Reacquaintance | Brendon/Shane | NC-17 | by maple_mahogany
Title: Reacquaintance
Pairing: Brendon/Shane
Word Count: 9700
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I really do know the difference between real life and fiction. This is the latter.
Summary: Brendon comes home. Set between the Australian tour and Rock Band Live, only hand waving away that birthday party in Las Vegas. (Along with the rest of reality.)
Warnings: Self indulgent domestic fluff (complete with dog training disagreements and taking the trash out) and is pretty close to being PWP.
A/N: My thanks to mrsquizzical and queenb23more for the beta help. Remaining errors are mine.
~
"And there he is…" Shane mutters to himself, narrating the scene as it unfolds while trying to get a picture of Brendon as he walks towards him. He's just getting through Customs but other people in the concourse keep blocking his shot. He's only using a little point-and-shoot digital because the professional camera always makes people turn and look - especially in LAX.
Brendon's wearing sunglasses and that ugly-ass shirt that Shane already has hundreds of pictures of. When he finally sees Shane, he scrunches up his face, making giant kissy lips at the camera. Not at Shane, at the camera.
Shane takes the shot anyway.
He waves at Spencer and the other guys as they duck out the nearest exit where he can see the passenger van waiting at the pick up. He'd go say hello but he thinks they're intentionally hanging back.
"Look at your face, you shaved!" is the first thing Brendon says to him, reaching out to touch his cheek, but Shane swats his hand away, giggling a little, automatically smoothing his fingers over his jaw.
"I had a meeting," he mumbles as excuse, which is a total lie. It just seemed like the thing to do while he was putting clean sheets on the bed and giving Dylan a bath that morning.
"Uh-huh," Brendon says, moving forward for a hug. Brendon's backpack falls off his shoulder, jarring him a little off-balance, but Shane squeezes him tightly, digging his fingertips into Brendon's ribs, feeling the sweep of Brendon's lips against his neck.
"Fucking world tour, huh?" Shane grumbles but then laughs it off.
"Dude, I know."
He takes Brendon's backpack automatically and slings it over his own shoulder, expecting Brendon to complain about his aching back from the flight as it is, then hooks the other bag onto the extended handle of his little rolling-suitcase. Brendon's 'thank you' is an appreciative smile and glance over the rim of his shades before he flings his arms overhead, grasping his forearms and stretching from side to side. His frayed shirt rides up, exposing his torso, and Shane's still looking at Brendon's hips when they begin walking so that Shane rams right into a woman who curses at him in something that is not English.
"Sorry, my fault. Sorry."
Brendon laughs, nudging Shane's shoulder. "Distracted much?"
"Hm," Shane grunts, knowing he's blushing, and keeps his head down.
They nearly make it out of the airport without being noticed but a woman about his age with a toddler on her hip approaches and somewhat apologetically asks for an autograph.
Shane presses his lips together and rubs the back of his hand over his mouth, suppressing a laugh at how much the band's audience has broadened, but Brendon seems unfazed by her. He's gracious during the thirty seconds of time he offers her even though his eyes show exhaustion. At least she didn't ask for a picture.
"What?" Brendon asks and then smirks when he gets it. "Bite me. - ooh sun!" He shields his eyes as they walk outside into the mid-day light.
"You gonna tell me Australia didn't have the sun?"
"It did! But it was all upside-down and wrong. This is Home Sun."
"I'll have to Wikipedia this but I'm pretty sure it's the same sun."
"Nope! You're wrong. California Sun has tacos and Dylan-puppy. And you." The last word, he says low and teasing with exaggeration before he lets go of Shane's arm.
~
"Home! Home!" Brendon sings, playing with the echo of his voice off the high ceiling. The "oh-oh-oh" vowel sound goes up the scale and eventually turns into the line of some song Shane doesn't know. "Ah, bitchin'! It's huge when it's not full of boxes!"
Shane chuckles to himself as he maneuvers Brendon's suitcase and bags through the doorway. The place had been a disaster of half unpacked boxes when Brendon had left.
He turns around to face Shane when the door is shut and the reality that they are alone sinks in with the silence. It's not novel for him but he doubts Brendon's had any privacy outside of the bathroom which is probably like reverse over-stimulation. Under-stimulation? He's talked with Brendon's mom enough times about the concept, he ought to remember.
Keeping things light and expectations low, he shuffles to the side and tosses his keys. They bounce off the wall near the door and land on the floor with a clang. "I want to get a table for right there. For keys," Shane says. "A …Key Table? I'm sure that's what they're actually called."
"Oh, totally. I think IKEA has an entire Key Table section." Brendon gives him that Very Serious nod with a smirk of sarcasm which just begs 'Get it? Get it?'.
Shane doesn't bother mentioning that they could afford a nicer Key Table than a cheap one from IKEA because Brendon is looking at him with that half smile of his; eyes all soft around the edges like he's seeing Shane for the first time today. Like they didn't just spend an hour in the car together.
"So, hi? Welcome home, huh?" Shane offers, because while he's never been nervous around Brendon like he's seen from so many others, that look on Brendon's face at him makes his guts go squidgy after so long apart.
"Come here, you," Brendon says, which is ironic because Shane doesn't move at all and Brendon comes to him.
It's less of a hug this time, just an awkward kind of gripping the back of their shirts too hard with their mouths pressed together so insistently that it's uncomfortable. After the first apprehensive moment passes, they each take a breath and their lips soften.
The tension in Brendon eases a bit, his arms relax more naturally around Shane's waist, and he tilts his head, making a little questioning noise. Shane pursues the moment, answering with an affirmative hum, teasing his tongue into Brendon's mouth, wanting to taste him a little at a time to make the reacquaintance last longer.
Brendon makes another tiny noise. It's a good one this time, a happy kind of sound in the back of his throat that's nearly a whine more than anything. Brendon's got his eyes shut, Shane knows because he peeks, which makes him grin.
"What?" Brendon asks, voice soft, when he feels Shane's mouth move into a smile.
"You're home," Shane mumbles, losing the words into Brendon's mouth, who purrs a "hmm," kissing him back again. They stand like that for a while, trading long wet kisses while Shane's hands slip under the back of Brendon's shirt. His skin is humid, warm, and Shane feels along every rib and the nub of his spine, giving him a rush of affection for the familiarity he feels under his hand.
He shifts apart just an inch to raise his hand so he can touch Brendon's face, his fingers on Brendon's jaw while his thumb pushes against his bottom lip. He watches the way Brendon lets his mouth stay soft so Shane can gently pinch his bottom lip into a bow before leaning in to suck and nip at it with his teeth. Brendon presses against Shane then, keeping his mouth pliant for Shane's kisses which become progressively dirtier and deeper, while showing his own want by rocking a firming bulge against Shane's upper thigh. Brendon doesn't stop pressing against him and if that doesn't end soon, Shane's going to get his hand inside Brendon's pants and it's all going to happen right here on the floor instead on the clean sheets he made the effort to wash.
"I, fuck …" Shane struggles stop kissing him. "I have plans for dinner and stuff."
"Dinner?” Brendon asks; his voice isn't very deep now but running a little high at the end of each word while he keeps kissing Shane's neck up near his ear. "Like, real food?"
Even first class airline food tastes like shit and Brendon must be hungry. He puts a halt to everything, squeezing Brendon's hips with both hands and pressing his cheek to Brendon's while he takes a few deep breaths. He noses through Brendon's hair to the soft skin behind his ear a few times and kisses it. "More of this. Later…"
Oxygen and music struggle for the number one position on Brendon's list of priorities, while food and fucking alternate for that precious third place. Shane's a patient man, though, and he knows that if he waits until all of those needs are met, he gets all of Brendon in the end.
"Soon-later," Brendon promises, with one last grind of his pelvis.
"Hey, so, I found a new place…" Shane starts as he walks into the kitchen for the take out menu he set aside for tonight when he sees, at a glance, Brendon flopping onto the floor.
"Dylan, baby, come see me!" Brendon pats on the floor.
Dylan skitters down the hall with her ears low. She's shy and nervous of him and skirts the perimeter to come into the kitchen and scuttle around Shane's ankles.
"Go see Brendon, he needs some love. Say hi, go on." He shoos her off as he dials the restaurant.
He doesn't pay much attention while he reads off a few different things from the menu for the two of them to share. Every time he looks in the living room, he sees Brendon rolling on the floor or trying to bait her into playing tug-of-war with one of her toys.
Just as he hangs up, Brendon sits up on his heels, finally managing to get her close enough to pet her ears and kiss her head, and then grins up at Shane.
Shane stops for a moment, leaning against the wall of the archway to watch Brendon play with her. Dylan is playing more with her toy than with Brendon but Shane is convinced that he can charm anything. He pats at the floor, teasing that he's gonna 'get' her paws and this is just the image of home that Shane's been aching for.
"Want a drink?" he asks, not really needing to ask, just making conversation.
Brendon nods and says, "yeah," without looking up, still playing and making yappy dog sounds at Dylan. Just when Shane turns towards the refrigerator he hears Dylan let out a sudden loud snarl, while Brendon simultaneously shouts.
"Ow! Fuck."
When Shane looks back into the room, Brendon is sucking on his hand while Dylan is crouching a few feet away, curling her lip up, showing her teeth in a defensive 'smile'.
"The hell was that?" Shane asks as he comes closer. Brendon's eyes are big and Dylan flutters her tail at his approach.
"My fault. Think I scared her," Brendon mumbles around the side of his hand still in his mouth. "I grabbed her feet. Shouldn't have."
"And she bit you?" Shane feels instant protective anger as he turns on Dylan. "No bite! No!"
"It was my fault," Brendon apologizes.
Shane kneels down next to Dylan, who's already rolled onto her back. With a gentle hand on her midsection, Shane looks into her eyes and growls, "No bite." She turns her head away, avoiding his eyes, and goes limp, submitting to Shane's Alpha discipline. "Bed," he orders her.
Dylan scrambles away, having peed on the carpet like she always does when she gets scared. She lies down inside her 'house', the deluxe metal pen that they used to crate-train her when she was a new puppy.
Brendon looks at Dylan with sad eyes while Shane knee-walks to Brendon and reaches for his hand. "You okay? She get you bad?"
There's a tiny puncture and small scrapes on the side of his index finger and though Brendon's already sucked on it, a drop of blood begins to pool again.
"Goddamn it," Shane grumbles, sending another scowl at Dylan and she turns her head to the wall again, refusing to look at him.
"It's okay."
"You're bleeding. It's not fucking okay."
Brendon shrugs and pulls his hand back. "She didn't mean it. …You didn't have to yell at her."
"She's not allowed to bite." Shane shifts and sits on his ass on the floor. "And I didn't yell."
Brendon slumps over so that he's sitting side by side with Shane, both watching her.
"Didn't yell…" Brendon scoffs. "Like that time Zack was fucking around with the water blaster and got your camera wet?"
Shane remembers. "Yeah - hey I didn't yell at Zack then."
"The hell you say. You were scary enough he wouldn't look you in the eye, either."
"Shaddup," Shane bumps his with his shoulder and takes Brendon's injured hand in his. "Look, we can't let her get away with that. You have to, you know …"
"What?"
"You have to …" Shane hesitates, because any which way he says this is going to sound ridiculous. "You have to show her you're the man of the house. That you're, like, top dog or whatever."
Brendon collapses into giggles, leaning onto Shane and eventually laying his head his Shane's lap.
"It's what the book said!" Shane said, failing at deadpan as he puts a hand on Brendon's head.
