backpack up onto his shoulder. “Seriously?” Jon never picked Truth. He said it was boring, because he didn’t have any real secrets anyway.
Tom nodded, looking like the cat who got the cream. Or was it supposed to be the canary? He looked like some kind of cat, anyway, all knowing and pleased with himself. “Truth. And I would love to tell you what he said, but …” He shrugged. “Rules.”
Brendon rolled his eyes. “So you just came to gloat ambiguously in my direction?”
“Well, yeah. And also,” he glanced around conspicuously, “to tell you that you should ask Jon out sometime.”
It was a good thing Brendon had stopped moving, because he would have fallen right over. Even standing still, he felt off balance. “Huh?”
“I can’t tell you what he said, but you know. You should ask him out.” Tom’s eyes were wide and earnest. Brendon swallowed hard and possibly blushed harder than he ever had in his life. Including the time he got pantsed in the cafeteria in fifth grade. “Just think about it,” Tom said, and then he wandered off. Like it was no big deal.
Brendon walked out of the school in a daze. He didn’t walk into anyone, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t take credit for that. It was just. It was. Tom, who knew Jon better than anyone, who knew Truths about Jon, said Brendon should ask him out. And it wasn’t like Brendon had never caught himself staring too long at Jon’s arms or eyes or the curve of his back.
But Brendon wasn’t stupid. He knew that Jon would be nice about it if he found out that Brendon was interested, but nice didn’t mean it wouldn’t make things weird. If Brendon asked Jon out and Jon said no, things would definitely be weird.
But Tom said he should.
Brendon was jolted out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. “Hey!” Jon said. “Dude. I’ve been yelling at you for a block and a half. What’s up with that?”
Brendon shook his head. Jon’s hand was still on his shoulder. “I was just thinking,” he said. God, this already felt weird. He was doomed. Fucking Tom.
“What about?” Jon asked. He had the start of a smile on his lips, like he was waiting to be amused, and his eyes were crinkling at the corners. Brendon stared at him, feeling off kilter, almost dizzy with sudden possibility.
He put his hand on Jon’s arm, just to balance himself, and then he put his other hand on Jon’s other arm. Not for balance, but because he wanted to. And then he leaned forward and kissed Jon. On the mouth, right in the middle of his smile.
For a second Jon didn’t do anything, and Brendon thought Tom had set him up. Or Tom hadn’t set him up, but it still wasn’t okay to just kiss Jon in the middle of the sidewalk without asking him out first. Or maybe Jon had lied in his Truth, and Brendon was going to have to turn him in for violating the rules of Marathon Truth or Dare and then move to another state. But then Jon kissed him back.
Jon’s hand slid up from Brendon’s shoulder, over the strap of the backpack that Brendon should really put down, and up to cup the back of his neck, thumb stroking up into his hairline. Which was. Yeah, nice.
Brendon was nervous when he pulled back, freakishly more nervous than when he’d started the kiss in the first place, but Jon was smiling. He was practically beaming, and it was awesome.
“That’s … That’s what you were thinking about,” Jon asked, with a laugh in his voice.
Brendon ducked his head. “Tom,” he said. “Came by my locker and told me you took Truth.”
Jon’s brow wrinkled. “I did,” he said. Brendon grinned, big and happy, and pressed forward to kiss him again.
When they finally resumed walking, Jon took Brendon’s hand. “This is awesome,” he said. Brendon glanced over at him and nodded. “But I still don’t get what Tom knowing the location of my porn stash has to do with anything."
Author: allyndra
Band(s): Panic at the Disco (and some The Academy Is ...)
Pairing(s): Brendon/Jon
Prompt assigned: Teen romance: Truth or Dare
Word count: 1,980 words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Brendon isn’t even the one playing Truth or Dare, and he can’t escape the game.
Disclaimer: Boy howdy, is this fake. Fictional, made up lies. Written for bandom_solstice
“Blue,” Jon said grimly. Brendon stared, but Jon wasn’t smiling his ‘You know I’m joking, but just go with it’ smile. He wasn’t smiling any smile at all, which was both weird and not okay with Brendon.
“Blue? Like how blue?” Brendon asked. “A blue glaze so it looks kind of cool when the light hits it, or a few streaks, or-“
“Turn the whole thing blue. Sky blue, robin’s egg blue, royal blue, whatever. Just make it look like a village full of Smurfs died on my head.”
Brendon pursed his lips. “Okay, I can do that. But why? That is not the face of a man who woke up this morning with a craving for blue hair.”
Jon grimaced. “This is the face of a man who was stupid enough to play Marathon Truth or Dare with Tom and Bill.”
“Jon!” Brendon made his best reproachful face. “I thought you were going to drop out of that game after the thing with the Biology Lab frogs.”
