The Relativity of Awesome || Brendon/Spencer || R || ~8,650 words
The Relativity of Awesome
Brendon/Spencer || R || ~8,650 words
Spencer's being weirdly mysterious around the Christmas season.
Notes/Warnings: Thanks to sateenmusta and hellodolly123 for the beta and wonderful help in telling me what to cut down on to make this story more progressive. This fic is ridiculous and pretty self-indulgant, as it has some reflections of my time during the Rockband Tour with samedifference_ and choclitbunny. Originally this was suppose to be for a prompt at santaatthedisco but the use of drugs was something the recipient didn't want, and I had already had the fic about 75% done.
Prompt was as follows: Brendon/Spencer, Established Relationship, Had to act like "real guys"
Warnings: Drug use and general boy fuckery
It's totally Brendon's turn.
"Dude, it's totally my turn," Brendon says, crossing his arms. He's sure that it's his turn because for the last three meet and greets, he hasn't had a chance to pick, which means that it must be his turn now.
"No, it's not," Ryan counters calmly, fingers still typing away at his Sidekick. "Besides, I'm kind of getting tired of Bob Marley."
Brendon gapes. "Tired of Bob Marley? Bro, I don't even know what to say to that."
"Actually," Spencer pipes in, his voice strangled and when Brendon looks he notices the joint between Spencer's fingers. Jon reaches over and takes it carefully, sucking a couple of hits of his own before returning it to its rightful owner. "It's my turn, and I say that Brendon can choose whatever he wants."
Brendon beams. It's kind of awesome having your boyfriend in the band. He can always trump his best friend regarding music selections.
"Whatever," Ryan grumbles bitterly. Brendon recognizes that tone, and it means Ryan's going into pissy mode any minute now.
"Aw, come on, Ross," Brendon says and bumps his shoulder against Ryan's. Ryan wavers a little and turns to give Brendon a raised eyebrow. "I promise to pick one of the mixes that has your shit on it too."
Zack walks into the room and sighs, looking tired and particularly annoyed. "I am so over this meet and greet shit," he mutters and looks around. "You guys ready?"
"Bro, I was born ready," Brendon announces, raising his arms over his head in victory.
Spencer snorts. "Right on, cowboy."
"Hey!" Brendon exclaims, pointing a finger at Spencer. "You cannot deny how amazing I am at being cool."
Spencer eyes Brendon's outfit. "If you think that wearing a Buddha shirt and a pair of jeans that are pretty much cutting all circulation off to your body is cool, then I'm glad I'm missing out." Jon and Ryan sputter in laughter and Brendon thins his eyes dramatically.
He mentally takes back the bit about how having a boyfriend in the band is awesome.
--
The thing about meet and greets is that Brendon kind of likes them. He likes that the fans are happy to see them, and he even finds it slightly entertaining whenever they get starry eyed at meeting their favorite band in the entire world. Ryan doesn't seem to enjoy it as much as Brendon does, but that's usually because Ryan would much rather be hanging out doing other Ryan things, like figuring out how to wear socks that slightly resemble the Wicked Witch of the West's sister's collection.
They go through the line pretty quickly, signing various items that the fans give them. Brendon is particularly fond of a fan's written plea for Jon to not get rid of his beard. It's comprised of several different reasons, one of which sends him into a fit of giggles. It doesn't help that being high makes him regress to being a five year old, but at least it guarantees a good time.
"Dude, can I look at this?" Brendon asks, and grabs for the homemade booklet. The fan eagerly nods, and hands it back to him. He opens it up to see the Reason Number One: It instantly turns any man into a badass. An addendum is left underneath the reason which makes Brendon chuckle even harder. He totally has to share this, because there is nothing more genius than what he just read. Brendon turns to Ryan, and points at the page, and nods eagerly, "It's like having machine guns on your face."
The girls begin to laugh even harder, and Brendon can see the tiniest smirk rise on Ryan's lips. Brendon is totally awesome at helping Ryan through what Spencer calls "his crotchety old man" time of the month. Brendon knows Ryan gets like this whenever they are near the end of the tour. To add on that, it's almost Ryan's anniversary with Keltie and neither of them can do anything because they are going to be working, and out comes a more emotional Ryan Ross.
But Brendon's an understanding guy, really.
The meet and greet runs smoothly and after the show, The Cab crawls over to their bus and a round of Rockband ensues. After a few shots of vodka and copious amounts of weed, Brendon finds himself lying on the floor, hands and legs spread out in starfish mode.
"Dude," Cash snorts, "You look really ridiculous like that."
"I'm trying to find my inner chi," Brendon announces solemnly, his eyes remaining closed. He feels a weight in the middle of his chest, something that tugs him down to the grime of the carpet but he ignores it. He's not going to let his running mind ruin his buzz. Wherever Deleon got this batch from is pretty awesome. It doesn't leave a lot of paranoia but at the same time he feels light and airy.
The bus sways a little and it makes him feel like liquid spreading across the carpet, the pricking of dirt and food stretching him further away from the original spot he was in. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Spencer standing over him, eyes bloodshot, and the slightest resemblance of a grin etched on his face.
"What time is it?" Brendon asks, his voice scratchy.
Hey.
"Hey."
"You fell asleep," Spencer explains. "I had to kick you at least three times to get you to wake up."
"Only three?" Brendon grins. He turns on his stomach, and the t-shirt rides up a little. He stretches his arms out in front of him, his feet doing little kicks. It kind of feels like he's half flying and half swimming. Brendon is sure that he looks like a complete retard, and since he is coming down from the high he doesn't feel as floaty as before.
"Come on," Spencer says, squatting down and grabbing Brendon's arm gently. "We should go to bed."
"What time is it anyway?" Brendon allows Spencer to help him up and looks around at the empty bus. "Wait, where the fuck is everyone?"
Spencer grins, and jerks his head behind him. "They're out. So that means we're alone. For a good three hours." His fingers trace over small strip of his hipbone where the shirt hasn't completely settled at the bottom yet. Brendon shudders involuntarily at the touch, and when Spencer looks at him, his eyes are deep, deep, blue.
"Three hours?" Brendon asks, breathlessly.
Spencer nods, "At least."
"We better get started then, huh?"
"I couldn't agree more."
--
"Oh my god, are you fucking serious!?" Ryan cries, his hand slapping over his face.
Brendon makes a garbled noise that sounds like a mixture of a moan and a scream, muffled but the fact that Spencer's dick is, in fact, in his mouth.
"Dude," Spencer says, and Brendon finally realizes that yeah, he's on the floor of the tour bus with his boyfriend's dick in his mouth, and there's not only just Ryan but a few other people behind him and wow, it's not like this hasn't happened before. In fact, Brendon can recall multiple times seeing Ryan and Keltie tangled up in the lounge. He's seen Keltie naked so many times, he's surprised she just doesn't walk around topless like the rest of the guys.
Of course there would need to be lots of weed involved. And maybe some Jack Daniels. And an impromptu game of strip poker.
Anyways.
Brendon pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Dude," he repeats, his voice sounding raspy and ragged. "You were suppose to be gone for like, three hours or something."
"Dude," Ryan mimics, in an overly high-pitched voice. "There are rules about sex on the tour bus, you know. You know you're suppose to put the sock out on the door."
"You were suppose to be gone for at least three hours," Brendon repeats, emphasizing the last bit. It seems that Ryan has had too many instances where he bumped his head on tour or something. He never gets used to the fact that the bunk ceilings are very low when he wakes up, and so he bumps his head at least a dozen times while on tour. It's pretty fucking amusing actually, unless you are the one that is the bunk above Ryan Ross, and then it's not so amusing anymore. Being woken up to a shudder and a scream is not what Brendon considers a nice wake up call.
"Right, and I forgot my fucking wallet and because of that I had to come back to the--" Ryan sighs, placing his thumb and index finger over the bridge of his nose. He's probably pinching it really hard and when Brendon opens his mouth to say something, Spencer places a hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry," Spencer says softly, and how did he get dressed so quickly? His pants were nearly down to his ankles. Brendon raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "You're right, we should've put a sock out on the door."
"Oh don't get patronizing with me," Ryan snaps, and walks over to grab his wallet out of the bunks. "You've already scared off everyone." Ryan stops and grins, "Besides, Brendon's reaction was pretty fucking priceless."
"Are you kidding me? I handled it like a rockstar," Brendon argues.
"You handled it like a groupie," Ryan corrects. "A small, mid-town, virginal groupie."
Brendon looks over at Spencer and blinks.
"Um," Spencer begins. "Those exist?"
Ryan's eyebrows furrow together and he looks rather annoyed now. He turns around and walks out, muttering something under his breath.
Brendon winces when the door slams shut, and when he looks over at Spencer they both snort in laughter.
"Beer?" Brendon suggests.
"Beer," Spencer agrees with a nod.
"Mario Kart?"
Spencer grins. "Mario Kart."
--
They're about to go on stage, the music is starting and everything. Brendon's fucking pumped, psyched, and so ready. The tour is almost over, they have three more dates left, and there's a sinking feeling mixed with a wave of excitement.
Spencer comes up from behind, his hand cupping the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon looks over and smiles; he sees the light flicker over Spencer's eyes and it makes Brendon's heart do that funny thing it does whenever Spencer looks at him intently. He turns his head away and waits for Ryan go first, because, really. This isn't some kind of an episode of the OC or anything.
Really.
--
Whenever a tour ends there's always a weird dynamic, getting home after being months on the road. Brendon's body constantly feels on edge and wired from the strange sleeping habits. Add that nauseous feeling that comes from being still for more than a few hours at a time, and it's almost like being tour sick or something.
This time he's glad to go home after tour.
Everyone is getting on the plane, and it's pretty awesome cause it's a private flight, which are few and far between. Brendon supposes that there are perks at being a semi-well known rockstar, and this is one of them. He's looking into the bathroom mirror, a slight detour he took just before they board. Brendon has a permanent grin on his face, but he can't really see it because it's pretty covered up.
"You, my friend, look amazing," he tells himself, pointing at the mirror accordingly. Someone exits out of the stall behind him and jumps back a bit, obviously not expecting the vision in front of them.
Brendon tries not to die laughing, because honestly? He really looks pretty badass.
When he walks out, Ryan lifts a careful eyebrow and his mouth tightens into a thin line.
"Brendon. What the fuck are you doing?"
Brendon blinks. "What?"
"Are you--" Ryan stops and presses the heel of his hand over his right eye. "Really. You're really wearing that fake mustache again?"
"Bro, it's fucking badass. It's not every day a man gets to have an awesome stash like this."
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation."
"Ross, you're just jealous you threw yours out."
"...Wait. I thought it wasn't sticky anymore because of you sweating--Brendon. Are you serious? Did you--Did you put scotch tape on the back of that thing?"