Brendon giggles some more before he quiets. "Top dog? Seriously? That's awesome."
"Asshole." He bends to kiss Brendon again and then they get up to get paper towels and carpet cleaner for the mess Dylan left behind.
"Okay. I’m gonna shower," Brendon says with a yawn as they wash their hands at the kitchen sink. "I love our shower."
"It's pretty nice," Shane admits.
"When you do this," Brendon extends his arms like an airplane, "you can't even touch the walls, can you?"
Shane snorts. "It's actually not that big."
"That's what she said!" Brendon beams at him and turns to leave but catches sight of Dylan in her crate and his smile falters. "Shouldn't you let her out now?"
"She's not locked in!" Shane's shout is far squeakier than he'd like, but he hates defending the way he - they - train her, like he's doing something mean. "There's not even a door, Brendon. She can come out whenever she wants to."
He gives Shane a wary look but kneels down and clucks his tongue at her. "Come here, girl! It's okay!" Dylan gets up, but instead of coming out, she just turns a circle on her bed and lays down with her back towards him.
Brendon stands up and pouts. It's an exaggerated expression meant to cover the actual hurt.
"She's just grudgy like that. It's not personal," Shane offers, but Brendon is already shuffling down the hall.
Shane listens, no longer thinking about Dylan now, he bites his lip because he's expecting -
"Holy shit, look at this place!" Brendon shouts. "You happy little homemaker, you!"
Shane smiles then and picks us his keys from the floor.
He's glad he's still in the living room because Brendon would see him blushing and get all self-conscious. Brendon is seeing their bedroom now decorated with actual curtains and bedding and coordinating towels in the bathroom. There's even a mountain of bizarrely shaped pillows in complimenting patterns on the bed, which he thinks are ridiculous because he usually pushes them onto the floor anyway. He'd sought help picking stuff out because he never would have gotten the stupid little pillows, but if Brendon doesn't hate it, he'll accept all the credit.
"I'm going for the food!" Shane shouts, but the water is already running and Brendon starts to sing "Jeremiah was a bullfrog!"
There's a place not far, which serves Californian-style Hawaiian food, and he figures it's the closest he can get to what Brendon had in Maui. When he returns with the paper bag of take out, Dylan circles around his feet, expecting to get a share of whatever it is that smells so good.
"Not on your life, little girl." He drops his sunglasses and hat on the counter with his keys before he picks her up and lets her lick his cheek. "I know, I know. I still love you, too." He knew they'd be friends again. "Where's Brendon, huh? Let's go get him."
He's just about to call out when he finds Brendon face down on the bed, bare-assed naked with one hand tucked under him. The way his body is still and sunk heavily into the comforter looks like actual sleep.
Shane puts Dylan down, absent-mindedly waving her away with a shush and kneels onto the bed next to him. He can see the shadow of Brendon's balls between his thighs and feels a warmth swell in his own. He puts a hand on Brendon's lower back, just above his ass and rubs up his spine and then down again, bending to kiss the back of his neck. The short hairs are still damp and curling around the ends. Brendon wakes enough to take a deep breath and turns his head towards Shane. He doesn't open his eyes, but he smiles welcoming the touch.
"'s goin' on?" Shane asks, his voice nearly a whisper as he shifts to lie down
next to him. "Wanna sleep off that jet-lag? I can put the food away." It's only about 4 o'clock but the sun only shines through the big window in the morning, and the soft yellow light of the afternoon makes it feel later.
"Nuh-uh," Brendon mumbles. "Wanna eat. Jus' tired." He wriggles his ass a little bit, adjusting the hand underneath him.
Shane closes his eyes and bends his head forward, feeling all the things that he doesn't say out loud, like the 'missed you' and 'love you.'
Instead, he kisses Brendon's temple, propping himself on his elbow, and slides his hand to Brendon's hip, pushing him gently until he rolls back over onto his side, eyes still shut. He rubs the back of his fingers over Brendon's stomach, then down his lower belly over the soft scruff of black curls.
He grazes along the crease of Brendon's thigh, warning him of his touch. He doesn't want to sneak attack Brendon's dick by grabbing and shocking him awake. Shane's also not quite sure that Brendon didn't just jerk off in the shower but he likes when Brendon's all sleepy and pliable like this. He wraps his hand over Brendon's where he's still cradling his own cock and squeezes.
Brendon takes a breath, making an amused sound in his chest, and moves his hand away so that Shane can hold him. "Waited for you," he says, reaching for Shane, too, slipping a hand under his shirt, and Brendon seeking out his skin is nearly as exciting as feeling Brendon harden in his hand. A few massaging pulls gets him fully erect and then he starts sliding his hand up and down over the taut skin, cupping the head in his palm.
Brendon leans his forehead into Shane, his fingers slipping just under his waistband to grab Shane's hip, anchoring himself. Shane takes a breath and starts stroking him in earnest.
"That …" Brendon gasps and Shane's not sure if it's supposed to actually mean anything but he doesn't stop.
Shane always feels like he's in the shadowlands of Brendon's psyche, the place in the middle where Brendon feels the right and wrong on either side, where he lets his guard down but still expects his trust to be betrayed.
He doesn't know how to say any of that though, so he puts his mouth in Brendon's hair, making a noise to let him know how much he likes doing this. It's the truth, too, because now he's also hard.
Brendon breathes hard against Shane's bicep and grips his hip when Shane adjusts his grip from a hard, closed-fisted jerk to a loose, thumb-finger slide slipping over the ridge around the head of his cock on every up-stroke. Brendon's been easy for a hand-job for as long as Shane's known him and even if it's been several weeks since he's done this, he hasn't forgotten what works. He tries to shut off his brain and focus on the tension in his hand, ignoring the ache in his shoulder and keeping his movement consistent.
"Fuck. Shane…" Brendon presses his face hard into Shane's arm. He grunts a pathetically adorable little 'hah-hah!' his knees pull up slightly and then he comes. It's kind of mess but Shane could care less about the newly cleaned bedding as much as it pleases him that it looks like Brendon hasn't come in awhile.
Brendon rolls onto his back and now, for some reason, Shane feels self-conscious. It makes no sense because he's still dressed while Brendon's completely naked, his come still streaked wet on the fabric between them and dripping down the back of Shane's hand but Shane isn't sure where this goes next. If this was a film, he'd get naked and they'd continue.
Brendon proves himself the anti-hero when he puts his hand on his stomach.
"Okay, I'm fucking starving." He peeks open tired eyes. "Eat now, please, yes?"
Shane laughs. "Yeah, come on."
He's pouring the food from the cartons onto plates when Brendon comes in, wearing boxers and one of Shane's t-shirts, and he's carrying Dylan.
"Look at this pretty puppy I found," he says in an lovey-talk voice that gets Dylan all excited, wagging her tail, trying to lick him.
"And here I thought she was the one who found something pretty." Shane bites his lip after he says it but he sees Brendon grin at the compliment and he puts his chin on Shane's shoulder, looking over at the food. He opens his mouth with an 'aah' and Shane puts a forkful of Huli Huli Chicken in his mouth.
"Oh, mah gaw," Brendon muffles as he chews and puts Dylan down quickly. "Gimme more."
Shane laughs and feeds him a bite of Curry this time. Brendon approves with a moan and then they sit on the stools and eat at the breakfast bar.
"You need to do laundry?" Shane asks, tugging on his shirt that Brendon's wearing.
"Nah, most of the shit in my suitcase is clean. Zack did laundry before we left."
They giggle because Zack doing their laundry is never not amusing.
"Hey, look, we have real plates!" Brendon taps on the dish with the prongs of his fork now that the food is clear, a questioning frown on his face. "These are new, right? We didn't have these before."
"Yep. Your mom and Kara brought 'em. They didn't like how we were killing the environment with Chinet. There's bowls and glasses and all that, too," he waves at the cabinets, "I mentioned it in email."
"Oh, right. I gotta call them this week sometime…" Brendon says, his voice suddenly quiet and he gazes at the plates as though his entire familial connection is represented in the curry-smeared plate.
"You busy this week?" Shane asks, poking Brendon's calf with his big toe and then hooking his heel around Brendon's ankle. He'd asked before on the phone, but Brendon couldn't ever be pegged down for an answer.
"Yeah. Gonna work out some new arrangements tomorrow."
"Okay. I've got work, too."
Brendon nods and, already, Shane can see how his mind is half gone into the music they'll be making but his shoulders are slumped and his eyes are dark.
Shane gives him a minute and opens another beer before Brendon yawns again, so big that his eyes water.
"You should go on to bed."
Brendon nods but looks reluctant, like he's afraid he'll miss something if he goes to bed.
"I gotta take the trash out so Dylan doesn't get into it."
"'kay." He slides off the stool and starts to leave when he stops short. "Hey, you know where my car keys are?" he asks.
"Junk drawer in the kitchen," Shane tells him, pulling the plastic garbage liner out of the can. "Dude, you know where would be a good place to keep keys?"
Brendon pauses with a blank face and then grins. "A Key Table?"
"Exactly."
Shane spends the evening working at his desk in the corner of the bedroom while Brendon sleeps. The hours since they ate their early dinner have slipped away until it becomes dark, the light of his monitor now glowing cold-blue in the room. He's long grown accustomed to the quiet sound of Brendon's snore, which he only does when he's exhausted like this. Shane replays the segment of footage he's tracking and pets Dylan with his feet where she's curled up under the desk when he notices the quiet in the room.
"Shane?"
He pauses at the question of his name in Brendon's groggy voice and turns his head, listening not for what Brendon says but for how he says it.
"Hey..."
Shane turns back to the screen and clicks to save his project while rubbing a hand over his mouth and jaw, hiding away a smile. This is what he's been waiting for. Waiting for Brendon to call him, to want him.
He stands at the side of the bed, still seeing spots as his eyes adjust to the darkness, and feels Brendon reach for him. His hands slip under the hem of Shane's shirt and he drags his bottom lip across the skin above Shane's navel. When Brendon starts rubbing Shane's dick through his pants, he unbuttons his shirt from the top button and when it's completely undone, Brendon gets up onto his knees at the edge of the bed, gripping Shane's ribs while he's licks over one nipple. There's a demanding kind of voracity to Brendon's manner, though it's not hurried. Shane's shirt falls to the carpet and he works to unbutton and unzip his pants around Brendon's hand where he's still rubbing him.
Once Shane's undressed, they rotate so that Brendon is standing and Shane lays back on the bed, his knees bent over the edge. It's no surprise that Brendon gets into the drawer in the nightstand. He’d figured, been hoping, that Brendon would want to fuck once he got some rest.
"Shit!" he gasps into the dark when he feels Brendon's mouth on his cock without preamble. "Fu-uck…" He hisses again, only this time it's directed with a hint of reprimand, poking Brendon with his toe as he raises his bent knee and rests his foot on the edge of the bed.
Brendon sort of laughs low, rumbling the sound around Shane's cock as he sucks hard. Shane just stares at the shadows on the ceiling that he's grown accustomed to looking up at when he's jerking off and wishing that Brendon was in bed and doing this. He's just beginning to relax his legs, letting them fall apart, when Brendon slides his fingers back from his balls and presses the pad of a split-slick finger over his hole once, once again, and then presses in.
"Ah," Shane whimpers, and while it was sudden, it was still gentle. Brendon's never been a careless lover with him - self-indulgent, maybe - but never careless. He feels chills run up his body, curling his toes and flexing his muscles around the finger, but then gets lost in the way Brendon's mouth moves on his cock. It's not a steady pace; Brendon bobs, then sucks the head and licks the tip and he's all over the place with teasing, not really trying to get Shane off and he realizes with a jolt why that is when Brendon slides another finger along side the first.