Jon wrinkled his nose and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I was going to, but then it was my turn to dare Bill, and I got him to come to school in that skirt, sooo …”
Brendon had to nod; Jon’s weakness was completely justified. Bill had been kind of awe inspiring in a pleated plaid skirt. But still. Brendon sighed and shifted his face into his best put upon expression (His entire repertoire of Disappointed Mom faces was getting such a good workout today. He’d have to practice more in front of the mirror.)
“Okay,” Brendon said. He eyed Jon’s hair critically. “You know we’re going to have to bleach it first, right?”
Jon’s hands flew up to cradle his head protectively, like he expected Brendon to jump at him any second now, brandishing hair bleach and cackling evilly. (Though to be fair, Brendon’s evil laugh was awesome and totally terrifying. If he ever became a James Bond villain, he’d be set.) “Can’t we just use Kool-Aid or something?” Jon asked plaintively. Brendon felt bad for crushing his hope.
It didn’t stop him from doing it, though. “No. Your hair’s too dark for the color to show up.” He clapped his hands briskly. “Come on. Off to the beauty supply store.” If Jon asked why he knew where the beauty supply store was, Brendon was throwing Ryan under the bus and saying his insatiable need for new eyeliner had driven them there.
Jon bit his lip uncertainly, and Brendon in no way stared at it. “Don’t worry,” he said, patting Jon on the shoulder. “I’ll do a good job. You’ll look like fucking Kurt Cobain.”
“I’m pretty sure Kurt Cobain used Kool-Aid,” Jon grumbled. “My mom’s going to kill me.”
Brendon made a sympathetic clicking noise. “I’ll buy you a blue raspberry slush afterward, and you can accessorize your tongue with your hair.”
“My tongue is not an accessory.” Jon shoved Brendon’s shoulder, but he was smiling again, so Brendon was willing to put up with his violent, violent ways.
“Well, not while it’s just tongue colored.” Shaking his head, Brendon led the way out of the house.
***
“Hide me.” Jon ducked behind Ryan, which was utterly ridiculous. There were three year olds who could provide better cover than Ryan.
Spencer casually stepped up beside Ryan, adding an extra layer of camouflage. It didn’t help much; Brendon could still see half of Jon in the gap between Ryan and Spencer’s bodies. “Why are we hiding you?” Spencer asked. He looked off into the distance, like he wasn’t talking to the person cowering behind him. Brendon had to admire Spencer’s poker face. He might not make much of a hiding place, but he’d probably be a hell of a lookout.
“Truth or Dare,” Jon said, turning sideways to try and fit more of himself behind Spencer and Ryan.
“Uh huh. But why are we hiding you?” This time Ryan was the one who asked. Like Spencer, he was awesome at looking like he didn’t give a shit.
“I dared Tom,” Jon started. Just then Mrs. Haley from the English department walked by, and Jon fell silent as they all tried to look as innocent and normal as possible. They failed pretty spectacularly. Jon was usually the best at it, but he lost points for the way he was standing completely still and trying to line up his head behind Ryan’s.
Mrs. Haley stared at them suspiciously, but she kept walking. Once she was past, Brendon said, “So a dare. But he can’t get back at you for that.” There were rules for Marathon Truth or Dare, after all. Otherwise Jon, Tom, and Bill would have gotten themselves arrested or expelled months ago.
Jon scrunched down, like if he hunched his shoulders he could disappear. “Tom’s not the one who’s going to kill me. I dared him to steal Patrick’s hat.”
Brendon, Spencer, and Ryan all blinked at the same time, as if they’d practiced it. “You’re an idiot,” Ryan said. Deadpan, like he hadn’t just heard that his friend was doomed. Patrick was little, but he was vicious.
“I was high.” Jon pouted. It would have been more effective if Brendon could have seen more of it, but the brim of Ryan’s hat blocked most of his face.
“There’s no amount of weed in the world that could have made that a good idea,” Spencer said firmly.
Jon made a ‘Psssht!’ sound. “You’re just jealous you didn’t see it.” He was right, Brendon was jealous. Seeing Patrick without a hat was rarer than seeing most people naked. In the case of, say, Pete Wentz, a lot rarer.
“Tell me you got a picture,” Brendon begged.
Jon peeked around Ryan to smile at Brendon. “I got a picture.” Brendon grinned. Score! He wondered how much the yearbook committee would pay for that. He grabbed Jon’s wrist and yanked him out from behind his human shields.
“Hey!” Jon protested. Brendon just shook a finger at him.
“You’re no good to me dead,” Brendon told him. He dragged him down the hall toward the music room, certain that Patrick would never look for Jon in his own domain. Yes, Brendon was a genius, thank you.