Brendon grins triumphantly. "Fuck yes I did."
--
Brendon's tired, like, really really tired. He can't sleep, however, and that's proving to be a crucial problem in the tired process. Brendon makes a mental checklist: Pillow? Check. Blanket? Check. iPod and headphones? Check and check.
Brendon snuggles to his pillow and closes his eyes. He's listening to Sigur Rós, who has always provided to be the perfect accompaniment for sleeping. In fact, he's got his favorite sleep-to-this song on, for which Brendon is grateful to his amazing iPod that understands him because, really, it does shuffle to the right song that he needs.
Sleep, right.
He tries to stop his brain from working, because they say that if you tell your brain to just shut the fuck up, it'll help you get to sleep better. So he does that. He continues his mantra of "hey, go to sleep now, go to sleep now, GO TO SLEEP NOW" but it really doesn't help. He shifts in the seat and lets out a frustrated sigh.
Spencer is sitting in the chairs across the aisle, glancing absently out of the window. His mouth is curved down, and Brendon tries to see if it's actually a frown or some kind of weird "I'm thinking about the meaning of life and I cannot get the right damn formula for it what ever will I do?" thing, cause Ryan gets those all the time, so he wonders if Spencer is having that moment too. Probably not, because Spencer is definitely more logical than Ryan is, but hey, they're on a plane and coming down from touring and who knows what people think when they have two hours ahead of them in the middle of the sky.
He turns and looks at Brendon, the curve turning upward. Brendon sees his mouth move, but the music is really loud in his ears and he pulls the bud out, lifting his eyebrows. "What was that?" Brendon asks curiously.
"I said that you look like an Inuit with the blanket wrapped around your head like that."
Brendon blinks. "A what?"
Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. "In the politically incorrect world of Brendon Urie, they are called 'eskimos'."
"Oh. Well...That's completely unfair 'cause eski--I mean Inuits don't have this kick ass stash I have going on."
Spencer ponders the argument for a moment and nods. "This is true."
Brendon smiles brightly underneath his fort of blankets, extending one hand out. A gush of cool air hits his chest and he hisses a little in surprise. "You can come over here too you know. Plenty of room."
Spencer chuckles. "Thanks but I think I rather like my side of the plane."
"Oh I see how this works, Spencer. You get your half and I get my half, no sharing in the middle?"
"Not at all," Spencer says calmly. "We have the aisle." He points at the aisle as though emphasizing it will help.
Brendon sighs. Of course Spencer would find the most logical way to actually counter his argument. "Still doesn't mean you can't come over here. I'm in desperate need of sleep, dude. I need something to coax me into a peaceful slumber."
"I'm not jerking you off," Spencer says matter-of-factly.
Brendon chokes on air. "Um, thanks?"
Spencer grins. "You're welcome."
"Asshole."
"Cocksucker."
Brendon chuckles, "Damn right."
"Dude, go to sleep, seriously," Spencer laughs and shakes his head.
Brendon closes his eyes, and falls back on the pillow, he unpauses his iPod and the music comes back on. He falls asleep almost immediately.
--
When plane lands, Spencer tries to wake Brendon up, but all he can say is "Nghhh," against the pillow.
"Wake up," Spencer says in a more serious tone. "You don't want to go to Australia do you?"
Brendon opens one eye, "Dude this plane isn't going to Australia next." He pauses for a second. "Is it?"
Spencer chuckles and nods his head. "Come on, let's go. Ryan's already left."
"Nghhh," Brendon moans and places his head back on his pillow.
--
Spencer waits with Brendon for Shane to come pick him up. They end up standing outside in a special waiting area to wait for the car ride, and Brendon looks over at Spencer and sees him typing away at his Sidekick.
"Do you need a ride home too?" Brendon asks, watching as Spencer's fingers run over the keypad with expert speed.
Spencer's head shoots up and he lifts both of his eyebrows. "Hm?" he asks and then realizes Brendon's question and shakes his head. "Nah," he clears his throat and lets the phone fall to his leg. "Um, Haley's picking me up."
Brendon lifts an eyebrow. He knows that Spencer and Haley have been broken up for months now, and honestly, Brendon adores her to death. But the breakup wasn't the happiest situation for Spencer, and Brendon recalls the nights where Spencer didn't go out with the band while they were on tour, the sullen look on his face in between shows. Brendon remembers them all too clear, and while he adores Haley to death, he tries to keep those situations separate from their friendship.
Spencer continues to look at Brendon, a grin shaping on his face. "You do know that she's my friend, right?"
Brendon nods. He knows that they're friends. Even though the break up was hard for Spencer, they had always been friends. The thing that hurt Spencer the most was that he really thought that he wanted to be with her and then found out after two years that they were better off platonically. He always says that they love each other, they're just not in love with each other.
Brendon tries not to think about it too much. What he tries to think about instead is how they finally are off of tour and the holidays are near and he can actually be home for them instead of on the road or overseas. He'll actually be in Las Vegas with Spencer, and that will be pretty awesome.
"Do you know what you're doing for Christmas?" Brendon asks carefully. They've only been officially 'together', (quote marks and all) for a couple of months, and Brendon still finds himself tip-toeing around the formalities of a relationship. He has always been epically shitty at the whole relationship thing, and so it is kind of weird actually being in one again.
Spencer shrugs dismissively, his fingers typing away again on the Sidekick. Brendon nods and doesn't push the subject any further.
--
Brendon loves his dog. In fact, he loves his dog so much that he's actually going to forget that she peed on his beautiful wooden floors when he opens the door.
"She's just excited to see you," Shane says.
"I know," Brendon emphasizes. "I just really wish that she didn't pee on my beautiful wooden floors. It only cost me a fortune."
Shane snorts. "Right, because your salary suffered so much from having them done."
Brendon thins an eye as he walks into the kitchen and grabs the paper towel, throwing the roll at Shane who catches it quickly. "For that, asshole, you can clean up her piss on your own."
Shane shrugs, and Brendon goes and grabs a couple of beers from the fridge. After Shane has officially done his duties as clean up crew, he walks into the living room and picks up the bottle, taking a long swig and settling down on the couch.
"How was the tour?" he asks conversationally while Brendon channel surfs.
Brendon shrugs. "Tiring. Awesome. Same 'ol, same 'ol."
Shane nods and takes another long drink. "Except now..." he trails off, waiving the beer in a circle in front of him, "You know."
Brendon looks over at Shane and gives a blank stare. "Um, no?"
"You and Spencer?"
"Oh. Right. That. Well, that doesn't change anything."
Shane raises an eyebrow, "You don't think so?" Brendon shakes his head. "I gotta say, of all the people in the world, I would've never thought you would be dating Spencer. He seemed so..."
"Out of my reach?"
"Straight?" Shane supplies and Brendon laughs. He shrugs his shoulder and sighs, recalling the strange situation of actually getting together with Spencer. It wasn't something that happened overnight, but Brendon always knew that he wasn't exactly the straightest person either, especially after catching him with some random stranger at a club bathroom when they first started touring.
"Well, he's not that," Brendon says with assurance.
"I know that now," Shane says with an eye roll. He pauses for a second, a grin spreading on his face. "So, like, what the fuck are you guys going to do for Christmas and shit? Your parents aren't freaking out yet, are they?"
Brendon shrugs, peeling the label off of the bottle. "Dude, I honestly think that they've kind of given up on me as a whole. I'm not Mormon, I drink, smoke, and do drugs recreationally. They kind of know about the whole 'Brendon's Booty List' from way back when, so I think that me actually being in an established relationship with someone will make the happy."
Shane snorts, "Right."
"No seriously, dude, like, I think that my Mom will be much more excited about Spencer than she was when I told her about Audrey. You should've seen the look on her face when that happened."
"Man, I would've given anything to have some kind of device to go back into time and see that shit."
Brendon grins and looks up from the bottle. "You know what time it is?"
"Um, 4:48?"
Brendon shakes his head, "No, dude, it's fucking smokin' up Mario Kart time."
Shane chuckles, "Right on, man. Right on."
"You start packing, I'm gonna change my shirt. I feel all sweaty and gross in this thing." Brendon gets up from the couch and begins walking out of the room, ripping the shirt off of his body.
"You know, you really should consider this sweating problem you have going on. I've been living with you for quite some time, and it's not dying down. It could be like, a serious medical condition or something."
Brendon flips him off.
--
Brendon doesn't see Spencer for two weeks. Normally this would not be a problem, aside from the fact that one, they literally live five minutes apart from each other and two, there's that weird title of 'boyfriend' they have given each other, and although they don't say aloud, it's still there, hanging in the ether. Either way, they have it and that usually means that they actually see each other on their time off right?
Right.
So, really, it's not that big of a deal when Brendon decides to give Spencer a call. It totally isn't because, Spencer is that significant other, and honestly, there should be some other way of calling someone that you're with aside from boyfriend because that sounds completely and totally cheesy. Brendon considers bringing this up to Spencer sometime.
The phone rings a few times, and he's sure he's going to get Spencer's voicemail. If he does get Spencer's voicemail, he's totally going to call Ryan, because Ryan is like OnStar. He knows where Spencer Smith is at all times, and really that shouldn't be of any surprise because they've known each other for most of their lives. It's kind of like a part of the best friend code of ethics or something, and so when he gets Spencer's voicemail, he hangs up and immediately calls Ryan.
When Ryan picks up, it's, as Brendon figures, accompanied with an annoyed voice. "Hello?"
"Dude, where's Spencer?"
"Um, fuck if I should know. Why are you asking me?"
"You know you're like the Spencer Smith Mapquest, you can find that fucker anywhere." He hears a giggle in the background, and a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "Dude, is that Keltie? Were you two...you know, busy?"
"Brendon, why are you so fascinated by everyone's sex life but your own?"
"Ryan Ross, you totally picked up the phone while you were in the middle of sexing. How kind and generous of you to go out of your way--"
"Oh, shut the fuck up. I wasn't in the middle of having sex, you're not that important, so don't flatter yourself."
Brendon places his hand over his chest. "That hurts me, Ross, really. On the inside.
"Brendon, I'm hanging up the phone now. I don't know where Spencer is, and now if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Goodbye."
"Love you Ry--" But Ryan hangs up before he can finish. Brendon snickers, and shakes his head. It's much too easy to get on Ryan Ross' nerves.
--
Brendon doesn't usually tell Shane about his problems because he doesn't usually have problems. But he doesn't really know who to talk to about the fact that Spencer has been ignoring him for several days, and that he's not really returning his phone calls. Ryan is too busy sexing it up with Keltie, and while the idea of actually bothering him throughout the day is very amusing and sounds particularly awesome, Brendon still wants to be able to play instruments properly for the next twenty years. He figures he could call Jon, as Jon is the master of everything amazing and wise, but Jon is busy too.
So, Shane it is.