"God, Brendon …" he moans, a little annoyed to hear that the high pitch of his voice sounds less surprised by this and more yes, yes! than he really meant. Not that he minds this, he doesn't mind at all, but getting fucked is something he usually likes to be mentally prepared for.
Brendon pulls his mouth off and kisses the inside of his thigh and then reaches over, handing Shane a condom.
"Can you open that for me, please?" Brendon asks, still working his fingers slowly, and Shane almost laughs at how he can be so polite about asking for help with the wrapper when he's neglected to ask Shane if he could fuck him in the first place.
Still, it's Brendon, and few of Shane's rules ever apply.
Brendon pulls his hand away to roll on the condom and Shane sits up to watch, just barely making out the shadow of the action in the dark. He's a little breathless, incredibly turned on, and while the stretch of Brendon's fingers have made him want this, there's still a flutter of nervous apprehension in him. Maybe it's the smell of the latex that triggers his sense memory, but whatever it is, Shane sits up further and reaches for Brendon.
"Hey. Hey…" Brendon whispers, bending to kiss him for the first time since he called Shane to him. "Brendon's here," Brendon says softly against his mouth, and it's such a weird third person thing to say. Shane's never quite understood why he does that, but he knows that it's well intended regardless. Brendon doesn't stop kissing him while he covers himself with lube and when Shane lays back, he closes his eyes as Brendon presses into him.
He holds his breath for a moment as every part of his body tenses and he takes quiet, shallow breaths as he relaxes in tiny measures. Brendon can feel him begin to relax and pushes just a little deeper before he begins to move with quick, steady thrusts and Shane tries to lose himself in it but it's too rough this soon and he grips his fingers into Brendon's hips, hard. Brendon hisses, pausing and twisting slightly from Shane's pinching fingers without completely pulling out.
"Slow down, huh?" Shane says, smoothing his hands over where his fingers dug in. "Just … I'm not going anywhere."
Brendon lowers onto him, weight on his elbows, pressing in slow and deep, but he puts his mouth on Shane's neck. "'m sorry. Sure," Brendon says between kisses and they don't stop moving after that. It doesn't feel like simple fucking and maybe there aren't enough words to classify it, but he knows that Brendon is loving him the best way he knows how.
~
Shane hears faint strumming and then subsequent plinking on the keyboard before he even opens his eyes. He stretches and adjusts himself, evaluating the deep, dull ache in his muscles, reminders of the long awaited sex from last night and then sleeping in positions that were less than comfortable but allowed him to keep a hand or foot on Brendon at all times. He puts a hand to his half hard dick and realizes it's the first morning in a long time that he hasn't automatically beat off upon waking. He wishes that Brendon was still in bed so they could do it together but thinks that Brendon's probably been up for a few hours since he'd slept so much yesterday and then he realizes how late it must be already.
"Shit, shit, shit," he whispers as he rolls out of bed. He pees, brushes his teeth and finds cleans clothes in the laundry basket in the closet. He'd washed it all, but folding and putting it away wasn't something he'd managed to get done. The only reason the basket is in the closet was because he's wanted the room to look clean for Brendon.
God, maybe he really is a happy homemaker.
Shane finds him in the next bedroom, the only one that Brendon had unpacked before going on tour again. He pauses in his rush and leans against the door frame, watching and listening to him play for a moment. He's only wearing turquoise boxer-briefs, the elastic settling just below the dimples above his ass. He's really pale but has a notable farmer's tan on his arms and the back of his neck. Shane recognizes a few chords but the melody goes from sounding vaguely bluesy into something country and then he knows Brendon's just fucking around so he goes over and hugs Brendon's head to his chest, giving him a playful shake before he leans down to kiss him.
"Hey," Brendon says, chuckling and raising his chin, kissing at the air in Shane's general direction before looking back down at the fret board.
"Yo, not on." Shane protests and puts his hand on Brendon's cheek, who looks at him with a surprised expression behind his black-framed glasses. "C'mere."
They kiss with closed mouths then, pressing together a few times before pulling away and then Shane can see that he's finally got Brendon's attention.
"Morning."
"Hi." Brendon stands, puts his guitar down and follows Shane into the kitchen. "You work today, right?" he asks. "I couldn't remember. Didn't know if I should get you up."
"Yeah. Won't be all day, just have to turn in release forms and check out a location and blah - boring shit."
"Cool. Whatever you gotta. The guys are coming later."
"Sure. Oh, uh, so I bought a table for the entryway online last night. Should be delivered today."
"Okay." Brendon making faces at Dylan, trying to bait her into barking at him.
"You make any coffee?"
Brendon shakes his head, yawning, which in turn makes Shane yawn, too, and when Brendon sees it, he laughs. "Ha - gave it to you! Oh, but, no. I didn't know where the filters and stuff were."
"They are, shockingly enough," Shane opens the cabinet door, "right above the coffee maker."
"Oh. Heh, look, they're right there."
Shane rolls his eyes and sniffs, pulling his cap low on his head and putting on his shades. "I don't have time anyway. Got to go."
They're so used to casual goodbyes and being apart that they keep their distance but Shane reminds himself that they're together now and turns back around. He ducks his head against Brendon's neck and doesn't so much hug as just lean against him, trapping Brendon between himself and the countertop. Brendon laughs quietly, hugging Shane to him, slipping fingertips under his hat and rubbing the back of his skull.
"I'll be here when you get back."
"Mph," Shane grunts and then makes himself pull away. He's always having to pull away.
~^~
When Shane pulls into the driveway hours later, the furniture delivery truck is just pulling away. He walks inside and almost walks right back out again just to make sure he's got the right address.
The tables and leather couches are pushed against the walls and crowding into the open dining room and the entire space has been replaced with two thirds of a drum kit, amps, and a maze wires all flanked with guitars sitting or propped everywhere.
"Hey, man," Jon greets as he comes out of the kitchen with a bottle in each hand. "Now we can start the party. Ah, let me offer you one of your own beers." Jon looks a little sheepish as he hands it over.
"Thanks." They exchange an easy one-armed hug as he takes it. "You guys have been busy," he says, after they twist the caps off and drink, surveying the disaster around them.
"Yeah, well. Break time now. Trashing your place and drinking your beer is tiring, you know? And Spence had to get his Mario Kart fix - it's been a few days. Brendon said there was a Fa-Filab," Jon has to try three times before he gets it right, "- Filibertos?"
Shane's pretty used to Jon's babbling but it still makes him giggle. "Mexican food, yeah. It's not far."
"How ya doing, brother?" Spencer comes around the corner and approaches for a hug but at the last minute, Shane covers his face and sneezes.
"Wow, gross." Spencer laughs a little. "Bless you?"
"Sorry," Shane snuffles behind his hand as he grabs a tissue from the box on the counter and blows his nose. "Forgot my allergy meds this morning."
"Don't you get shots for that?"
"I do. Twice a month and I still need meds everyday. Jesus."
Spencer gives him an incredulous but fond smirk and then looks out to the patio where Brendon is playing with Dylan while Ryan is walking around with an acoustic guitar. "I can't believe you even got a dog with an allergy that bad."
Shane pops the chalky tablet into his mouth, chases it with his Coors Light, and sniffs again, hoping the itch in his sinuses goes away soon.
"Yeah, but Brendon wanted one." Maybe that's not a concise enough reason for some people but he figures Spencer understands when he shrugs and nods.
"Right."
"Shane!" Brendon shouts as he comes in, carrying Dylan. "Ryan's gonna eat our dog!"
"I only said I was hungry." Ryan trails inside after him, voice quiet in his protest.
"Hey, Ryan, good to see you," Shane says, going to hug him which always seems to surprise Ryan. "I'll go pick up food. Don't eat my dog, man."
Ryan laughs silently and ducks his head. "I won't."
Shane wanders over to Brendon and pets Dylan, using her as an excuse to crowd into Brendon's space. It's not that they hide themselves in front of the other guys but they've never given them the chance to be dicks about the situation either.
"Hi," Shane says, wiping his nose again. Brendon raises her towards Shane who promptly sneezes again.
"Allergies?" Brendon asks, turning Dylan away a little bit with an overtly concerned face, eyes wide.
"Nah. Smog is high today."
"Yeah? Okay…" Brendon keeps looking at him with an anxious expression though.
"I hear you want Filibertos?"
Brendon beams at the change of topic and nods. "I told Jon about the shrimp tacos."
"I need shrimp tacos!" Jon shouts from the living room with the vague intonation of "Show me the money!"
"You got it."
He's dutifully putting his hat and glasses back on when Brendon says, "Spencer will go with you."
There's no reason at all why Spencer wouldn't, or shouldn't come with him, except that Brendon's saying as much seems out of place and the oddity is confirmed by the fleeting glare of frustration Spencer shoots at him.
He shakes his head and smirks when he says, "Yeah, I'll come with."
"Okay..." Shane glances at Brendon as he goes out but he just gives him a cheesy smile and waves.
Spencer clears his throat in car before talking. Shane likes that Spencer doesn't bullshit around. "Your boyfriend's an idiot."
Shane laughs out loud at that, too loud and high pitched, but he really wasn't expecting that. Both because Spencer is pretty careful and specific about his words and also because none of them really talk about he and Brendon being together.
"I mean, it's not a big deal, but he's gone and made it a big deal now," Spencer continues.
"What's not a big deal?"
"I wanna go ahead get in on the project with you."
Shane’s brain immediately floods with ideas for Realm but he tries to stay on topic because he doesn't think that's the point of this particular discussion. "Okay. That's awesome, dude."
"Yeah, so, um. So, Ryan's been talking about moving to L.A. forever and we're taking a break after this tour, so-"
"A break? A from touring kind of break?"
"Yeah. This is the last one for a while. We need the time off. Put together some new shit."
"Right." Shane is glad he's got the driving to focus on because he's still hung up on 'break' and that means Brendon will be staying home.
"Anyway, so, I'm keeping my house at home so I need-"
"Well you're staying with us, right?"
"I talked with Brendon about that. Thought I should ask you."
"Well you're wrong. And dumb, if you thought you had to ask."
That makes Spencer smile and look out the window.
"I'd help with rent and all. Whatever,"
"Totally," Shane thinks about what it will really be like to have Spencer there for more than just a couple of days. "You know we're slobs, right? Probably not the easiest people to live with."
But the thing is, Shane isn't a slob. Not really. And there's not much about Brendon that Spencer doesn't already know, but that's not really what he's talking about.
"Your house, man. I'm a guest. Don't change anything for my benefit."
"Your house, too."
"I appreciate that, but really, I don't want put you guys out. You don't have to do anything different for me. I'm cool with whatever, you know?"
Shane nods as he looks over his shoulder before making a turn and he knows that Spencer's not really talking about their cleaning habits either.
~
Shane spends much of the evening retreating into the shadows as the band works. Sometimes they argue but mostly they laugh, talking to each other in a half-language of in jokes and music-speak. Laying his head back, he watches smoke curl towards ceiling in a beam of light from the kitchen.
He's got one leg tucked underneath him and Brendon, who's been walking around with his Taylor, sits down close enough that he's just to the inside of Shane's bent knee in the V of his thighs. The head of the guitar is crossing right in front of Shane's face and he watches Brendon down strum through a chord progression and when he recognizes it, he leans forward. Peeking over Brendon's shoulder, he reaches under the neck of the guitar and Brendon moves his left hand to let Shane grip the frets.