After a minute of being tugged along, Jon twisted his wrist so Brendon’s grip loosened on it. Brendon expected him to pull away, but he just moved his hand so his warm fingers were curling around Brendon’s.
Brendon pretended he was flushed from running.
***
Brendon was stuffing notebooks and folders into his backpack after school when Tom propped himself up against the locker next to him and gave him a big, smug smile.
“What’s up?” Brendon asked. It wasn’t like he and Tom weren’t friends, but … he and Tom really weren’t friends. They were both separately Jon’s friend, but they didn’t, like, hang out. Acquaintances, more than BFFs. So it was really fucking weird to have Tom standing there just smiling at him. It was hard to tell with the way Tom’s hair flopped over his forehead, but it looked like he was wiggling his eyebrows, too.
“I was just playing Truth or Dare with Jon,” Tom said. Like it was some kind of a secret.
Brendon zipped up his backpack and closed his locker. “You’ve been playing Truth or Dare with Jon since August,” he said. “I fail to be surprised.” He wasn’t surprised, but he was curious. “What did you dare him to do?”
Tom’s smile got even bigger, which Brendon hadn’t really thought was possible. “I didn’t dare him,” he said in a sing-song voice. “He picked Truth.”
Brendon stilled halfway through pulling his backpack up onto his shoulder. “Seriously?” Jon never picked Truth. He said it was boring, because he didn’t have any real secrets anyway.
Tom nodded, looking like the cat who got the cream. Or was it supposed to be the canary? He looked like some kind of cat, anyway, all knowing and pleased with himself. “Truth. And I would love to tell you what he said, but …” He shrugged. “Rules.”
Brendon rolled his eyes. “So you just came to gloat ambiguously in my direction?”
“Well, yeah. And also,” he glanced around conspicuously, “to tell you that you should ask Jon out sometime.”
It was a good thing Brendon had stopped moving, because he would have fallen right over. Even standing still, he felt off balance. “Huh?”
“I can’t tell you what he said, but you know. You should ask him out.” Tom’s eyes were wide and earnest. Brendon swallowed hard and possibly blushed harder than he ever had in his life. Including the time he got pantsed in the cafeteria in fifth grade. “Just think about it,” Tom said, and then he wandered off. Like it was no big deal.
Brendon walked out of the school in a daze. He didn’t walk into anyone, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t take credit for that. It was just. It was. Tom, who knew Jon better than anyone, who knew Truths about Jon, said Brendon should ask him out. And it wasn’t like Brendon had never caught himself staring too long at Jon’s arms or eyes or the curve of his back.
But Brendon wasn’t stupid. He knew that Jon would be nice about it if he found out that Brendon was interested, but nice didn’t mean it wouldn’t make things weird. If Brendon asked Jon out and Jon said no, things would definitely be weird.
But Tom said he should.
Brendon was jolted out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. “Hey!” Jon said. “Dude. I’ve been yelling at you for a block and a half. What’s up with that?”
Brendon shook his head. Jon’s hand was still on his shoulder. “I was just thinking,” he said. God, this already felt weird. He was doomed. Fucking Tom.
“What about?” Jon asked. He had the start of a smile on his lips, like he was waiting to be amused, and his eyes were crinkling at the corners. Brendon stared at him, feeling off kilter, almost dizzy with sudden possibility.
He put his hand on Jon’s arm, just to balance himself, and then he put his other hand on Jon’s other arm. Not for balance, but because he wanted to. And then he leaned forward and kissed Jon. On the mouth, right in the middle of his smile.
For a second Jon didn’t do anything, and Brendon thought Tom had set him up. Or Tom hadn’t set him up, but it still wasn’t okay to just kiss Jon in the middle of the sidewalk without asking him out first. Or maybe Jon had lied in his Truth, and Brendon was going to have to turn him in for violating the rules of Marathon Truth or Dare and then move to another state. But then Jon kissed him back.
Jon’s hand slid up from Brendon’s shoulder, over the strap of the backpack that Brendon should really put down, and up to cup the back of his neck, thumb stroking up into his hairline. Which was. Yeah, nice.
Brendon was nervous when he pulled back, freakishly more nervous than when he’d started the kiss in the first place, but Jon was smiling. He was practically beaming, and it was awesome.
“That’s … That’s what you were thinking about,” Jon asked, with a laugh in his voice.
Brendon ducked his head. “Tom,” he said. “Came by my locker and told me you took Truth.”
Jon’s brow wrinkled. “I did,” he said. Brendon grinned, big and happy, and pressed forward to kiss him again.
When they finally resumed walking, Jon took Brendon’s hand. “This is awesome,” he said. Brendon glanced over at him and nodded. “But I still don’t get what Tom knowing the location of my porn stash has to do with anything."