"I think," Brendon garbles with a mouthful of Fruit Loops, "that Spencer is up to something."
"What makes you think--" Shane starts and turns more on his side, his shoulder pressing into Brendon's rib. He's playing his morning of Halo before actually doing something productive but the feeling of his bony ass shoulder slowly moving down onto his hips is not very comforting. Brendon moves away, careful of the milk that's to the brim of the bowl, and swallows.
"Dude, you're gonna make me spill my milk," he snipes.
Shane pulls away and gives Brendon a sideways glance. "Woah, someone's PMSing."
"I'm not PMSing," Brendon mumbles and looks back down into the bowl. He begins to drink some of the sweetened milk, slurping loudly because he knows that Shane hates it when he does it.
Shane sighs and pauses the game. "Why are you doing that?"
Brendon shrugs, lips quirking upwards. "Because it annoys you to the point of pausing your game."
Shane rolls his eyes and unpauses, and Brendon continues to suck louder than before, leaving small, satisfied smacks of "ah" in between. He can see Shane's eye twitch, and that's totally awesome because that means he's really pissing him off now, and he continues on, until finally Shane cannot take it anymore and pauses the game, throwing the controller on the opposite side of the couch.
"Okay, I give in. Uncle. What the fuck do you want to talk about?"
Brendon laughs, and shakes his head. "You're too easy, man."
"You're fucking slurping. You know I hate that shit, so what the fuck do you want to talk about?"
Brendon finishes the last of the bowl and places it on the coffee table. "Hey," he says when he looks around the empty living room. "Where's Dylan?"
"Dude, she's probably in the back room or lying down and being a dog. Quit trying to change the fucking subject and spill," Shane rolls his eyes. "You know I hate pulling teeth with you."
Brendon scrunches his nose and punches the side of Shane's arm. "Don't be a dickhead."
"Ow, motherfucker!" Shane cries and rubs his arm. "I'm not being a dickhead. I'm being the loving, consoling, wonderful best friend that you need in a time of need because you think your boyfriend is up to something."
Brendon grimaces. "I hate that word."
"What, boyfriend?" Shane grins wickedly. "Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend."
"Dude, seriously, stop doing that or I'm going to have to kick you in the balls."
"Woah, that's going pretty far, Urie," Shane says solemnly, grabbing between his legs to protect himself. "I mean, you're totally going to the kicking me in the balls when all I'm doing is calling this guy that you're fucking a boyfriend. Hardcore, man. I thought you cared."
Brendon laughs. "I do care. But I hate that word and you know it."
"Now you know how I feel," Shane shrugs and releases his grip. "Anyway, you wanna talk about this girly bullshit about your boy--" he stops and waves his hand dismissively, "About Spencer?"
Brendon shakes his head. "Forget it," he mutters.
"Awesome, cause I really wanted to finish this level." Shane picks up the controller and begins to play again.
--
"Okay, so something is up."
Ryan sighs and he sounds bored. "What do you mean 'something is up'?"
"I mean something is going on, and you so know what that something is," Brendon argues.
Dylan walks over and rests her head on his knees and Brendon scratches behind her ear. He sighs and closes his eyes.
"Dude, if you're seriously freaked out about something going on with Spencer, why don't you just ask him."
"I would, Ryan. If he picked up his goddamn phone."
"Brendon," Ryan says in a tone that almost sounds like the way a principal would talk to a troubled student. Brendon really hates it when Ryan gets that tone. "You do know that Spencer lives in a house, right? One that he actually bought and got an interior designer for?"
Brendon slaps his hand on his forehead. "Oh that's right, Ryan," he says in an astonished voice. "He does live in a house, with the same interior designer that we had to try to convince that you weren't gay to."
"Oh whatever," Ryan mutters, and sighs again. Brendon can almost hear him place his thumb in the middle of his forehead, and it takes everything he has not to snicker into the phone. Brendon can see the scoreboard now: Urie - One, Ross - Zero.
"It's okay, man," Brendon says reassuringly. "We just told her that you enjoyed girl clothing because it accentuates your hips better."
"Okay, okay, that's it. I'm hanging up on you again. When you call me again because you can't figure out why Spencer's not answering the door? I'm totally letting it go to voicemail."
"Aw, can't you take a joke, dude?"
"Just go to Spencer's place and bug him. Please, for the love of God."
--
After getting off the phone with Ryan, Brendon decides to do what he's told to do and go to Spencer's house. It is after all, not creepy to go to your personyouaresleepingwithbutnotcallingyourboyfriend's house. He used to visit Spencer all the time without any previous warning, so what's the difference now?
He's totally ready for this.
When Brendon pulls up to Spencer's driveway he sees that there's another car parked next to Spencer's. He pulls up, pushing away the nervous flutter inside of his stomach and walks up to the door. Naturally Brendon would just saunter inside, but something tells him to ring the doorbell.
Spencer answers the door, his eyes wide with surprise. "Oh, hey."
Brendon feels his stomach twist at the surprise on Spencer's face. "Well, hello to you too. By the way, do you mind letting me in, seeing that don't know how to actually answer your phone, I had to come over here like a creeper and see if you would answer your door. By the way? Ryan Ross is not to be reckoned with because he's totally been in a pissy mood lately, and you'd think with Keltie in town he'd be able to, you know," Brendon waves his hand in front of him and opens the screen door pushing past Spencer and walking inside.
"Brendon, I don't think--"
"You'd think he'd totally be getting laid, which is awesome cause if there's one thing I've noticed is that a sexually deprived Ryan Ross is an unhappy Ryan Ross, and we don't need that, you know?" He turns the corner to go into the living room. "Anyway, he didn't seem worried about your well-being so I knew that you had at least text messaged him, which, okay I get that you guys are like, best friends and all but really, Spencer? Don't you think--Oh."
Sitting on the couch is Haley, her hands clasped on her lap. She gives Brendon a bright, warm smile. Brendon feels something grow in his throat, because, wow, Spencer's ex-girlfriend is sitting in his living room and this is just a tad awkward.
"Um, hi," Brendon says nervously, and turns around, giving Spencer a confused "what the fuck?" face. He can see the nervous look in his eyes, and it makes his throat constrict a little more.
"Hey Brendon," Haley says cheerfully. Brendon turns back to focus on her and she waves a hand in the air. "How was the tour?"
Brendon blinks a couple of times and clears his throat. "Um, It was...good. Good." They sit in silence for a moment, Spencer walking over to the opposite side of the couch. Brendon shifts his glance between Haley and Spencer, and raises an eyebrow. "Did I miss something?"
"Oh no, no," Haley says and pulls herself off of the couch. "I was just about to leave actually." She walks over and places a hand on Spencer's shoulder, and yeah, that's usually something Haley does, that general kind affection that doesn't mean anything but a nice gesture. "I'll call you okay?" she says softly and Spencer nods.
She comes over and opens her arms for Brendon to give her a hug, and Brendon does easily. He always liked Haley; she was always nice and fun to hang around, because she actually liked doing the same things like Brendon did like playing video games and talking about movies and shit. Haley pulls back and smiles brightly at Brendon, squeezing his arm before walking out. He waits until the front door closes before he actually decides to speak again.
"So, um," Brendon begins and at the same time Spencer goes, "Listen, Brendon."
They both stand and look at each other before Spencer waves his hand in front of him. "You can go."
"What the hell is going on?" Brendon asks bluntly, deciding to get to the point.
Spencer shrugs, "Haley came over to say hi. She is allowed to do that you know."
"That's fine, man. But like, does that mean when she's over you don't know how to pick up your phone? I could've been dying, or on the side of the road or something, you know?" Brendon is totally babbling, but he doesn't care.
Spencer winces a little, confusion washing over his face. "Dude, my phone is on silent," he says. "I didn't hear you call."
"Oh."
Spencer sighs. "I'm sorry," he says softly. "I forgot. It wasn't like, I was trying to, you know,"
"No, no, I get it, it's totally cool. You know, you've got that whole 'my ex is awesomely amazing and we can be best buds' and shit and that's great, man. Really." Brendon swallows, and his throat feels scratchy and dry as he palms the back of his neck. "It's totally cool," he repeats.
"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" Spencer asks slowly, carefully.
Brendon's head shoots up. "What? Oh, no, no," he shakes his head vigorously to emphasize the point. "Well, nothing in particular, you know?"
He looks over at Spencer, and Spencer's face is completely unreadable. He has that gift, Brendon thinks to himself, that gift to be contemplating and no one can figure out what is on his mind. Ryan totally stole that from Spencer, he's sure of it because while Ryan may be older, Spencer is a fucking ninja at being unreadable. It really is a gift.
"Okay," Spencer says. He fills the distance between them, and Brendon looks up at him. Spencer's eyes hold the connection for a moment, his hand reaching up and brushing away the bangs on Brendon's forehead. "Want to stay for dinner?"
Brendon licks his lips and pulls his shoulder up into a shrug. "Sure. If you want, that is."
Spencer nods. "I do. It'll make up for me being an asshole for having my phone on silent."
"And for dealing with Ryan's bitchy attitude," Brendon adds. "Dude, did you know that he hung up on me twice?"
Spencer chuckles, "Did you ask him about his sex life?"
Spencer really is a ninja, Brendon concludes. Not only is he a master at keeping a poker face, but he's the master at reading minds.
--
The weather starts to change, and it gets colder as December rolls in. Brendon kind of likes it when it gets like this, he likes being able to bundle up and step outside and not feel like he's sweating half of his clothes off.
Brendon's sitting in his living room, watching television lazily. The band is set to go into the studio after the New Year, deciding that they need to take a break and just get refreshed before actually figuring out what they're going to do with the songs that they wrote all year while on the road. He doesn't know where Shane is, probably out with Regan, and Brendon kind of feels a stab of jealousy at that. It's not that he's really a jealous guy, cause honestly, he's not. But every time he calls Spencer or goes over to his place, Haley is there and for some odd reason it makes Brendon nervous.
He didn't bother calling Spencer tonight, because apparently he's having some shin-dig with Haley again, and Brendon's not jealous at all.
The front door lock jiggles as a key fits into it, and when Shane walks inside, he lets out a sigh. "Dude, it's fucking cold outside," he mutters, closing the door and taking off his jacket.
"Yeah, no shit," Brendon says, with a roll of his eye. "Don't forget to lock the door," he mumbles and hears the door lock click.
Shane walks over and stands in between the area of the couch and the coffee table. Brendon can see it through his peripheral, but he doesn't look because it's not really worth looking at Shane looming over him. Finally after a few more seconds, Brendon rolls his eyes and looks up at Shane.
"What?"
"Dude, you're like pouting or something."
"I'm not pouting," Brendon says emphatically. "I'm just...Trying to watch this thing on TV."
Shane sits down and makes a disgusted face. "Um...One Tree Hill? Since when do you watch One Tree Hill?"