"This?" Shane asks.
"Yeah." Brendon smiles as he strums once and then watches as Shane rearranges his fingers for the second chord.
"And?"
Brendon strums it out. "You got it."
"And then …" Shane tries to remember the last one, the tendons in the back of his hand already straining at the awkwardness as he presses his ring finger to the third string.
"Nuh-uh" Brendon jerks his head and Shane moves his fingertip to the second string and then Brendon nods, strumming it out. "There. Do it again," Brendon tells him, catching Shane's eyes just for a second before looking patiently at Shane's hand. They go through the progression again, halting for Shane's clumsy fingers on the strings, but on the third time, Shane does it with ease and Brendon beams at him.
"Awesome."
"Totally." Shane looks at Brendon's mouth and wants to kiss him. He puts his tongue to his own bottom lip and almost does, but his thoughts must show because Brendon makes a face at him and then kind of scrunches his nose. It's not much as far as communication goes, but Shane takes it as a promise for later.
Once they more or less agree on the new arrangements and Brendon has sung Shout! so many times that he's lost enthusiasm for it, Spence calls for the driver. They aren't 'home' so their expenses are still covered by the tour.
Goodbyes are brief because they'll all be back by the end of the week but Shane shares a nod of mutual understanding with Spencer as he goes. He stands in the doorway and waits until the Excursion pulls away, waving once more before shutting the door.
Brendon, long since shirtless, is by the entertainment unit putting on some music, still whistling the same melody that's looping in Shane's head. He rubs over his eyebrows as he carefully picks his way through the strewn equipment on the living room floor and sits on the couch. He'd rather have silence right now after hearing them play all night - actual drums in his living room, thank you - but the music starts and it's uncomplicated and quiet, an almost seductive rhythm in the bass line.
Dylan comes sniffing into the room, her ears and tail showing her unease at the disrupted furniture.
"They're all gone, now," Brendon tells her, picking her up. "C'mere, girl."
Shane sits almost sideways with his back against the armrest and his legs wide apart. Brendon sits right in front of him and leans against Shane's chest. It's exactly how Shane has wanted him all night and his hands immediately wrap around Brendon's chest. He puts his mouth to Brendon's shoulder and doesn't even kiss, but slides his parted lips over the freckles to the base of Brendon's neck and then sucks, darting his tongue over the skin.
"Ah!" Brendon squeaks, squirming a little, which makes Dylan wriggle in his arms. Shane squeezes him a little tighter and sucks harder. He doesn't usually leave hickey marks like this. He's not quite sure why the impulse struck him, but when he pulls his mouth away, he makes a satisfied 'hm' at the sight of the little purple half-heart marking Brendon's skin.
"You jerk," Brendon says with a rumbling laugh in his voice, nudging Shane with his elbow. "Okay, pretty-puppy, down you go." He lets Dylan lick his chin once before leaning down to put her on the floor.
Shane keeps one hand on Brendon's hip and when Brendon situates himself back against Shane's chest, he holds him close. He makes a loose fist and runs the pad of his thumb up the centerline of Brendon's abdomen and chest a few times until Brendon relaxes his head on the couch above Shane's shoulder.
"You tired?" Shane asks, he doesn't really think he is, just making conversation. He opens his hand and rubs his four fingers along the soft grooves of Brendon's ribs, strong enough so that it won't tickle but careful not to dig his fingertips.
"Nah, 'm good."
"'kay."
He rests his cheek on the curve of Brendon's shoulder and neck and pushes at the elastic of his boxers, first one side, then the next, stretching the fabric over his soft cock. Brendon arches just a little to accommodate him but Shane doesn't try to get them off, just leaves them stretched around his upper thighs, pushed far enough to leave him exposed.
Brendon relaxes, going still and heavy with his head back and eyes closed. Shane takes in the sight of him; sparse freckles standing out against fair skin, the slight tan line on his arms, the black hair curling soft around his cock. Brendon's abdomen flutters under Shane's slow moving hand. Shane doesn't touch his dick, though; he wants to watch him get hard.
"You directing porn in your head again?" Brendon accuses.
"I don't do that," he lies, because he totally does. He'd direct awesome porn. Classy porn with good music.
Shane feels the nub of Brendon's nipple under his palm while he kisses his neck again. With a fingertip, he circles the puckering pink skin, watching Brendon's cock twitch and rise until it strains upward with every sweep of Shane's other hand across his belly.
Brendon whines a little before the unhappy sounds turns into a growl.
"'Come on, jerk, touch me," Brendon grumbles, wriggling a little but not quite pressing against Shane's hard-on.
"Nuh-uh." Shane shakes his head, his lips still against Brendon's shoulder while he slips his hand along the crease of Brendon's thigh and his balls until his cock flexes once before resting against his stomach again.
"If, I mean, what if I kinda want to take you over my new table over there?" Shane holds Brendon in place while he presses upward, gaining a little friction against Brendon's ass.
Brendon raises his head and opens his eyes, heavy-lidded but amused as he smirks down at him.
"Is the new Key Table really just sex furniture?"
"Well, it's multi-purpose."
"Very practical. Of course."
Shane tongues over the purpling hickey he left earlier. "That okay?"
Brendon giggles, mostly silent, but Shane feels the way his body shakes with it and feels him tense just before leaning forward and standing. "After last night? I guess it's only fair, right?" He lets his boxers-briefs fall the rest of the way to the floor and steps out of them.
Shane puts a heel on the couch to prop his elbow on his knee, cheek against his hand while he squeezes his dick with his other hand.
"Hey, we don't do paybacks, remember?" he reminds Brendon, watching him walk comfortably, completely naked, across the mess of the living room and stand in front of the entryway table. He leans forward and puts both hands on the surface, parts his feet slightly, and then slowly turns his head over his shoulder. He can't quite make the eye contact at this angle but the communication is clear.
Shane can't deny there's part of himself that likes the show Brendon can put on. He gets the focus of every photograph and film, always at center stage, Shane feels a sort of kinship to every Hollywood director who married his star - there's a reason that happens.
He gets up and walks forward, watching how the lines in Brendon's back shift, his ass flexes, and he tilts his head back, breathing deep in anticipation.
"You'd really do anything I asked, wouldn't you?" he says against Brendon's spine, hands on his hips.
"You are the director…" Brendon drags out his words in snarky sarcasm.
Shane bends down and sets his teeth against Brendon's ribs, his waist and then to the curve of his ass, not even biting, just teasing nips which make Brendon squawk and jump.
"We're absolutely doing this," Shane stands and nudges Brendon until he turns around. "Someday."
He holds Brendon's face in his hands to kiss him, a little dry and a lot scratchy from their unshaven growth.
Brendon dips his fingers into Shane's jeans, pulling him forward by the waistband. "What, not now?"
Shane kisses him again before taking a step backwards. "Let's go to our room."
Hotel rooms, bus bunks, dressing rooms, bathroom stalls; Brendon's had some kind of sex in every kind of location, but Shane doesn't want to be another creative sexual experience in this bizarre life they lead. The least they can have is a comfortable bed when they can have it.
Shane walks ahead of Brendon down the hall and strips off his shirt as he goes. He opens his pants just inside the doorway, Brendon running his fingers over Shane's lower belly as walks past.
"No, go lay down, baby. Go on," he says to Dylan as he closes the bedroom door, shutting her out.
"She's gonna hate me," Brendon says, tugging the tangled mess of sheet and comfortable off the bed.
"She won't. And she'd just whine at us if we let her watch anyway." They know this from experience and it's distracting at best. Shane pushes his jeans and boxers from around his feet while Brendon grabs the bottle of Eros and a condom.
"We're almost out," Brendon says over his shoulder, flipping a condom by the corner.
"New box in the bathroom."
"Cool, you think of everything - oh, hi!" Brendon startles, not expecting Shane to be so close already, muttering "Hi there," against his neck as he moves them onto the bed.
They lie on their sides facing each other and while kissing isn't the easiest this way with arms trapped between them, Brendon throws his leg over Shane's, which is perfect for touching. For the first time tonight, he finally takes Brendon's cock in hand, giving him slow, short pulls. Brendon reaches back for the Eros and squeezes some into Shane's hand cupped around his dick.
They take their time, rolling around together, Brendon on top, thrusting against him, until they roll again so that Shane can settle between his legs. He reaches down, kissing on Brendon's collarbone as he slides his hand along his cock, cups and pulls carefully at his balls before sliding his slick fingers further back. He draws a teasing circle until Brendon arches against his hand with a dry "Yeah."
Brendon clings an arm around Shane's shoulders, one hand pressing the back of Shane's head keeping his mouth firmly against Brendon's throat while he moves his fingers. He uses one inside of him, barely moving, and then presses two at once.
"Okay, jesus, let's do this already. Shit," Brendon mutters, swearing again as he pushes Shane's hand away.
Shane stands at the side of the bed, tears the corner of the plastic square with his teeth because his hands are so slick and he only half concentrates on rolling the tight condom onto his dick because he's also watching Brendon finger himself and rub a thumb over the head of cock with his other. Shane bites his lip, smiling, watching Brendon's small hands work himself with his eyes closed.
"Um." He puts a hand on Brendon's ankle and he opens his eyes. "Come down here."
"'kay."
Brendon scoots closer and then swings his legs off the side of the bed, rolling over onto his stomach, lying onto the mattress. The irony of a position like this is how it's generally assumed submissive but Shane knows better because it's his knees that go weak. "God … damn," he breathes and Brendon kind of laughs, a smug little purr deep in chest. He has every reason to be, really.
He slides a finger in and then out as he aligns himself and Brendon goes completely quiet until Shane pushes forward.
"Oh, god. Fuck, Brendon," Shane groans, struggling to go slow and stay aware of Brendon's responses. "Bren?"
"Yeah. Shut up. Just."
He gives in and gives up and pulls back before pressing in further, slow and firm. They groan in tandem and Shane bends low over him, wrapping arms around Brendon's chest before fucking him with steady, shallow thrusts.
Shane pauses after a minute, already out of breath, his chest sticking to Brendon's sweat damp back. He stands up, sliding his hands down Brendon's torso until they grip onto the curves of his hips and he arches back. "This is so good."
Brendon turns his head, pressing his cheek into the bed, groaning, but he's got a faint smile on his face.
He keeps a steady pace until they're both breathless again and Shane pulls out slowly, stroking more Eros onto the condom before climbing onto the bed after Brendon, who lies on his back and pulls his knees up as Shane settles over him.
He slides in easily this time but the tight friction still pulls a guttural "gah-hahadd" from his throat and he chuckles at the same time.
Brendon bucks up and writhes with it, too, but his eyes are closed and his head is turned away and hands are gripping the sheets.
"Hey, you." Shane settles his weight on his knees and elbows. He's pressed so fully inside and his mouth is so close to Brendon's face that getting his attention is an easy feat, though his expression is still a little hazy and disconnected. "You with me here? This okay?" He knows how easy it is for Brendon to mentally check out during sex, to let it be one-sided, giving his body but not the rest of himself, and that's just not good enough. If Shane had to pick between the two, he'd invert the equation, but he's a greedy fuck and he wants it all.
"Th's awesome." Brendon releases his grip on the bedding and Shane feels them wrap around his lower back, one hand sliding down to knead his ass and pull him closer, deeper. "You love me," Brendon finally says, almost laughing as he does. He's not seriously questioning, not really, but his eyes still look little hopeful to hear it confirmed. Shane looks away from that look because Brendon can still make his breath catch - he'd never say that out loud, but it's true. Instead, he drops his head to press his cheek to Brendon's heart as he rocks into him and says, "I do."
They don't talk again and it's a long while before they're done, panting and moving together, swearing filthy words when climax can no longer be prolonged, and that's when Brendon finally goes utterly, beautifully silent.
Shane lays on him in a messy, boneless heap, feeling Brendon follow the design on his forearm until he's worried about squashing him.
"Be right back," he whispers and Brendon clings to him for a second before letting him go.
After cleaning up in the bathroom, he opens the door to let Dylan in. She skulks past with her tail down, looking resentful for having been left out.
"Hi, pretty girl," Brendon says through a yawn, watching her jump onto the end of the bed where she curls into a ball and puts her chin on the bed, glaring them with petulant eyes.
Brendon snuggles into Shane as he crawls back into bed.
"Spencer told me earlier, last tour for awhile, huh?"
Brendon nods against his neck and Shane smoothes down the hair that tries to stick up his nose. "For awhile. I don't know, try being home for awhile?"
"Sounds good. I'll teach you to surf."
"I know how to surf!" Brendon pokes at him but then starts to trace his finger over Shane's tattoo again. "And I'll be home for the holidays and all that."
"Sweet. You busy this week then?"
"Video shoot this weekend. And recording that song - hey, you wanna come with?"
"Sure. Think they'll let me film?"
"Same as always probably."
"…They tell me no and I do it anyway?"
Brendon giggles. "Hey, let's put in a movie and go to sleep."
"Go frit."
Brendon starts to hop up to put in a DVD - Shane's not even gonna ask what - but he pulls him down for another quick kiss first. He pauses at the edge of the bed, looking at Dylan. "Think we could get another puppy? For Dylan. So she has a friend."
For Dylan, yeah right. Shane thinks briefly how that might mean three shots a month instead of two, but it's small enough price.
"Another puppy would be cool. As soon as you get home - and you get to crate train this time."
Brendon crawls into bed and butts Shane with the top of his head before setting in next to him. "Okay."
"'kay. Whatever you want, B," Shane says as he closes his eyes and yawns when the overture of The Little Mermaid begins.
He drifts into light sleep, waking every time Brendon shifts, but he finds Shane's hand under the sheet and holds it, resting it on his thigh.
~
Pairing: Brendon/Shane
Word Count: 9700
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I really do know the difference between real life and fiction. This is the latter.
Summary: Brendon comes home. Set between the Australian tour and Rock Band Live, only hand waving away that birthday party in Las Vegas. (Along with the rest of reality.)
Warnings: Self indulgent domestic fluff (complete with dog training disagreements and taking the trash out) and is pretty close to being PWP.
A/N: My thanks to mrsquizzical and queenb23more for the beta help. Remaining errors are mine.
~
"And there he is…" Shane mutters to himself, narrating the scene as it unfolds while trying to get a picture of Brendon as he walks towards him. He's just getting through Customs but other people in the concourse keep blocking his shot. He's only using a little point-and-shoot digital because the professional camera always makes people turn and look - especially in LAX.
Brendon's wearing sunglasses and that ugly-ass shirt that Shane already has hundreds of pictures of. When he finally sees Shane, he scrunches up his face, making giant kissy lips at the camera. Not at Shane, at the camera.
Shane takes the shot anyway.
He waves at Spencer and the other guys as they duck out the nearest exit where he can see the passenger van waiting at the pick up. He'd go say hello but he thinks they're intentionally hanging back.
"Look at your face, you shaved!" is the first thing Brendon says to him, reaching out to touch his cheek, but Shane swats his hand away, giggling a little, automatically smoothing his fingers over his jaw.
"I had a meeting," he mumbles as excuse, which is a total lie. It just seemed like the thing to do while he was putting clean sheets on the bed and giving Dylan a bath that morning.
"Uh-huh," Brendon says, moving forward for a hug. Brendon's backpack falls off his shoulder, jarring him a little off-balance, but Shane squeezes him tightly, digging his fingertips into Brendon's ribs, feeling the sweep of Brendon's lips against his neck.
"Fucking world tour, huh?" Shane grumbles but then laughs it off.
"Dude, I know."
He takes Brendon's backpack automatically and slings it over his own shoulder, expecting Brendon to complain about his aching back from the flight as it is, then hooks the other bag onto the extended handle of his little rolling-suitcase. Brendon's 'thank you' is an appreciative smile and glance over the rim of his shades before he flings his arms overhead, grasping his forearms and stretching from side to side. His frayed shirt rides up, exposing his torso, and Shane's still looking at Brendon's hips when they begin walking so that Shane rams right into a woman who curses at him in something that is not English.
"Sorry, my fault. Sorry."
Brendon laughs, nudging Shane's shoulder. "Distracted much?"
"Hm," Shane grunts, knowing he's blushing, and keeps his head down.
They nearly make it out of the airport without being noticed but a woman about his age with a toddler on her hip approaches and somewhat apologetically asks for an autograph.
Shane presses his lips together and rubs the back of his hand over his mouth, suppressing a laugh at how much the band's audience has broadened, but Brendon seems unfazed by her. He's gracious during the thirty seconds of time he offers her even though his eyes show exhaustion. At least she didn't ask for a picture.
"What?" Brendon asks and then smirks when he gets it. "Bite me. - ooh sun!" He shields his eyes as they walk outside into the mid-day light.
"You gonna tell me Australia didn't have the sun?"
"It did! But it was all upside-down and wrong. This is Home Sun."
"I'll have to Wikipedia this but I'm pretty sure it's the same sun."
"Nope! You're wrong. California Sun has tacos and Dylan-puppy. And you." The last word, he says low and teasing with exaggeration before he lets go of Shane's arm.
~
"Home! Home!" Brendon sings, playing with the echo of his voice off the high ceiling. The "oh-oh-oh" vowel sound goes up the scale and eventually turns into the line of some song Shane doesn't know. "Ah, bitchin'! It's huge when it's not full of boxes!"
Shane chuckles to himself as he maneuvers Brendon's suitcase and bags through the doorway. The place had been a disaster of half unpacked boxes when Brendon had left.
He turns around to face Shane when the door is shut and the reality that they are alone sinks in with the silence. It's not novel for him but he doubts Brendon's had any privacy outside of the bathroom which is probably like reverse over-stimulation. Under-stimulation? He's talked with Brendon's mom enough times about the concept, he ought to remember.
Keeping things light and expectations low, he shuffles to the side and tosses his keys. They bounce off the wall near the door and land on the floor with a clang. "I want to get a table for right there. For keys," Shane says. "A …Key Table? I'm sure that's what they're actually called."
"Oh, totally. I think IKEA has an entire Key Table section." Brendon gives him that Very Serious nod with a smirk of sarcasm which just begs 'Get it? Get it?'.
Shane doesn't bother mentioning that they could afford a nicer Key Table than a cheap one from IKEA because Brendon is looking at him with that half smile of his; eyes all soft around the edges like he's seeing Shane for the first time today. Like they didn't just spend an hour in the car together.
"So, hi? Welcome home, huh?" Shane offers, because while he's never been nervous around Brendon like he's seen from so many others, that look on Brendon's face at him makes his guts go squidgy after so long apart.
"Come here, you," Brendon says, which is ironic because Shane doesn't move at all and Brendon comes to him.
It's less of a hug this time, just an awkward kind of gripping the back of their shirts too hard with their mouths pressed together so insistently that it's uncomfortable. After the first apprehensive moment passes, they each take a breath and their lips soften.
The tension in Brendon eases a bit, his arms relax more naturally around Shane's waist, and he tilts his head, making a little questioning noise. Shane pursues the moment, answering with an affirmative hum, teasing his tongue into Brendon's mouth, wanting to taste him a little at a time to make the reacquaintance last longer.
Brendon makes another tiny noise. It's a good one this time, a happy kind of sound in the back of his throat that's nearly a whine more than anything. Brendon's got his eyes shut, Shane knows because he peeks, which makes him grin.
"What?" Brendon asks, voice soft, when he feels Shane's mouth move into a smile.
"You're home," Shane mumbles, losing the words into Brendon's mouth, who purrs a "hmm," kissing him back again. They stand like that for a while, trading long wet kisses while Shane's hands slip under the back of Brendon's shirt. His skin is humid, warm, and Shane feels along every rib and the nub of his spine, giving him a rush of affection for the familiarity he feels under his hand.
He shifts apart just an inch to raise his hand so he can touch Brendon's face, his fingers on Brendon's jaw while his thumb pushes against his bottom lip. He watches the way Brendon lets his mouth stay soft so Shane can gently pinch his bottom lip into a bow before leaning in to suck and nip at it with his teeth. Brendon presses against Shane then, keeping his mouth pliant for Shane's kisses which become progressively dirtier and deeper, while showing his own want by rocking a firming bulge against Shane's upper thigh. Brendon doesn't stop pressing against him and if that doesn't end soon, Shane's going to get his hand inside Brendon's pants and it's all going to happen right here on the floor instead on the clean sheets he made the effort to wash.
"I, fuck …" Shane struggles stop kissing him. "I have plans for dinner and stuff."
"Dinner?” Brendon asks; his voice isn't very deep now but running a little high at the end of each word while he keeps kissing Shane's neck up near his ear. "Like, real food?"
Even first class airline food tastes like shit and Brendon must be hungry. He puts a halt to everything, squeezing Brendon's hips with both hands and pressing his cheek to Brendon's while he takes a few deep breaths. He noses through Brendon's hair to the soft skin behind his ear a few times and kisses it. "More of this. Later…"
Oxygen and music struggle for the number one position on Brendon's list of priorities, while food and fucking alternate for that precious third place. Shane's a patient man, though, and he knows that if he waits until all of those needs are met, he gets all of Brendon in the end.
"Soon-later," Brendon promises, with one last grind of his pelvis.
"Hey, so, I found a new place…" Shane starts as he walks into the kitchen for the take out menu he set aside for tonight when he sees, at a glance, Brendon flopping onto the floor.
"Dylan, baby, come see me!" Brendon pats on the floor.
Dylan skitters down the hall with her ears low. She's shy and nervous of him and skirts the perimeter to come into the kitchen and scuttle around Shane's ankles.
"Go see Brendon, he needs some love. Say hi, go on." He shoos her off as he dials the restaurant.
He doesn't pay much attention while he reads off a few different things from the menu for the two of them to share. Every time he looks in the living room, he sees Brendon rolling on the floor or trying to bait her into playing tug-of-war with one of her toys.
Just as he hangs up, Brendon sits up on his heels, finally managing to get her close enough to pet her ears and kiss her head, and then grins up at Shane.
Shane stops for a moment, leaning against the wall of the archway to watch Brendon play with her. Dylan is playing more with her toy than with Brendon but Shane is convinced that he can charm anything. He pats at the floor, teasing that he's gonna 'get' her paws and this is just the image of home that Shane's been aching for.
"Want a drink?" he asks, not really needing to ask, just making conversation.
Brendon nods and says, "yeah," without looking up, still playing and making yappy dog sounds at Dylan. Just when Shane turns towards the refrigerator he hears Dylan let out a sudden loud snarl, while Brendon simultaneously shouts.
"Ow! Fuck."
When Shane looks back into the room, Brendon is sucking on his hand while Dylan is crouching a few feet away, curling her lip up, showing her teeth in a defensive 'smile'.
"The hell was that?" Shane asks as he comes closer. Brendon's eyes are big and Dylan flutters her tail at his approach.