Brendon shrugs. "Since I realized there are hot chicks in the show. This chick is hot." He points to the screen with the remote control and nods at the television.
"Oh, the Brooke girl? Yeah she is."
Brendon looks over at Shane slowly, "How do you know--"
Shane lifts a hand up. "Don't ask. Regan loves this shit."
Brendon snickers. "Tell me how many times you actually had to sit through this before you actually got some?"
"Dude, seriously? You don't even want to know. I know more about this show than I ever want to." Shane shakes his head. "And this, my friend, is a rerun."
Brendon sighs and rubs his eyes. "I think I'm going to bed." He stands up and stretches his arms over his head.
"You alright, man?" Shane asks, taking the remote that Brendon gives him.
Brendon shrugs. "Eh," he says. "I'm just tired."
He's certainly not going to get all girly about Spencer and Haley hanging out all the time, because that's totally ridiculous, and really it's not that big of a deal because they're like, best friends and all that shit. That shit that Brendon doesn't understand because he's never really been in a relationship, or, at least, any that actually ended ended amicably. He shakes his head and scrubs his hand over his face.
"Just tired," Brendon repeats softly and walks away to his bedroom.
He dicks off on the computer for a bit, and then decides that maybe getting back on a better schedule would be a good idea. It's always difficult for Brendon to get into the right stage of sleeping when he comes off of tour and usually finds himself hanging out with Spencer or Ryan. But lately they've been fairly unavailable and usually that's okay but it doesn't stop the sinking feeling in the pit of Brendon's stomach.
--
After another week of barely seeing Spencer, Brendon starts to get a bit on edge.
"What the hell is your problem?" Ryan snaps, plucking a few chords from his guitar.
"Nothing," Brendon says in an exasperated voice. Ryan has been asking him all morning what the problem was. The problem is, and Ryan obviously fails to see this, is that being pestered consistently about what the fuck is the matter makes him on edge.
"Dude, if you're so worried about Spencer, just call him or something."
Brendon gapes. "That's not--" he beings, but when Ryan looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, he stops. Brendon sighs and lays the guitar down. "It's not that big of a deal."
"Obviously whatever it is that's bothering you, is really fucking with you because you're not focusing like you should."
"Dude, I thought that by taking a break that mean that we, you know, not worry about the songs and shit?"
Ryan shrugs, "It is. But I had this idea and I wanted to talk to you about it, and Spencer didn't pick up his phone--"
"Ah-ha!" Brendon exclaims, pointing his finger at Ryan. "See? He's ignoring you too."
Ryan gives Brendon an annoyed glare. "But then I realized that he was actually doing something with his family today. That's why he didn't pick up."
"He's always doing something," Brendon mutters. He crosses his arms across his chest, and he knows that he probably looks a little ridiculous but whatever, this is completely and totally unfair.
"Look," Ryan says in a gentler tone. "Why don't you just go over there this evening? Just--" He waves his hand around in front of him, the pick still between his fingers. "Talk."
Brendon snorts. "Talk?"
"Yeah, that's usually what people do when they have a problem."
"I don't have a problem, Ross, it's just--" Brendon stops again when Ryan gives him another glare. He sighs and nods. "Okay, maybe I do have a problem."
"Right. Stop being an asshole and just go over there this evening. Get laid, get blown I don't care but I really want to finish this fucking song cause it's driving me nuts and you're not singing it right and I'm tired of yelling at you all the time."
"Wow, Ryan, you really care. I'm so touched, so honored that you --"
Ryan raises his hand again and shakes his head. "I'm totally going to need the aid of some herbal substances before I hear more of this bullshit from you."
Brendon perks up, "Herbal substances, coming right up!"
--
It's cold outside and Brendon's fingers are freezing. The porch light illuminates a dark yellow, small moths flying around it. His finger reaches for the doorbell and he finds that his hand is shaky.
"What the fuck, man," Brendon mutters. "Get a hold of yourself."
He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly as he pushes the doorbell. The driveway isn't filled with any other cars, and Brendon is glad for that. He's glad because he really thought something would be going on when Spencer called him to come over, but fortunately nothing else is going on and there's a relief in that. Brendon pushes his hands into his jacket and moves his legs in place faster to keep the blood circulating.
When Spencer answers the door, Brendon let's out a sigh of relief, the white cloud visible in front of his face. He opens the screen door and walks inside saying, "Dude, what the fuck were you doing? I'm freezing out here."
Spencer chuckles and moves to the side to let Brendon in. "Sorry, I was busy getting something set up."
Brendon blinks, confused. "What?" he says, but lifts his hand up when Spencer opens his mouth to talk. "Look, there are some things I want to talk to you about."
"Look, Bren, I know that--"
"Spencer, what the fuck is going on between us?" Spencer gapes for a moment before closing his mouth. "I mean, like, are we...boyfriends?" Brendon grimaces at the word and shakes his head. "I don't know, that word sounds so...cheesy, but is that what we are? Like are we, exclusive? Because I thought that exclusive couples actually, you know, do things together, not avoid each other and hang out with their ex's. And don't get me wrong, I love Haley, and like I said, I know you two are all tight and shit, but really, like, this whole avoidance thing is driving me fucking crazy and--" Brendon's babbling has stopped because Spencer's lips have connected to his mouth swallowing the rest of his words. He lets out a startled sound, his eyes fluttering shut easily. When Spencer pulls back, Brendon hesitates to open his eyes. "Um?"
"You kept going and going and I didn't know any other way to stop you." Spencer shrugs, a sheepish smile on his face. "So...I kissed you."
"I'm well aware of that, Spence. But do you mind explaining what the fuck is going on?"
Spencer grabs Brendon's hand and walks him into the family room. He can see that the usual furniture isn't in there anymore, and when Spencer pulls aside, notices the black baby grand piano sitting in the middle of the room. Brendon's mouth drops at the sight, his eyes widening in surprise. Suddenly the room is very hot, and he has to take off his jacket.
"Dude," he says instead, pulling away from Spencer's grip and ripping away the jacket. "Dude. Um. Dude."
Spencer chuckles nervously. "Uh, do you...like it?"
"Since when did you decide to play piano?" Brendon asks in confusion.
"Um, never?" Spencer answers. "It's for...it's for you."
Brendon blinks and looks over at Spencer. "You bought me a fucking piano?"
"Um, yeah, I did," Spencer says, and begins to palm the nape of his neck.
"Dude. Dude. You bought me a piano. I...You bought me a piano," Brendon whispers and walks over to it.
"Uh, yes, I'm well aware that I did," Spencer says. Brendon continues to walk over, his fingertips brushing over the ebony finish. "It's actually...for Christmas."
"Wow," Brendon whispers, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I'm sorry I've been...avoiding you. It's just that Haley's friend actually works for a piano company and I was trying to figure out a way to get the damn thing and get it delivered without you noticing it and stuff. That's...That's why Ryan was over at your house the other day pretending that you weren't understanding what he wanted you to sing," he chuckles softly.
"Are you fucking serious?" Brendon laughs, and shakes his head. "Man he was being a real douche too."
"I'm sorry you had to deal with Ryan Ross and his douchey ways," Spencer says solemnly and places a hand on Brendon's shoulder. "I really hope that you're not scarred for life."
"Oh shut the fuck up," Brendon chuckles. He looks at the piano a little more and then back at Spencer. "Thank you," he whispers.
Spencer smiles, "You're welcome." He reaches out and grabs at Brendon's jacket, setting it down on a chair pushed against the wall. "Why don't you play something?"
Brendon chuckles a little and shrugs, settling down in front of the piano. His fingers slide over the slippery keys, and he straightens his back for a second considering what he wants to play. He plays a few aimless chords, the sound resonating throughout the air, and a shiver tingles down his spine. The sound is so crisp and clear, and Brendon closes his eyes to hear the notes as they echo throughout the room.
Sometimes when Brendon plays, everything around him changes and it's only about the music, only about that moment when the world slips away and everything inside of him constricts and he feels like he wants to explode. But he doesn't and he continues to play, easing that feeling away, pushing it down until it sizzles away and turns into something different, like sparks of a flame that rise inside of him. The notes come out faster, come out stronger, and Brendon's playing as though it's the first time he really gets it, that first time he realized that it was more than technique and more than rules but about those boundaries that are meant to be broken and shattered and placed back together again.
He stops, and when he looks up at Spencer again he can see his eyelids are heavy and his mouth is parted slightly. Spencer's shoulders are rising and falling rapidly and Brendon gets up from the bench, and it pushes back from the force of his stand. He walks over to Spencer, and Spencer immediately cups Brendon's face, his thumbs brushing over Brendon's cheeks.
"Wow," he breathes before leaning forward, his lips sealing against Brendon's. Brendon's eyes flutters shut, a small moan escaping from his mouth. Spencer's arms wrap around Brendon's waist, tugging him close until their bodies are flushed together, but their feet fumble and they break apart, Spencer landing against the wall hard.
"Sorry," Brendon whispers breathlessly, a smug smile inching on his face.
"Don't worry about it," Spencer grins back, his hand carding through Brendon's hair, long fingers wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him close until their mouths connect again. Brendon's more forceful this time, his tongue darting over the seam of Spencer's mouth and this time Spencer emits a groan of surprise. Brendon continues to push closer to Spencer until their thighs are in between each other, and inside Brendon's mind is screaming yesyesmore, and he agrees fully.
It's an awkward position, but Brendon adjusts until it's comfortable, or at least not as uncomfortable as before. Spencer's fingers are wrapped around his hips, tucking under his shirt and guiding Brendon into a position over his thigh as their tongues flicker against each other. It's overwhelming, but Brendon keeps going because it's just right. He pulls back in a gasp, his head resting against Spencer's chest, an uncontrolled moan filtering out.
"Good?" Spencer asked breathlessly, his lips resting on the top of Brendon's head. Brendon nods vigorously, his hips picking up the pace until he thinks he can't take it anymore. Then everything goes white behind his eyes, and he reaches out and grasps for Spencer's arms, holding tightly as he comes, his mouth growing slack as sharp gasps escape and fill the air. Spencer catches him easily when Brendon tries to pull back, his arm wrapping around his waist again and pulling him up.
Brendon's eyes are still closed, and he can feel Spencer's fingers brush his bangs back, and he let's out a happy hum. "'m all gross now," he slurs, voice raspy and lust heavy.
Spencer leans over and brushes his lips against Brendon's cheek. "That's okay, you can clean up and stay."
"You really know how to treat a man," Brendon mutters, opening his eyes and smiling lazily.
Spencer chuckles and straightens up, his arm still wrapped around Brendon's hips loosely. "Don't you think this night is over yet."
"Oooh," Brendon coos, leaning against Spencer's shoulder as they walk out of the family room. "Does this mean we're going to be sexing?"
"That's exactly what it means," Spencer says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Brendon/Spencer || R || ~8,650 words
Spencer's being weirdly mysterious around the Christmas season.
Notes/Warnings: Thanks to sateenmusta and hellodolly123 for the beta and wonderful help in telling me what to cut down on to make this story more progressive. This fic is ridiculous and pretty self-indulgant, as it has some reflections of my time during the Rockband Tour with samedifference_ and choclitbunny. Originally this was suppose to be for a prompt at santaatthedisco but the use of drugs was something the recipient didn't want, and I had already had the fic about 75% done.
Prompt was as follows: Brendon/Spencer, Established Relationship, Had to act like "real guys"
Warnings: Drug use and general boy fuckery
It's totally Brendon's turn.
"Dude, it's totally my turn," Brendon says, crossing his arms. He's sure that it's his turn because for the last three meet and greets, he hasn't had a chance to pick, which means that it must be his turn now.
"No, it's not," Ryan counters calmly, fingers still typing away at his Sidekick. "Besides, I'm kind of getting tired of Bob Marley."
Brendon gapes. "Tired of Bob Marley? Bro, I don't even know what to say to that."
"Actually," Spencer pipes in, his voice strangled and when Brendon looks he notices the joint between Spencer's fingers. Jon reaches over and takes it carefully, sucking a couple of hits of his own before returning it to its rightful owner. "It's my turn, and I say that Brendon can choose whatever he wants."
Brendon beams. It's kind of awesome having your boyfriend in the band. He can always trump his best friend regarding music selections.
"Whatever," Ryan grumbles bitterly. Brendon recognizes that tone, and it means Ryan's going into pissy mode any minute now.
"Aw, come on, Ross," Brendon says and bumps his shoulder against Ryan's. Ryan wavers a little and turns to give Brendon a raised eyebrow. "I promise to pick one of the mixes that has your shit on it too."
Zack walks into the room and sighs, looking tired and particularly annoyed. "I am so over this meet and greet shit," he mutters and looks around. "You guys ready?"
"Bro, I was born ready," Brendon announces, raising his arms over his head in victory.
Spencer snorts. "Right on, cowboy."
"Hey!" Brendon exclaims, pointing a finger at Spencer. "You cannot deny how amazing I am at being cool."
Spencer eyes Brendon's outfit. "If you think that wearing a Buddha shirt and a pair of jeans that are pretty much cutting all circulation off to your body is cool, then I'm glad I'm missing out." Jon and Ryan sputter in laughter and Brendon thins his eyes dramatically.
He mentally takes back the bit about how having a boyfriend in the band is awesome.
--
The thing about meet and greets is that Brendon kind of likes them. He likes that the fans are happy to see them, and he even finds it slightly entertaining whenever they get starry eyed at meeting their favorite band in the entire world. Ryan doesn't seem to enjoy it as much as Brendon does, but that's usually because Ryan would much rather be hanging out doing other Ryan things, like figuring out how to wear socks that slightly resemble the Wicked Witch of the West's sister's collection.
They go through the line pretty quickly, signing various items that the fans give them. Brendon is particularly fond of a fan's written plea for Jon to not get rid of his beard. It's comprised of several different reasons, one of which sends him into a fit of giggles. It doesn't help that being high makes him regress to being a five year old, but at least it guarantees a good time.
"Dude, can I look at this?" Brendon asks, and grabs for the homemade booklet. The fan eagerly nods, and hands it back to him. He opens it up to see the Reason Number One: It instantly turns any man into a badass. An addendum is left underneath the reason which makes Brendon chuckle even harder. He totally has to share this, because there is nothing more genius than what he just read. Brendon turns to Ryan, and points at the page, and nods eagerly, "It's like having machine guns on your face."
The girls begin to laugh even harder, and Brendon can see the tiniest smirk rise on Ryan's lips. Brendon is totally awesome at helping Ryan through what Spencer calls "his crotchety old man" time of the month. Brendon knows Ryan gets like this whenever they are near the end of the tour. To add on that, it's almost Ryan's anniversary with Keltie and neither of them can do anything because they are going to be working, and out comes a more emotional Ryan Ross.
But Brendon's an understanding guy, really.
The meet and greet runs smoothly and after the show, The Cab crawls over to their bus and a round of Rockband ensues. After a few shots of vodka and copious amounts of weed, Brendon finds himself lying on the floor, hands and legs spread out in starfish mode.
"Dude," Cash snorts, "You look really ridiculous like that."
"I'm trying to find my inner chi," Brendon announces solemnly, his eyes remaining closed. He feels a weight in the middle of his chest, something that tugs him down to the grime of the carpet but he ignores it. He's not going to let his running mind ruin his buzz. Wherever Deleon got this batch from is pretty awesome. It doesn't leave a lot of paranoia but at the same time he feels light and airy.
The bus sways a little and it makes him feel like liquid spreading across the carpet, the pricking of dirt and food stretching him further away from the original spot he was in. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Spencer standing over him, eyes bloodshot, and the slightest resemblance of a grin etched on his face.
"What time is it?" Brendon asks, his voice scratchy.
Hey.
"Hey."
"You fell asleep," Spencer explains. "I had to kick you at least three times to get you to wake up."
"Only three?" Brendon grins. He turns on his stomach, and the t-shirt rides up a little. He stretches his arms out in front of him, his feet doing little kicks. It kind of feels like he's half flying and half swimming. Brendon is sure that he looks like a complete retard, and since he is coming down from the high he doesn't feel as floaty as before.
"Come on," Spencer says, squatting down and grabbing Brendon's arm gently. "We should go to bed."
"What time is it anyway?" Brendon allows Spencer to help him up and looks around at the empty bus. "Wait, where the fuck is everyone?"
Spencer grins, and jerks his head behind him. "They're out. So that means we're alone. For a good three hours." His fingers trace over small strip of his hipbone where the shirt hasn't completely settled at the bottom yet. Brendon shudders involuntarily at the touch, and when Spencer looks at him, his eyes are deep, deep, blue.
"Three hours?" Brendon asks, breathlessly.
Spencer nods, "At least."
"We better get started then, huh?"
"I couldn't agree more."
--
"Oh my god, are you fucking serious!?" Ryan cries, his hand slapping over his face.
Brendon makes a garbled noise that sounds like a mixture of a moan and a scream, muffled but the fact that Spencer's dick is, in fact, in his mouth.
"Dude," Spencer says, and Brendon finally realizes that yeah, he's on the floor of the tour bus with his boyfriend's dick in his mouth, and there's not only just Ryan but a few other people behind him and wow, it's not like this hasn't happened before. In fact, Brendon can recall multiple times seeing Ryan and Keltie tangled up in the lounge. He's seen Keltie naked so many times, he's surprised she just doesn't walk around topless like the rest of the guys.
Of course there would need to be lots of weed involved. And maybe some Jack Daniels. And an impromptu game of strip poker.
Anyways.
Brendon pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Dude," he repeats, his voice sounding raspy and ragged. "You were suppose to be gone for like, three hours or something."
"Dude," Ryan mimics, in an overly high-pitched voice. "There are rules about sex on the tour bus, you know. You know you're suppose to put the sock out on the door."
"You were suppose to be gone for at least three hours," Brendon repeats, emphasizing the last bit. It seems that Ryan has had too many instances where he bumped his head on tour or something. He never gets used to the fact that the bunk ceilings are very low when he wakes up, and so he bumps his head at least a dozen times while on tour. It's pretty fucking amusing actually, unless you are the one that is the bunk above Ryan Ross, and then it's not so amusing anymore. Being woken up to a shudder and a scream is not what Brendon considers a nice wake up call.
"Right, and I forgot my fucking wallet and because of that I had to come back to the--" Ryan sighs, placing his thumb and index finger over the bridge of his nose. He's probably pinching it really hard and when Brendon opens his mouth to say something, Spencer places a hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry," Spencer says softly, and how did he get dressed so quickly? His pants were nearly down to his ankles. Brendon raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "You're right, we should've put a sock out on the door."
"Oh don't get patronizing with me," Ryan snaps, and walks over to grab his wallet out of the bunks. "You've already scared off everyone." Ryan stops and grins, "Besides, Brendon's reaction was pretty fucking priceless."
"Are you kidding me? I handled it like a rockstar," Brendon argues.
"You handled it like a groupie," Ryan corrects. "A small, mid-town, virginal groupie."
Brendon looks over at Spencer and blinks.
"Um," Spencer begins. "Those exist?"
Ryan's eyebrows furrow together and he looks rather annoyed now. He turns around and walks out, muttering something under his breath.
Brendon winces when the door slams shut, and when he looks over at Spencer they both snort in laughter.
"Beer?" Brendon suggests.
"Beer," Spencer agrees with a nod.
"Mario Kart?"
Spencer grins. "Mario Kart."
--
They're about to go on stage, the music is starting and everything. Brendon's fucking pumped, psyched, and so ready. The tour is almost over, they have three more dates left, and there's a sinking feeling mixed with a wave of excitement.
Spencer comes up from behind, his hand cupping the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon looks over and smiles; he sees the light flicker over Spencer's eyes and it makes Brendon's heart do that funny thing it does whenever Spencer looks at him intently. He turns his head away and waits for Ryan go first, because, really. This isn't some kind of an episode of the OC or anything.
Really.
--
Whenever a tour ends there's always a weird dynamic, getting home after being months on the road. Brendon's body constantly feels on edge and wired from the strange sleeping habits. Add that nauseous feeling that comes from being still for more than a few hours at a time, and it's almost like being tour sick or something.
This time he's glad to go home after tour.
Everyone is getting on the plane, and it's pretty awesome cause it's a private flight, which are few and far between. Brendon supposes that there are perks at being a semi-well known rockstar, and this is one of them. He's looking into the bathroom mirror, a slight detour he took just before they board. Brendon has a permanent grin on his face, but he can't really see it because it's pretty covered up.
"You, my friend, look amazing," he tells himself, pointing at the mirror accordingly. Someone exits out of the stall behind him and jumps back a bit, obviously not expecting the vision in front of them.
Brendon tries not to die laughing, because honestly? He really looks pretty badass.
When he walks out, Ryan lifts a careful eyebrow and his mouth tightens into a thin line.
"Brendon. What the fuck are you doing?"
Brendon blinks. "What?"
"Are you--" Ryan stops and presses the heel of his hand over his right eye. "Really. You're really wearing that fake mustache again?"
"Bro, it's fucking badass. It's not every day a man gets to have an awesome stash like this."
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation."
"Ross, you're just jealous you threw yours out."
"...Wait. I thought it wasn't sticky anymore because of you sweating--Brendon. Are you serious? Did you--Did you put scotch tape on the back of that thing?"
Brendon grins triumphantly. "Fuck yes I did."