"My fault. Think I scared her," Brendon mumbles around the side of his hand still in his mouth. "I grabbed her feet. Shouldn't have."
"And she bit you?" Shane feels instant protective anger as he turns on Dylan. "No bite! No!"
"It was my fault," Brendon apologizes.
Shane kneels down next to Dylan, who's already rolled onto her back. With a gentle hand on her midsection, Shane looks into her eyes and growls, "No bite." She turns her head away, avoiding his eyes, and goes limp, submitting to Shane's Alpha discipline. "Bed," he orders her.
Dylan scrambles away, having peed on the carpet like she always does when she gets scared. She lies down inside her 'house', the deluxe metal pen that they used to crate-train her when she was a new puppy.
Brendon looks at Dylan with sad eyes while Shane knee-walks to Brendon and reaches for his hand. "You okay? She get you bad?"
There's a tiny puncture and small scrapes on the side of his index finger and though Brendon's already sucked on it, a drop of blood begins to pool again.
"Goddamn it," Shane grumbles, sending another scowl at Dylan and she turns her head to the wall again, refusing to look at him.
"It's okay."
"You're bleeding. It's not fucking okay."
Brendon shrugs and pulls his hand back. "She didn't mean it. …You didn't have to yell at her."
"She's not allowed to bite." Shane shifts and sits on his ass on the floor. "And I didn't yell."
Brendon slumps over so that he's sitting side by side with Shane, both watching her.
"Didn't yell…" Brendon scoffs. "Like that time Zack was fucking around with the water blaster and got your camera wet?"
Shane remembers. "Yeah - hey I didn't yell at Zack then."
"The hell you say. You were scary enough he wouldn't look you in the eye, either."
"Shaddup," Shane bumps his with his shoulder and takes Brendon's injured hand in his. "Look, we can't let her get away with that. You have to, you know …"
"What?"
"You have to …" Shane hesitates, because any which way he says this is going to sound ridiculous. "You have to show her you're the man of the house. That you're, like, top dog or whatever."
Brendon collapses into giggles, leaning onto Shane and eventually laying his head his Shane's lap.
"It's what the book said!" Shane said, failing at deadpan as he puts a hand on Brendon's head.
Brendon giggles some more before he quiets. "Top dog? Seriously? That's awesome."
"Asshole." He bends to kiss Brendon again and then they get up to get paper towels and carpet cleaner for the mess Dylan left behind.
"Okay. I’m gonna shower," Brendon says with a yawn as they wash their hands at the kitchen sink. "I love our shower."
"It's pretty nice," Shane admits.
"When you do this," Brendon extends his arms like an airplane, "you can't even touch the walls, can you?"
Shane snorts. "It's actually not that big."
"That's what she said!" Brendon beams at him and turns to leave but catches sight of Dylan in her crate and his smile falters. "Shouldn't you let her out now?"
"She's not locked in!" Shane's shout is far squeakier than he'd like, but he hates defending the way he - they - train her, like he's doing something mean. "There's not even a door, Brendon. She can come out whenever she wants to."
He gives Shane a wary look but kneels down and clucks his tongue at her. "Come here, girl! It's okay!" Dylan gets up, but instead of coming out, she just turns a circle on her bed and lays down with her back towards him.
Brendon stands up and pouts. It's an exaggerated expression meant to cover the actual hurt.
"She's just grudgy like that. It's not personal," Shane offers, but Brendon is already shuffling down the hall.
Shane listens, no longer thinking about Dylan now, he bites his lip because he's expecting -
"Holy shit, look at this place!" Brendon shouts. "You happy little homemaker, you!"
Shane smiles then and picks us his keys from the floor.
He's glad he's still in the living room because Brendon would see him blushing and get all self-conscious. Brendon is seeing their bedroom now decorated with actual curtains and bedding and coordinating towels in the bathroom. There's even a mountain of bizarrely shaped pillows in complimenting patterns on the bed, which he thinks are ridiculous because he usually pushes them onto the floor anyway. He'd sought help picking stuff out because he never would have gotten the stupid little pillows, but if Brendon doesn't hate it, he'll accept all the credit.
"I'm going for the food!" Shane shouts, but the water is already running and Brendon starts to sing "Jeremiah was a bullfrog!"
There's a place not far, which serves Californian-style Hawaiian food, and he figures it's the closest he can get to what Brendon had in Maui. When he returns with the paper bag of take out, Dylan circles around his feet, expecting to get a share of whatever it is that smells so good.
"Not on your life, little girl." He drops his sunglasses and hat on the counter with his keys before he picks her up and lets her lick his cheek. "I know, I know. I still love you, too." He knew they'd be friends again. "Where's Brendon, huh? Let's go get him."
He's just about to call out when he finds Brendon face down on the bed, bare-assed naked with one hand tucked under him. The way his body is still and sunk heavily into the comforter looks like actual sleep.
Shane puts Dylan down, absent-mindedly waving her away with a shush and kneels onto the bed next to him. He can see the shadow of Brendon's balls between his thighs and feels a warmth swell in his own. He puts a hand on Brendon's lower back, just above his ass and rubs up his spine and then down again, bending to kiss the back of his neck. The short hairs are still damp and curling around the ends. Brendon wakes enough to take a deep breath and turns his head towards Shane. He doesn't open his eyes, but he smiles welcoming the touch.
"'s goin' on?" Shane asks, his voice nearly a whisper as he shifts to lie down
next to him. "Wanna sleep off that jet-lag? I can put the food away." It's only about 4 o'clock but the sun only shines through the big window in the morning, and the soft yellow light of the afternoon makes it feel later.
"Nuh-uh," Brendon mumbles. "Wanna eat. Jus' tired." He wriggles his ass a little bit, adjusting the hand underneath him.
Shane closes his eyes and bends his head forward, feeling all the things that he doesn't say out loud, like the 'missed you' and 'love you.'
Instead, he kisses Brendon's temple, propping himself on his elbow, and slides his hand to Brendon's hip, pushing him gently until he rolls back over onto his side, eyes still shut. He rubs the back of his fingers over Brendon's stomach, then down his lower belly over the soft scruff of black curls.
He grazes along the crease of Brendon's thigh, warning him of his touch. He doesn't want to sneak attack Brendon's dick by grabbing and shocking him awake. Shane's also not quite sure that Brendon didn't just jerk off in the shower but he likes when Brendon's all sleepy and pliable like this. He wraps his hand over Brendon's where he's still cradling his own cock and squeezes.
Brendon takes a breath, making an amused sound in his chest, and moves his hand away so that Shane can hold him. "Waited for you," he says, reaching for Shane, too, slipping a hand under his shirt, and Brendon seeking out his skin is nearly as exciting as feeling Brendon harden in his hand. A few massaging pulls gets him fully erect and then he starts sliding his hand up and down over the taut skin, cupping the head in his palm.
Brendon leans his forehead into Shane, his fingers slipping just under his waistband to grab Shane's hip, anchoring himself. Shane takes a breath and starts stroking him in earnest.
"That …" Brendon gasps and Shane's not sure if it's supposed to actually mean anything but he doesn't stop.
Shane always feels like he's in the shadowlands of Brendon's psyche, the place in the middle where Brendon feels the right and wrong on either side, where he lets his guard down but still expects his trust to be betrayed.
He doesn't know how to say any of that though, so he puts his mouth in Brendon's hair, making a noise to let him know how much he likes doing this. It's the truth, too, because now he's also hard.
Brendon breathes hard against Shane's bicep and grips his hip when Shane adjusts his grip from a hard, closed-fisted jerk to a loose, thumb-finger slide slipping over the ridge around the head of his cock on every up-stroke. Brendon's been easy for a hand-job for as long as Shane's known him and even if it's been several weeks since he's done this, he hasn't forgotten what works. He tries to shut off his brain and focus on the tension in his hand, ignoring the ache in his shoulder and keeping his movement consistent.
"Fuck. Shane…" Brendon presses his face hard into Shane's arm. He grunts a pathetically adorable little 'hah-hah!' his knees pull up slightly and then he comes. It's kind of mess but Shane could care less about the newly cleaned bedding as much as it pleases him that it looks like Brendon hasn't come in awhile.
Brendon rolls onto his back and now, for some reason, Shane feels self-conscious. It makes no sense because he's still dressed while Brendon's completely naked, his come still streaked wet on the fabric between them and dripping down the back of Shane's hand but Shane isn't sure where this goes next. If this was a film, he'd get naked and they'd continue.
Brendon proves himself the anti-hero when he puts his hand on his stomach.
"Okay, I'm fucking starving." He peeks open tired eyes. "Eat now, please, yes?"
Shane laughs. "Yeah, come on."
He's pouring the food from the cartons onto plates when Brendon comes in, wearing boxers and one of Shane's t-shirts, and he's carrying Dylan.
"Look at this pretty puppy I found," he says in an lovey-talk voice that gets Dylan all excited, wagging her tail, trying to lick him.
"And here I thought she was the one who found something pretty." Shane bites his lip after he says it but he sees Brendon grin at the compliment and he puts his chin on Shane's shoulder, looking over at the food. He opens his mouth with an 'aah' and Shane puts a forkful of Huli Huli Chicken in his mouth.
"Oh, mah gaw," Brendon muffles as he chews and puts Dylan down quickly. "Gimme more."
Shane laughs and feeds him a bite of Curry this time. Brendon approves with a moan and then they sit on the stools and eat at the breakfast bar.
"You need to do laundry?" Shane asks, tugging on his shirt that Brendon's wearing.
"Nah, most of the shit in my suitcase is clean. Zack did laundry before we left."
They giggle because Zack doing their laundry is never not amusing.
"Hey, look, we have real plates!" Brendon taps on the dish with the prongs of his fork now that the food is clear, a questioning frown on his face. "These are new, right? We didn't have these before."
"Yep. Your mom and Kara brought 'em. They didn't like how we were killing the environment with Chinet. There's bowls and glasses and all that, too," he waves at the cabinets, "I mentioned it in email."
"Oh, right. I gotta call them this week sometime…" Brendon says, his voice suddenly quiet and he gazes at the plates as though his entire familial connection is represented in the curry-smeared plate.
"You busy this week?" Shane asks, poking Brendon's calf with his big toe and then hooking his heel around Brendon's ankle. He'd asked before on the phone, but Brendon couldn't ever be pegged down for an answer.
"Yeah. Gonna work out some new arrangements tomorrow."
"Okay. I've got work, too."
Brendon nods and, already, Shane can see how his mind is half gone into the music they'll be making but his shoulders are slumped and his eyes are dark.
Shane gives him a minute and opens another beer before Brendon yawns again, so big that his eyes water.
"You should go on to bed."
Brendon nods but looks reluctant, like he's afraid he'll miss something if he goes to bed.
"I gotta take the trash out so Dylan doesn't get into it."
"'kay." He slides off the stool and starts to leave when he stops short. "Hey, you know where my car keys are?" he asks.
"Junk drawer in the kitchen," Shane tells him, pulling the plastic garbage liner out of the can. "Dude, you know where would be a good place to keep keys?"
Brendon pauses with a blank face and then grins. "A Key Table?"
"Exactly."
Shane spends the evening working at his desk in the corner of the bedroom while Brendon sleeps. The hours since they ate their early dinner have slipped away until it becomes dark, the light of his monitor now glowing cold-blue in the room. He's long grown accustomed to the quiet sound of Brendon's snore, which he only does when he's exhausted like this. Shane replays the segment of footage he's tracking and pets Dylan with his feet where she's curled up under the desk when he notices the quiet in the room.