--
Brendon's tired, like, really really tired. He can't sleep, however, and that's proving to be a crucial problem in the tired process. Brendon makes a mental checklist: Pillow? Check. Blanket? Check. iPod and headphones? Check and check.
Brendon snuggles to his pillow and closes his eyes. He's listening to Sigur Rós, who has always provided to be the perfect accompaniment for sleeping. In fact, he's got his favorite sleep-to-this song on, for which Brendon is grateful to his amazing iPod that understands him because, really, it does shuffle to the right song that he needs.
Sleep, right.
He tries to stop his brain from working, because they say that if you tell your brain to just shut the fuck up, it'll help you get to sleep better. So he does that. He continues his mantra of "hey, go to sleep now, go to sleep now, GO TO SLEEP NOW" but it really doesn't help. He shifts in the seat and lets out a frustrated sigh.
Spencer is sitting in the chairs across the aisle, glancing absently out of the window. His mouth is curved down, and Brendon tries to see if it's actually a frown or some kind of weird "I'm thinking about the meaning of life and I cannot get the right damn formula for it what ever will I do?" thing, cause Ryan gets those all the time, so he wonders if Spencer is having that moment too. Probably not, because Spencer is definitely more logical than Ryan is, but hey, they're on a plane and coming down from touring and who knows what people think when they have two hours ahead of them in the middle of the sky.
He turns and looks at Brendon, the curve turning upward. Brendon sees his mouth move, but the music is really loud in his ears and he pulls the bud out, lifting his eyebrows. "What was that?" Brendon asks curiously.
"I said that you look like an Inuit with the blanket wrapped around your head like that."
Brendon blinks. "A what?"
Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. "In the politically incorrect world of Brendon Urie, they are called 'eskimos'."
"Oh. Well...That's completely unfair 'cause eski--I mean Inuits don't have this kick ass stash I have going on."
Spencer ponders the argument for a moment and nods. "This is true."
Brendon smiles brightly underneath his fort of blankets, extending one hand out. A gush of cool air hits his chest and he hisses a little in surprise. "You can come over here too you know. Plenty of room."
Spencer chuckles. "Thanks but I think I rather like my side of the plane."
"Oh I see how this works, Spencer. You get your half and I get my half, no sharing in the middle?"
"Not at all," Spencer says calmly. "We have the aisle." He points at the aisle as though emphasizing it will help.
Brendon sighs. Of course Spencer would find the most logical way to actually counter his argument. "Still doesn't mean you can't come over here. I'm in desperate need of sleep, dude. I need something to coax me into a peaceful slumber."
"I'm not jerking you off," Spencer says matter-of-factly.
Brendon chokes on air. "Um, thanks?"
Spencer grins. "You're welcome."
"Asshole."
"Cocksucker."
Brendon chuckles, "Damn right."
"Dude, go to sleep, seriously," Spencer laughs and shakes his head.
Brendon closes his eyes, and falls back on the pillow, he unpauses his iPod and the music comes back on. He falls asleep almost immediately.
--
When plane lands, Spencer tries to wake Brendon up, but all he can say is "Nghhh," against the pillow.
"Wake up," Spencer says in a more serious tone. "You don't want to go to Australia do you?"
Brendon opens one eye, "Dude this plane isn't going to Australia next." He pauses for a second. "Is it?"
Spencer chuckles and nods his head. "Come on, let's go. Ryan's already left."
"Nghhh," Brendon moans and places his head back on his pillow.
--
Spencer waits with Brendon for Shane to come pick him up. They end up standing outside in a special waiting area to wait for the car ride, and Brendon looks over at Spencer and sees him typing away at his Sidekick.
"Do you need a ride home too?" Brendon asks, watching as Spencer's fingers run over the keypad with expert speed.
Spencer's head shoots up and he lifts both of his eyebrows. "Hm?" he asks and then realizes Brendon's question and shakes his head. "Nah," he clears his throat and lets the phone fall to his leg. "Um, Haley's picking me up."
Brendon lifts an eyebrow. He knows that Spencer and Haley have been broken up for months now, and honestly, Brendon adores her to death. But the breakup wasn't the happiest situation for Spencer, and Brendon recalls the nights where Spencer didn't go out with the band while they were on tour, the sullen look on his face in between shows. Brendon remembers them all too clear, and while he adores Haley to death, he tries to keep those situations separate from their friendship.
Spencer continues to look at Brendon, a grin shaping on his face. "You do know that she's my friend, right?"
Brendon nods. He knows that they're friends. Even though the break up was hard for Spencer, they had always been friends. The thing that hurt Spencer the most was that he really thought that he wanted to be with her and then found out after two years that they were better off platonically. He always says that they love each other, they're just not in love with each other.
Brendon tries not to think about it too much. What he tries to think about instead is how they finally are off of tour and the holidays are near and he can actually be home for them instead of on the road or overseas. He'll actually be in Las Vegas with Spencer, and that will be pretty awesome.
"Do you know what you're doing for Christmas?" Brendon asks carefully. They've only been officially 'together', (quote marks and all) for a couple of months, and Brendon still finds himself tip-toeing around the formalities of a relationship. He has always been epically shitty at the whole relationship thing, and so it is kind of weird actually being in one again.
Spencer shrugs dismissively, his fingers typing away again on the Sidekick. Brendon nods and doesn't push the subject any further.
--
Brendon loves his dog. In fact, he loves his dog so much that he's actually going to forget that she peed on his beautiful wooden floors when he opens the door.
"She's just excited to see you," Shane says.
"I know," Brendon emphasizes. "I just really wish that she didn't pee on my beautiful wooden floors. It only cost me a fortune."
Shane snorts. "Right, because your salary suffered so much from having them done."
Brendon thins an eye as he walks into the kitchen and grabs the paper towel, throwing the roll at Shane who catches it quickly. "For that, asshole, you can clean up her piss on your own."
Shane shrugs, and Brendon goes and grabs a couple of beers from the fridge. After Shane has officially done his duties as clean up crew, he walks into the living room and picks up the bottle, taking a long swig and settling down on the couch.
"How was the tour?" he asks conversationally while Brendon channel surfs.
Brendon shrugs. "Tiring. Awesome. Same 'ol, same 'ol."
Shane nods and takes another long drink. "Except now..." he trails off, waiving the beer in a circle in front of him, "You know."
Brendon looks over at Shane and gives a blank stare. "Um, no?"
"You and Spencer?"
"Oh. Right. That. Well, that doesn't change anything."
Shane raises an eyebrow, "You don't think so?" Brendon shakes his head. "I gotta say, of all the people in the world, I would've never thought you would be dating Spencer. He seemed so..."
"Out of my reach?"
"Straight?" Shane supplies and Brendon laughs. He shrugs his shoulder and sighs, recalling the strange situation of actually getting together with Spencer. It wasn't something that happened overnight, but Brendon always knew that he wasn't exactly the straightest person either, especially after catching him with some random stranger at a club bathroom when they first started touring.
"Well, he's not that," Brendon says with assurance.
"I know that now," Shane says with an eye roll. He pauses for a second, a grin spreading on his face. "So, like, what the fuck are you guys going to do for Christmas and shit? Your parents aren't freaking out yet, are they?"
Brendon shrugs, peeling the label off of the bottle. "Dude, I honestly think that they've kind of given up on me as a whole. I'm not Mormon, I drink, smoke, and do drugs recreationally. They kind of know about the whole 'Brendon's Booty List' from way back when, so I think that me actually being in an established relationship with someone will make the happy."
Shane snorts, "Right."
"No seriously, dude, like, I think that my Mom will be much more excited about Spencer than she was when I told her about Audrey. You should've seen the look on her face when that happened."
"Man, I would've given anything to have some kind of device to go back into time and see that shit."
Brendon grins and looks up from the bottle. "You know what time it is?"
"Um, 4:48?"
Brendon shakes his head, "No, dude, it's fucking smokin' up Mario Kart time."
Shane chuckles, "Right on, man. Right on."
"You start packing, I'm gonna change my shirt. I feel all sweaty and gross in this thing." Brendon gets up from the couch and begins walking out of the room, ripping the shirt off of his body.
"You know, you really should consider this sweating problem you have going on. I've been living with you for quite some time, and it's not dying down. It could be like, a serious medical condition or something."
Brendon flips him off.
--
Brendon doesn't see Spencer for two weeks. Normally this would not be a problem, aside from the fact that one, they literally live five minutes apart from each other and two, there's that weird title of 'boyfriend' they have given each other, and although they don't say aloud, it's still there, hanging in the ether. Either way, they have it and that usually means that they actually see each other on their time off right?
Right.
So, really, it's not that big of a deal when Brendon decides to give Spencer a call. It totally isn't because, Spencer is that significant other, and honestly, there should be some other way of calling someone that you're with aside from boyfriend because that sounds completely and totally cheesy. Brendon considers bringing this up to Spencer sometime.
The phone rings a few times, and he's sure he's going to get Spencer's voicemail. If he does get Spencer's voicemail, he's totally going to call Ryan, because Ryan is like OnStar. He knows where Spencer Smith is at all times, and really that shouldn't be of any surprise because they've known each other for most of their lives. It's kind of like a part of the best friend code of ethics or something, and so when he gets Spencer's voicemail, he hangs up and immediately calls Ryan.
When Ryan picks up, it's, as Brendon figures, accompanied with an annoyed voice. "Hello?"
"Dude, where's Spencer?"
"Um, fuck if I should know. Why are you asking me?"
"You know you're like the Spencer Smith Mapquest, you can find that fucker anywhere." He hears a giggle in the background, and a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "Dude, is that Keltie? Were you two...you know, busy?"
"Brendon, why are you so fascinated by everyone's sex life but your own?"
"Ryan Ross, you totally picked up the phone while you were in the middle of sexing. How kind and generous of you to go out of your way--"
"Oh, shut the fuck up. I wasn't in the middle of having sex, you're not that important, so don't flatter yourself."
Brendon places his hand over his chest. "That hurts me, Ross, really. On the inside.
"Brendon, I'm hanging up the phone now. I don't know where Spencer is, and now if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Goodbye."
"Love you Ry--" But Ryan hangs up before he can finish. Brendon snickers, and shakes his head. It's much too easy to get on Ryan Ross' nerves.
--
Brendon doesn't usually tell Shane about his problems because he doesn't usually have problems. But he doesn't really know who to talk to about the fact that Spencer has been ignoring him for several days, and that he's not really returning his phone calls. Ryan is too busy sexing it up with Keltie, and while the idea of actually bothering him throughout the day is very amusing and sounds particularly awesome, Brendon still wants to be able to play instruments properly for the next twenty years. He figures he could call Jon, as Jon is the master of everything amazing and wise, but Jon is busy too.
So, Shane it is.
"I think," Brendon garbles with a mouthful of Fruit Loops, "that Spencer is up to something."