"Shane?"
He pauses at the question of his name in Brendon's groggy voice and turns his head, listening not for what Brendon says but for how he says it.
"Hey..."
Shane turns back to the screen and clicks to save his project while rubbing a hand over his mouth and jaw, hiding away a smile. This is what he's been waiting for. Waiting for Brendon to call him, to want him.
He stands at the side of the bed, still seeing spots as his eyes adjust to the darkness, and feels Brendon reach for him. His hands slip under the hem of Shane's shirt and he drags his bottom lip across the skin above Shane's navel. When Brendon starts rubbing Shane's dick through his pants, he unbuttons his shirt from the top button and when it's completely undone, Brendon gets up onto his knees at the edge of the bed, gripping Shane's ribs while he's licks over one nipple. There's a demanding kind of voracity to Brendon's manner, though it's not hurried. Shane's shirt falls to the carpet and he works to unbutton and unzip his pants around Brendon's hand where he's still rubbing him.
Once Shane's undressed, they rotate so that Brendon is standing and Shane lays back on the bed, his knees bent over the edge. It's no surprise that Brendon gets into the drawer in the nightstand. He’d figured, been hoping, that Brendon would want to fuck once he got some rest.
"Shit!" he gasps into the dark when he feels Brendon's mouth on his cock without preamble. "Fu-uck…" He hisses again, only this time it's directed with a hint of reprimand, poking Brendon with his toe as he raises his bent knee and rests his foot on the edge of the bed.
Brendon sort of laughs low, rumbling the sound around Shane's cock as he sucks hard. Shane just stares at the shadows on the ceiling that he's grown accustomed to looking up at when he's jerking off and wishing that Brendon was in bed and doing this. He's just beginning to relax his legs, letting them fall apart, when Brendon slides his fingers back from his balls and presses the pad of a split-slick finger over his hole once, once again, and then presses in.
"Ah," Shane whimpers, and while it was sudden, it was still gentle. Brendon's never been a careless lover with him - self-indulgent, maybe - but never careless. He feels chills run up his body, curling his toes and flexing his muscles around the finger, but then gets lost in the way Brendon's mouth moves on his cock. It's not a steady pace; Brendon bobs, then sucks the head and licks the tip and he's all over the place with teasing, not really trying to get Shane off and he realizes with a jolt why that is when Brendon slides another finger along side the first.
"God, Brendon …" he moans, a little annoyed to hear that the high pitch of his voice sounds less surprised by this and more yes, yes! than he really meant. Not that he minds this, he doesn't mind at all, but getting fucked is something he usually likes to be mentally prepared for.
Brendon pulls his mouth off and kisses the inside of his thigh and then reaches over, handing Shane a condom.
"Can you open that for me, please?" Brendon asks, still working his fingers slowly, and Shane almost laughs at how he can be so polite about asking for help with the wrapper when he's neglected to ask Shane if he could fuck him in the first place.
Still, it's Brendon, and few of Shane's rules ever apply.
Brendon pulls his hand away to roll on the condom and Shane sits up to watch, just barely making out the shadow of the action in the dark. He's a little breathless, incredibly turned on, and while the stretch of Brendon's fingers have made him want this, there's still a flutter of nervous apprehension in him. Maybe it's the smell of the latex that triggers his sense memory, but whatever it is, Shane sits up further and reaches for Brendon.
"Hey. Hey…" Brendon whispers, bending to kiss him for the first time since he called Shane to him. "Brendon's here," Brendon says softly against his mouth, and it's such a weird third person thing to say. Shane's never quite understood why he does that, but he knows that it's well intended regardless. Brendon doesn't stop kissing him while he covers himself with lube and when Shane lays back, he closes his eyes as Brendon presses into him.
He holds his breath for a moment as every part of his body tenses and he takes quiet, shallow breaths as he relaxes in tiny measures. Brendon can feel him begin to relax and pushes just a little deeper before he begins to move with quick, steady thrusts and Shane tries to lose himself in it but it's too rough this soon and he grips his fingers into Brendon's hips, hard. Brendon hisses, pausing and twisting slightly from Shane's pinching fingers without completely pulling out.
"Slow down, huh?" Shane says, smoothing his hands over where his fingers dug in. "Just … I'm not going anywhere."
Brendon lowers onto him, weight on his elbows, pressing in slow and deep, but he puts his mouth on Shane's neck. "'m sorry. Sure," Brendon says between kisses and they don't stop moving after that. It doesn't feel like simple fucking and maybe there aren't enough words to classify it, but he knows that Brendon is loving him the best way he knows how.
~
Shane hears faint strumming and then subsequent plinking on the keyboard before he even opens his eyes. He stretches and adjusts himself, evaluating the deep, dull ache in his muscles, reminders of the long awaited sex from last night and then sleeping in positions that were less than comfortable but allowed him to keep a hand or foot on Brendon at all times. He puts a hand to his half hard dick and realizes it's the first morning in a long time that he hasn't automatically beat off upon waking. He wishes that Brendon was still in bed so they could do it together but thinks that Brendon's probably been up for a few hours since he'd slept so much yesterday and then he realizes how late it must be already.
"Shit, shit, shit," he whispers as he rolls out of bed. He pees, brushes his teeth and finds cleans clothes in the laundry basket in the closet. He'd washed it all, but folding and putting it away wasn't something he'd managed to get done. The only reason the basket is in the closet was because he's wanted the room to look clean for Brendon.
God, maybe he really is a happy homemaker.
Shane finds him in the next bedroom, the only one that Brendon had unpacked before going on tour again. He pauses in his rush and leans against the door frame, watching and listening to him play for a moment. He's only wearing turquoise boxer-briefs, the elastic settling just below the dimples above his ass. He's really pale but has a notable farmer's tan on his arms and the back of his neck. Shane recognizes a few chords but the melody goes from sounding vaguely bluesy into something country and then he knows Brendon's just fucking around so he goes over and hugs Brendon's head to his chest, giving him a playful shake before he leans down to kiss him.
"Hey," Brendon says, chuckling and raising his chin, kissing at the air in Shane's general direction before looking back down at the fret board.
"Yo, not on." Shane protests and puts his hand on Brendon's cheek, who looks at him with a surprised expression behind his black-framed glasses. "C'mere."
They kiss with closed mouths then, pressing together a few times before pulling away and then Shane can see that he's finally got Brendon's attention.
"Morning."
"Hi." Brendon stands, puts his guitar down and follows Shane into the kitchen. "You work today, right?" he asks. "I couldn't remember. Didn't know if I should get you up."
"Yeah. Won't be all day, just have to turn in release forms and check out a location and blah - boring shit."
"Cool. Whatever you gotta. The guys are coming later."
"Sure. Oh, uh, so I bought a table for the entryway online last night. Should be delivered today."
"Okay." Brendon making faces at Dylan, trying to bait her into barking at him.
"You make any coffee?"
Brendon shakes his head, yawning, which in turn makes Shane yawn, too, and when Brendon sees it, he laughs. "Ha - gave it to you! Oh, but, no. I didn't know where the filters and stuff were."
"They are, shockingly enough," Shane opens the cabinet door, "right above the coffee maker."
"Oh. Heh, look, they're right there."
Shane rolls his eyes and sniffs, pulling his cap low on his head and putting on his shades. "I don't have time anyway. Got to go."
They're so used to casual goodbyes and being apart that they keep their distance but Shane reminds himself that they're together now and turns back around. He ducks his head against Brendon's neck and doesn't so much hug as just lean against him, trapping Brendon between himself and the countertop. Brendon laughs quietly, hugging Shane to him, slipping fingertips under his hat and rubbing the back of his skull.
"I'll be here when you get back."
"Mph," Shane grunts and then makes himself pull away. He's always having to pull away.
~^~
When Shane pulls into the driveway hours later, the furniture delivery truck is just pulling away. He walks inside and almost walks right back out again just to make sure he's got the right address.
The tables and leather couches are pushed against the walls and crowding into the open dining room and the entire space has been replaced with two thirds of a drum kit, amps, and a maze wires all flanked with guitars sitting or propped everywhere.
"Hey, man," Jon greets as he comes out of the kitchen with a bottle in each hand. "Now we can start the party. Ah, let me offer you one of your own beers." Jon looks a little sheepish as he hands it over.
"Thanks." They exchange an easy one-armed hug as he takes it. "You guys have been busy," he says, after they twist the caps off and drink, surveying the disaster around them.
"Yeah, well. Break time now. Trashing your place and drinking your beer is tiring, you know? And Spence had to get his Mario Kart fix - it's been a few days. Brendon said there was a Fa-Filab," Jon has to try three times before he gets it right, "- Filibertos?"
Shane's pretty used to Jon's babbling but it still makes him giggle. "Mexican food, yeah. It's not far."
"How ya doing, brother?" Spencer comes around the corner and approaches for a hug but at the last minute, Shane covers his face and sneezes.
"Wow, gross." Spencer laughs a little. "Bless you?"
"Sorry," Shane snuffles behind his hand as he grabs a tissue from the box on the counter and blows his nose. "Forgot my allergy meds this morning."
"Don't you get shots for that?"
"I do. Twice a month and I still need meds everyday. Jesus."
Spencer gives him an incredulous but fond smirk and then looks out to the patio where Brendon is playing with Dylan while Ryan is walking around with an acoustic guitar. "I can't believe you even got a dog with an allergy that bad."
Shane pops the chalky tablet into his mouth, chases it with his Coors Light, and sniffs again, hoping the itch in his sinuses goes away soon.
"Yeah, but Brendon wanted one." Maybe that's not a concise enough reason for some people but he figures Spencer understands when he shrugs and nods.
"Right."
"Shane!" Brendon shouts as he comes in, carrying Dylan. "Ryan's gonna eat our dog!"
"I only said I was hungry." Ryan trails inside after him, voice quiet in his protest.
"Hey, Ryan, good to see you," Shane says, going to hug him which always seems to surprise Ryan. "I'll go pick up food. Don't eat my dog, man."
Ryan laughs silently and ducks his head. "I won't."
Shane wanders over to Brendon and pets Dylan, using her as an excuse to crowd into Brendon's space. It's not that they hide themselves in front of the other guys but they've never given them the chance to be dicks about the situation either.
"Hi," Shane says, wiping his nose again. Brendon raises her towards Shane who promptly sneezes again.
"Allergies?" Brendon asks, turning Dylan away a little bit with an overtly concerned face, eyes wide.
"Nah. Smog is high today."
"Yeah? Okay…" Brendon keeps looking at him with an anxious expression though.
"I hear you want Filibertos?"
Brendon beams at the change of topic and nods. "I told Jon about the shrimp tacos."
"I need shrimp tacos!" Jon shouts from the living room with the vague intonation of "Show me the money!"
"You got it."
He's dutifully putting his hat and glasses back on when Brendon says, "Spencer will go with you."
There's no reason at all why Spencer wouldn't, or shouldn't come with him, except that Brendon's saying as much seems out of place and the oddity is confirmed by the fleeting glare of frustration Spencer shoots at him.
He shakes his head and smirks when he says, "Yeah, I'll come with."
"Okay..." Shane glances at Brendon as he goes out but he just gives him a cheesy smile and waves.
Spencer clears his throat in car before talking. Shane likes that Spencer doesn't bullshit around. "Your boyfriend's an idiot."
Shane laughs out loud at that, too loud and high pitched, but he really wasn't expecting that. Both because Spencer is pretty careful and specific about his words and also because none of them really talk about he and Brendon being together.