"What makes you think--" Shane starts and turns more on his side, his shoulder pressing into Brendon's rib. He's playing his morning of Halo before actually doing something productive but the feeling of his bony ass shoulder slowly moving down onto his hips is not very comforting. Brendon moves away, careful of the milk that's to the brim of the bowl, and swallows.
"Dude, you're gonna make me spill my milk," he snipes.
Shane pulls away and gives Brendon a sideways glance. "Woah, someone's PMSing."
"I'm not PMSing," Brendon mumbles and looks back down into the bowl. He begins to drink some of the sweetened milk, slurping loudly because he knows that Shane hates it when he does it.
Shane sighs and pauses the game. "Why are you doing that?"
Brendon shrugs, lips quirking upwards. "Because it annoys you to the point of pausing your game."
Shane rolls his eyes and unpauses, and Brendon continues to suck louder than before, leaving small, satisfied smacks of "ah" in between. He can see Shane's eye twitch, and that's totally awesome because that means he's really pissing him off now, and he continues on, until finally Shane cannot take it anymore and pauses the game, throwing the controller on the opposite side of the couch.
"Okay, I give in. Uncle. What the fuck do you want to talk about?"
Brendon laughs, and shakes his head. "You're too easy, man."
"You're fucking slurping. You know I hate that shit, so what the fuck do you want to talk about?"
Brendon finishes the last of the bowl and places it on the coffee table. "Hey," he says when he looks around the empty living room. "Where's Dylan?"
"Dude, she's probably in the back room or lying down and being a dog. Quit trying to change the fucking subject and spill," Shane rolls his eyes. "You know I hate pulling teeth with you."
Brendon scrunches his nose and punches the side of Shane's arm. "Don't be a dickhead."
"Ow, motherfucker!" Shane cries and rubs his arm. "I'm not being a dickhead. I'm being the loving, consoling, wonderful best friend that you need in a time of need because you think your boyfriend is up to something."
Brendon grimaces. "I hate that word."
"What, boyfriend?" Shane grins wickedly. "Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend."
"Dude, seriously, stop doing that or I'm going to have to kick you in the balls."
"Woah, that's going pretty far, Urie," Shane says solemnly, grabbing between his legs to protect himself. "I mean, you're totally going to the kicking me in the balls when all I'm doing is calling this guy that you're fucking a boyfriend. Hardcore, man. I thought you cared."
Brendon laughs. "I do care. But I hate that word and you know it."
"Now you know how I feel," Shane shrugs and releases his grip. "Anyway, you wanna talk about this girly bullshit about your boy--" he stops and waves his hand dismissively, "About Spencer?"
Brendon shakes his head. "Forget it," he mutters.
"Awesome, cause I really wanted to finish this level." Shane picks up the controller and begins to play again.
--
"Okay, so something is up."
Ryan sighs and he sounds bored. "What do you mean 'something is up'?"
"I mean something is going on, and you so know what that something is," Brendon argues.
Dylan walks over and rests her head on his knees and Brendon scratches behind her ear. He sighs and closes his eyes.
"Dude, if you're seriously freaked out about something going on with Spencer, why don't you just ask him."
"I would, Ryan. If he picked up his goddamn phone."
"Brendon," Ryan says in a tone that almost sounds like the way a principal would talk to a troubled student. Brendon really hates it when Ryan gets that tone. "You do know that Spencer lives in a house, right? One that he actually bought and got an interior designer for?"
Brendon slaps his hand on his forehead. "Oh that's right, Ryan," he says in an astonished voice. "He does live in a house, with the same interior designer that we had to try to convince that you weren't gay to."
"Oh whatever," Ryan mutters, and sighs again. Brendon can almost hear him place his thumb in the middle of his forehead, and it takes everything he has not to snicker into the phone. Brendon can see the scoreboard now: Urie - One, Ross - Zero.
"It's okay, man," Brendon says reassuringly. "We just told her that you enjoyed girl clothing because it accentuates your hips better."
"Okay, okay, that's it. I'm hanging up on you again. When you call me again because you can't figure out why Spencer's not answering the door? I'm totally letting it go to voicemail."
"Aw, can't you take a joke, dude?"
"Just go to Spencer's place and bug him. Please, for the love of God."
--
After getting off the phone with Ryan, Brendon decides to do what he's told to do and go to Spencer's house. It is after all, not creepy to go to your personyouaresleepingwithbutnotcallingyourboyfriend's house. He used to visit Spencer all the time without any previous warning, so what's the difference now?
He's totally ready for this.
When Brendon pulls up to Spencer's driveway he sees that there's another car parked next to Spencer's. He pulls up, pushing away the nervous flutter inside of his stomach and walks up to the door. Naturally Brendon would just saunter inside, but something tells him to ring the doorbell.
Spencer answers the door, his eyes wide with surprise. "Oh, hey."
Brendon feels his stomach twist at the surprise on Spencer's face. "Well, hello to you too. By the way, do you mind letting me in, seeing that don't know how to actually answer your phone, I had to come over here like a creeper and see if you would answer your door. By the way? Ryan Ross is not to be reckoned with because he's totally been in a pissy mood lately, and you'd think with Keltie in town he'd be able to, you know," Brendon waves his hand in front of him and opens the screen door pushing past Spencer and walking inside.
"Brendon, I don't think--"
"You'd think he'd totally be getting laid, which is awesome cause if there's one thing I've noticed is that a sexually deprived Ryan Ross is an unhappy Ryan Ross, and we don't need that, you know?" He turns the corner to go into the living room. "Anyway, he didn't seem worried about your well-being so I knew that you had at least text messaged him, which, okay I get that you guys are like, best friends and all but really, Spencer? Don't you think--Oh."
Sitting on the couch is Haley, her hands clasped on her lap. She gives Brendon a bright, warm smile. Brendon feels something grow in his throat, because, wow, Spencer's ex-girlfriend is sitting in his living room and this is just a tad awkward.
"Um, hi," Brendon says nervously, and turns around, giving Spencer a confused "what the fuck?" face. He can see the nervous look in his eyes, and it makes his throat constrict a little more.
"Hey Brendon," Haley says cheerfully. Brendon turns back to focus on her and she waves a hand in the air. "How was the tour?"
Brendon blinks a couple of times and clears his throat. "Um, It was...good. Good." They sit in silence for a moment, Spencer walking over to the opposite side of the couch. Brendon shifts his glance between Haley and Spencer, and raises an eyebrow. "Did I miss something?"
"Oh no, no," Haley says and pulls herself off of the couch. "I was just about to leave actually." She walks over and places a hand on Spencer's shoulder, and yeah, that's usually something Haley does, that general kind affection that doesn't mean anything but a nice gesture. "I'll call you okay?" she says softly and Spencer nods.
She comes over and opens her arms for Brendon to give her a hug, and Brendon does easily. He always liked Haley; she was always nice and fun to hang around, because she actually liked doing the same things like Brendon did like playing video games and talking about movies and shit. Haley pulls back and smiles brightly at Brendon, squeezing his arm before walking out. He waits until the front door closes before he actually decides to speak again.
"So, um," Brendon begins and at the same time Spencer goes, "Listen, Brendon."
They both stand and look at each other before Spencer waves his hand in front of him. "You can go."
"What the hell is going on?" Brendon asks bluntly, deciding to get to the point.
Spencer shrugs, "Haley came over to say hi. She is allowed to do that you know."
"That's fine, man. But like, does that mean when she's over you don't know how to pick up your phone? I could've been dying, or on the side of the road or something, you know?" Brendon is totally babbling, but he doesn't care.
Spencer winces a little, confusion washing over his face. "Dude, my phone is on silent," he says. "I didn't hear you call."
"Oh."
Spencer sighs. "I'm sorry," he says softly. "I forgot. It wasn't like, I was trying to, you know,"
"No, no, I get it, it's totally cool. You know, you've got that whole 'my ex is awesomely amazing and we can be best buds' and shit and that's great, man. Really." Brendon swallows, and his throat feels scratchy and dry as he palms the back of his neck. "It's totally cool," he repeats.
"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" Spencer asks slowly, carefully.
Brendon's head shoots up. "What? Oh, no, no," he shakes his head vigorously to emphasize the point. "Well, nothing in particular, you know?"
He looks over at Spencer, and Spencer's face is completely unreadable. He has that gift, Brendon thinks to himself, that gift to be contemplating and no one can figure out what is on his mind. Ryan totally stole that from Spencer, he's sure of it because while Ryan may be older, Spencer is a fucking ninja at being unreadable. It really is a gift.
"Okay," Spencer says. He fills the distance between them, and Brendon looks up at him. Spencer's eyes hold the connection for a moment, his hand reaching up and brushing away the bangs on Brendon's forehead. "Want to stay for dinner?"
Brendon licks his lips and pulls his shoulder up into a shrug. "Sure. If you want, that is."
Spencer nods. "I do. It'll make up for me being an asshole for having my phone on silent."
"And for dealing with Ryan's bitchy attitude," Brendon adds. "Dude, did you know that he hung up on me twice?"
Spencer chuckles, "Did you ask him about his sex life?"
Spencer really is a ninja, Brendon concludes. Not only is he a master at keeping a poker face, but he's the master at reading minds.
--
The weather starts to change, and it gets colder as December rolls in. Brendon kind of likes it when it gets like this, he likes being able to bundle up and step outside and not feel like he's sweating half of his clothes off.
Brendon's sitting in his living room, watching television lazily. The band is set to go into the studio after the New Year, deciding that they need to take a break and just get refreshed before actually figuring out what they're going to do with the songs that they wrote all year while on the road. He doesn't know where Shane is, probably out with Regan, and Brendon kind of feels a stab of jealousy at that. It's not that he's really a jealous guy, cause honestly, he's not. But every time he calls Spencer or goes over to his place, Haley is there and for some odd reason it makes Brendon nervous.
He didn't bother calling Spencer tonight, because apparently he's having some shin-dig with Haley again, and Brendon's not jealous at all.
The front door lock jiggles as a key fits into it, and when Shane walks inside, he lets out a sigh. "Dude, it's fucking cold outside," he mutters, closing the door and taking off his jacket.
"Yeah, no shit," Brendon says, with a roll of his eye. "Don't forget to lock the door," he mumbles and hears the door lock click.
Shane walks over and stands in between the area of the couch and the coffee table. Brendon can see it through his peripheral, but he doesn't look because it's not really worth looking at Shane looming over him. Finally after a few more seconds, Brendon rolls his eyes and looks up at Shane.
"What?"
"Dude, you're like pouting or something."
"I'm not pouting," Brendon says emphatically. "I'm just...Trying to watch this thing on TV."
Shane sits down and makes a disgusted face. "Um...One Tree Hill? Since when do you watch One Tree Hill?"
Brendon shrugs. "Since I realized there are hot chicks in the show. This chick is hot." He points to the screen with the remote control and nods at the television.
"Oh, the Brooke girl? Yeah she is."
Brendon looks over at Shane slowly, "How do you know--"
Shane lifts a hand up. "Don't ask. Regan loves this shit."
Brendon snickers. "Tell me how many times you actually had to sit through this before you actually got some?"
"Dude, seriously? You don't even want to know. I know more about this show than I ever want to." Shane shakes his head. "And this, my friend, is a rerun."
Brendon sighs and rubs his eyes. "I think I'm going to bed." He stands up and stretches his arms over his head.
"You alright, man?" Shane asks, taking the remote that Brendon gives him.
Brendon shrugs. "Eh," he says. "I'm just tired."
He's certainly not going to get all girly about Spencer and Haley hanging out all the time, because that's totally ridiculous, and really it's not that big of a deal because they're like, best friends and all that shit. That shit that Brendon doesn't understand because he's never really been in a relationship, or, at least, any that actually ended ended amicably. He shakes his head and scrubs his hand over his face.
"Just tired," Brendon repeats softly and walks away to his bedroom.
He dicks off on the computer for a bit, and then decides that maybe getting back on a better schedule would be a good idea. It's always difficult for Brendon to get into the right stage of sleeping when he comes off of tour and usually finds himself hanging out with Spencer or Ryan. But lately they've been fairly unavailable and usually that's okay but it doesn't stop the sinking feeling in the pit of Brendon's stomach.
--
After another week of barely seeing Spencer, Brendon starts to get a bit on edge.
"What the hell is your problem?" Ryan snaps, plucking a few chords from his guitar.
"Nothing," Brendon says in an exasperated voice. Ryan has been asking him all morning what the problem was. The problem is, and Ryan obviously fails to see this, is that being pestered consistently about what the fuck is the matter makes him on edge.
"Dude, if you're so worried about Spencer, just call him or something."
Brendon gapes. "That's not--" he beings, but when Ryan looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, he stops. Brendon sighs and lays the guitar down. "It's not that big of a deal."
"Obviously whatever it is that's bothering you, is really fucking with you because you're not focusing like you should."
"Dude, I thought that by taking a break that mean that we, you know, not worry about the songs and shit?"
Ryan shrugs, "It is. But I had this idea and I wanted to talk to you about it, and Spencer didn't pick up his phone--"
"Ah-ha!" Brendon exclaims, pointing his finger at Ryan. "See? He's ignoring you too."
Ryan gives Brendon an annoyed glare. "But then I realized that he was actually doing something with his family today. That's why he didn't pick up."
"He's always doing something," Brendon mutters. He crosses his arms across his chest, and he knows that he probably looks a little ridiculous but whatever, this is completely and totally unfair.
"Look," Ryan says in a gentler tone. "Why don't you just go over there this evening? Just--" He waves his hand around in front of him, the pick still between his fingers. "Talk."
Brendon snorts. "Talk?"
"Yeah, that's usually what people do when they have a problem."
"I don't have a problem, Ross, it's just--" Brendon stops again when Ryan gives him another glare. He sighs and nods. "Okay, maybe I do have a problem."
"Right. Stop being an asshole and just go over there this evening. Get laid, get blown I don't care but I really want to finish this fucking song cause it's driving me nuts and you're not singing it right and I'm tired of yelling at you all the time."
"Wow, Ryan, you really care. I'm so touched, so honored that you --"
Ryan raises his hand again and shakes his head. "I'm totally going to need the aid of some herbal substances before I hear more of this bullshit from you."
Brendon perks up, "Herbal substances, coming right up!"
--
It's cold outside and Brendon's fingers are freezing. The porch light illuminates a dark yellow, small moths flying around it. His finger reaches for the doorbell and he finds that his hand is shaky.
"What the fuck, man," Brendon mutters. "Get a hold of yourself."
He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly as he pushes the doorbell. The driveway isn't filled with any other cars, and Brendon is glad for that. He's glad because he really thought something would be going on when Spencer called him to come over, but fortunately nothing else is going on and there's a relief in that. Brendon pushes his hands into his jacket and moves his legs in place faster to keep the blood circulating.
When Spencer answers the door, Brendon let's out a sigh of relief, the white cloud visible in front of his face. He opens the screen door and walks inside saying, "Dude, what the fuck were you doing? I'm freezing out here."
Spencer chuckles and moves to the side to let Brendon in. "Sorry, I was busy getting something set up."
Brendon blinks, confused. "What?" he says, but lifts his hand up when Spencer opens his mouth to talk. "Look, there are some things I want to talk to you about."
"Look, Bren, I know that--"
"Spencer, what the fuck is going on between us?" Spencer gapes for a moment before closing his mouth. "I mean, like, are we...boyfriends?" Brendon grimaces at the word and shakes his head. "I don't know, that word sounds so...cheesy, but is that what we are? Like are we, exclusive? Because I thought that exclusive couples actually, you know, do things together, not avoid each other and hang out with their ex's. And don't get me wrong, I love Haley, and like I said, I know you two are all tight and shit, but really, like, this whole avoidance thing is driving me fucking crazy and--" Brendon's babbling has stopped because Spencer's lips have connected to his mouth swallowing the rest of his words. He lets out a startled sound, his eyes fluttering shut easily. When Spencer pulls back, Brendon hesitates to open his eyes. "Um?"
"You kept going and going and I didn't know any other way to stop you." Spencer shrugs, a sheepish smile on his face. "So...I kissed you."
"I'm well aware of that, Spence. But do you mind explaining what the fuck is going on?"
Spencer grabs Brendon's hand and walks him into the family room. He can see that the usual furniture isn't in there anymore, and when Spencer pulls aside, notices the black baby grand piano sitting in the middle of the room. Brendon's mouth drops at the sight, his eyes widening in surprise. Suddenly the room is very hot, and he has to take off his jacket.
"Dude," he says instead, pulling away from Spencer's grip and ripping away the jacket. "Dude. Um. Dude."
Spencer chuckles nervously. "Uh, do you...like it?"
"Since when did you decide to play piano?" Brendon asks in confusion.
"Um, never?" Spencer answers. "It's for...it's for you."
Brendon blinks and looks over at Spencer. "You bought me a fucking piano?"
"Um, yeah, I did," Spencer says, and begins to palm the nape of his neck.
"Dude. Dude. You bought me a piano. I...You bought me a piano," Brendon whispers and walks over to it.
"Uh, yes, I'm well aware that I did," Spencer says. Brendon continues to walk over, his fingertips brushing over the ebony finish. "It's actually...for Christmas."
"Wow," Brendon whispers, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I'm sorry I've been...avoiding you. It's just that Haley's friend actually works for a piano company and I was trying to figure out a way to get the damn thing and get it delivered without you noticing it and stuff. That's...That's why Ryan was over at your house the other day pretending that you weren't understanding what he wanted you to sing," he chuckles softly.
"Are you fucking serious?" Brendon laughs, and shakes his head. "Man he was being a real douche too."
"I'm sorry you had to deal with Ryan Ross and his douchey ways," Spencer says solemnly and places a hand on Brendon's shoulder. "I really hope that you're not scarred for life."
"Oh shut the fuck up," Brendon chuckles. He looks at the piano a little more and then back at Spencer. "Thank you," he whispers.
Spencer smiles, "You're welcome." He reaches out and grabs at Brendon's jacket, setting it down on a chair pushed against the wall. "Why don't you play something?"
Brendon chuckles a little and shrugs, settling down in front of the piano. His fingers slide over the slippery keys, and he straightens his back for a second considering what he wants to play. He plays a few aimless chords, the sound resonating throughout the air, and a shiver tingles down his spine. The sound is so crisp and clear, and Brendon closes his eyes to hear the notes as they echo throughout the room.
Sometimes when Brendon plays, everything around him changes and it's only about the music, only about that moment when the world slips away and everything inside of him constricts and he feels like he wants to explode. But he doesn't and he continues to play, easing that feeling away, pushing it down until it sizzles away and turns into something different, like sparks of a flame that rise inside of him. The notes come out faster, come out stronger, and Brendon's playing as though it's the first time he really gets it, that first time he realized that it was more than technique and more than rules but about those boundaries that are meant to be broken and shattered and placed back together again.
He stops, and when he looks up at Spencer again he can see his eyelids are heavy and his mouth is parted slightly. Spencer's shoulders are rising and falling rapidly and Brendon gets up from the bench, and it pushes back from the force of his stand. He walks over to Spencer, and Spencer immediately cups Brendon's face, his thumbs brushing over Brendon's cheeks.
"Wow," he breathes before leaning forward, his lips sealing against Brendon's. Brendon's eyes flutters shut, a small moan escaping from his mouth. Spencer's arms wrap around Brendon's waist, tugging him close until their bodies are flushed together, but their feet fumble and they break apart, Spencer landing against the wall hard.
"Sorry," Brendon whispers breathlessly, a smug smile inching on his face.
"Don't worry about it," Spencer grins back, his hand carding through Brendon's hair, long fingers wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him close until their mouths connect again. Brendon's more forceful this time, his tongue darting over the seam of Spencer's mouth and this time Spencer emits a groan of surprise. Brendon continues to push closer to Spencer until their thighs are in between each other, and inside Brendon's mind is screaming yesyesmore, and he agrees fully.
It's an awkward position, but Brendon adjusts until it's comfortable, or at least not as uncomfortable as before. Spencer's fingers are wrapped around his hips, tucking under his shirt and guiding Brendon into a position over his thigh as their tongues flicker against each other. It's overwhelming, but Brendon keeps going because it's just right. He pulls back in a gasp, his head resting against Spencer's chest, an uncontrolled moan filtering out.
"Good?" Spencer asked breathlessly, his lips resting on the top of Brendon's head. Brendon nods vigorously, his hips picking up the pace until he thinks he can't take it anymore. Then everything goes white behind his eyes, and he reaches out and grasps for Spencer's arms, holding tightly as he comes, his mouth growing slack as sharp gasps escape and fill the air. Spencer catches him easily when Brendon tries to pull back, his arm wrapping around his waist again and pulling him up.
Brendon's eyes are still closed, and he can feel Spencer's fingers brush his bangs back, and he let's out a happy hum. "'m all gross now," he slurs, voice raspy and lust heavy.
Spencer leans over and brushes his lips against Brendon's cheek. "That's okay, you can clean up and stay."
"You really know how to treat a man," Brendon mutters, opening his eyes and smiling lazily.
Spencer chuckles and straightens up, his arm still wrapped around Brendon's hips loosely. "Don't you think this night is over yet."
"Oooh," Brendon coos, leaning against Spencer's shoulder as they walk out of the family room. "Does this mean we're going to be sexing?"
"That's exactly what it means," Spencer says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.