"I mean, it's not a big deal, but he's gone and made it a big deal now," Spencer continues.
"What's not a big deal?"
"I wanna go ahead get in on the project with you."
Shane’s brain immediately floods with ideas for Realm but he tries to stay on topic because he doesn't think that's the point of this particular discussion. "Okay. That's awesome, dude."
"Yeah, so, um. So, Ryan's been talking about moving to L.A. forever and we're taking a break after this tour, so-"
"A break? A from touring kind of break?"
"Yeah. This is the last one for a while. We need the time off. Put together some new shit."
"Right." Shane is glad he's got the driving to focus on because he's still hung up on 'break' and that means Brendon will be staying home.
"Anyway, so, I'm keeping my house at home so I need-"
"Well you're staying with us, right?"
"I talked with Brendon about that. Thought I should ask you."
"Well you're wrong. And dumb, if you thought you had to ask."
That makes Spencer smile and look out the window.
"I'd help with rent and all. Whatever,"
"Totally," Shane thinks about what it will really be like to have Spencer there for more than just a couple of days. "You know we're slobs, right? Probably not the easiest people to live with."
But the thing is, Shane isn't a slob. Not really. And there's not much about Brendon that Spencer doesn't already know, but that's not really what he's talking about.
"Your house, man. I'm a guest. Don't change anything for my benefit."
"Your house, too."
"I appreciate that, but really, I don't want put you guys out. You don't have to do anything different for me. I'm cool with whatever, you know?"
Shane nods as he looks over his shoulder before making a turn and he knows that Spencer's not really talking about their cleaning habits either.
~
Shane spends much of the evening retreating into the shadows as the band works. Sometimes they argue but mostly they laugh, talking to each other in a half-language of in jokes and music-speak. Laying his head back, he watches smoke curl towards ceiling in a beam of light from the kitchen.
He's got one leg tucked underneath him and Brendon, who's been walking around with his Taylor, sits down close enough that he's just to the inside of Shane's bent knee in the V of his thighs. The head of the guitar is crossing right in front of Shane's face and he watches Brendon down strum through a chord progression and when he recognizes it, he leans forward. Peeking over Brendon's shoulder, he reaches under the neck of the guitar and Brendon moves his left hand to let Shane grip the frets.
"This?" Shane asks.
"Yeah." Brendon smiles as he strums once and then watches as Shane rearranges his fingers for the second chord.
"And?"
Brendon strums it out. "You got it."
"And then …" Shane tries to remember the last one, the tendons in the back of his hand already straining at the awkwardness as he presses his ring finger to the third string.
"Nuh-uh" Brendon jerks his head and Shane moves his fingertip to the second string and then Brendon nods, strumming it out. "There. Do it again," Brendon tells him, catching Shane's eyes just for a second before looking patiently at Shane's hand. They go through the progression again, halting for Shane's clumsy fingers on the strings, but on the third time, Shane does it with ease and Brendon beams at him.
"Awesome."
"Totally." Shane looks at Brendon's mouth and wants to kiss him. He puts his tongue to his own bottom lip and almost does, but his thoughts must show because Brendon makes a face at him and then kind of scrunches his nose. It's not much as far as communication goes, but Shane takes it as a promise for later.
Once they more or less agree on the new arrangements and Brendon has sung Shout! so many times that he's lost enthusiasm for it, Spence calls for the driver. They aren't 'home' so their expenses are still covered by the tour.
Goodbyes are brief because they'll all be back by the end of the week but Shane shares a nod of mutual understanding with Spencer as he goes. He stands in the doorway and waits until the Excursion pulls away, waving once more before shutting the door.
Brendon, long since shirtless, is by the entertainment unit putting on some music, still whistling the same melody that's looping in Shane's head. He rubs over his eyebrows as he carefully picks his way through the strewn equipment on the living room floor and sits on the couch. He'd rather have silence right now after hearing them play all night - actual drums in his living room, thank you - but the music starts and it's uncomplicated and quiet, an almost seductive rhythm in the bass line.
Dylan comes sniffing into the room, her ears and tail showing her unease at the disrupted furniture.
"They're all gone, now," Brendon tells her, picking her up. "C'mere, girl."
Shane sits almost sideways with his back against the armrest and his legs wide apart. Brendon sits right in front of him and leans against Shane's chest. It's exactly how Shane has wanted him all night and his hands immediately wrap around Brendon's chest. He puts his mouth to Brendon's shoulder and doesn't even kiss, but slides his parted lips over the freckles to the base of Brendon's neck and then sucks, darting his tongue over the skin.
"Ah!" Brendon squeaks, squirming a little, which makes Dylan wriggle in his arms. Shane squeezes him a little tighter and sucks harder. He doesn't usually leave hickey marks like this. He's not quite sure why the impulse struck him, but when he pulls his mouth away, he makes a satisfied 'hm' at the sight of the little purple half-heart marking Brendon's skin.
"You jerk," Brendon says with a rumbling laugh in his voice, nudging Shane with his elbow. "Okay, pretty-puppy, down you go." He lets Dylan lick his chin once before leaning down to put her on the floor.
Shane keeps one hand on Brendon's hip and when Brendon situates himself back against Shane's chest, he holds him close. He makes a loose fist and runs the pad of his thumb up the centerline of Brendon's abdomen and chest a few times until Brendon relaxes his head on the couch above Shane's shoulder.
"You tired?" Shane asks, he doesn't really think he is, just making conversation. He opens his hand and rubs his four fingers along the soft grooves of Brendon's ribs, strong enough so that it won't tickle but careful not to dig his fingertips.
"Nah, 'm good."
"'kay."
He rests his cheek on the curve of Brendon's shoulder and neck and pushes at the elastic of his boxers, first one side, then the next, stretching the fabric over his soft cock. Brendon arches just a little to accommodate him but Shane doesn't try to get them off, just leaves them stretched around his upper thighs, pushed far enough to leave him exposed.
Brendon relaxes, going still and heavy with his head back and eyes closed. Shane takes in the sight of him; sparse freckles standing out against fair skin, the slight tan line on his arms, the black hair curling soft around his cock. Brendon's abdomen flutters under Shane's slow moving hand. Shane doesn't touch his dick, though; he wants to watch him get hard.
"You directing porn in your head again?" Brendon accuses.
"I don't do that," he lies, because he totally does. He'd direct awesome porn. Classy porn with good music.
Shane feels the nub of Brendon's nipple under his palm while he kisses his neck again. With a fingertip, he circles the puckering pink skin, watching Brendon's cock twitch and rise until it strains upward with every sweep of Shane's other hand across his belly.
Brendon whines a little before the unhappy sounds turns into a growl.
"'Come on, jerk, touch me," Brendon grumbles, wriggling a little but not quite pressing against Shane's hard-on.
"Nuh-uh." Shane shakes his head, his lips still against Brendon's shoulder while he slips his hand along the crease of Brendon's thigh and his balls until his cock flexes once before resting against his stomach again.
"If, I mean, what if I kinda want to take you over my new table over there?" Shane holds Brendon in place while he presses upward, gaining a little friction against Brendon's ass.
Brendon raises his head and opens his eyes, heavy-lidded but amused as he smirks down at him.
"Is the new Key Table really just sex furniture?"
"Well, it's multi-purpose."
"Very practical. Of course."
Shane tongues over the purpling hickey he left earlier. "That okay?"
Brendon giggles, mostly silent, but Shane feels the way his body shakes with it and feels him tense just before leaning forward and standing. "After last night? I guess it's only fair, right?" He lets his boxers-briefs fall the rest of the way to the floor and steps out of them.
Shane puts a heel on the couch to prop his elbow on his knee, cheek against his hand while he squeezes his dick with his other hand.
"Hey, we don't do paybacks, remember?" he reminds Brendon, watching him walk comfortably, completely naked, across the mess of the living room and stand in front of the entryway table. He leans forward and puts both hands on the surface, parts his feet slightly, and then slowly turns his head over his shoulder. He can't quite make the eye contact at this angle but the communication is clear.
Shane can't deny there's part of himself that likes the show Brendon can put on. He gets the focus of every photograph and film, always at center stage, Shane feels a sort of kinship to every Hollywood director who married his star - there's a reason that happens.
He gets up and walks forward, watching how the lines in Brendon's back shift, his ass flexes, and he tilts his head back, breathing deep in anticipation.
"You'd really do anything I asked, wouldn't you?" he says against Brendon's spine, hands on his hips.
"You are the director…" Brendon drags out his words in snarky sarcasm.
Shane bends down and sets his teeth against Brendon's ribs, his waist and then to the curve of his ass, not even biting, just teasing nips which make Brendon squawk and jump.
"We're absolutely doing this," Shane stands and nudges Brendon until he turns around. "Someday."
He holds Brendon's face in his hands to kiss him, a little dry and a lot scratchy from their unshaven growth.
Brendon dips his fingers into Shane's jeans, pulling him forward by the waistband. "What, not now?"
Shane kisses him again before taking a step backwards. "Let's go to our room."
Hotel rooms, bus bunks, dressing rooms, bathroom stalls; Brendon's had some kind of sex in every kind of location, but Shane doesn't want to be another creative sexual experience in this bizarre life they lead. The least they can have is a comfortable bed when they can have it.
Shane walks ahead of Brendon down the hall and strips off his shirt as he goes. He opens his pants just inside the doorway, Brendon running his fingers over Shane's lower belly as walks past.
"No, go lay down, baby. Go on," he says to Dylan as he closes the bedroom door, shutting her out.
"She's gonna hate me," Brendon says, tugging the tangled mess of sheet and comfortable off the bed.
"She won't. And she'd just whine at us if we let her watch anyway." They know this from experience and it's distracting at best. Shane pushes his jeans and boxers from around his feet while Brendon grabs the bottle of Eros and a condom.
"We're almost out," Brendon says over his shoulder, flipping a condom by the corner.
"New box in the bathroom."
"Cool, you think of everything - oh, hi!" Brendon startles, not expecting Shane to be so close already, muttering "Hi there," against his neck as he moves them onto the bed.
They lie on their sides facing each other and while kissing isn't the easiest this way with arms trapped between them, Brendon throws his leg over Shane's, which is perfect for touching. For the first time tonight, he finally takes Brendon's cock in hand, giving him slow, short pulls. Brendon reaches back for the Eros and squeezes some into Shane's hand cupped around his dick.
They take their time, rolling around together, Brendon on top, thrusting against him, until they roll again so that Shane can settle between his legs. He reaches down, kissing on Brendon's collarbone as he slides his hand along his cock, cups and pulls carefully at his balls before sliding his slick fingers further back. He draws a teasing circle until Brendon arches against his hand with a dry "Yeah."
Brendon clings an arm around Shane's shoulders, one hand pressing the back of Shane's head keeping his mouth firmly against Brendon's throat while he moves his fingers. He uses one inside of him, barely moving, and then presses two at once.
"Okay, jesus, let's do this already. Shit," Brendon mutters, swearing again as he pushes Shane's hand away.
Shane stands at the side of the bed, tears the corner of the plastic square with his teeth because his hands are so slick and he only half concentrates on rolling the tight condom onto his dick because he's also watching Brendon finger himself and rub a thumb over the head of cock with his other. Shane bites his lip, smiling, watching Brendon's small hands work himself with his eyes closed.
"Um." He puts a hand on Brendon's ankle and he opens his eyes. "Come down here."
"'kay."
Brendon scoots closer and then swings his legs off the side of the bed, rolling over onto his stomach, lying onto the mattress. The irony of a position like this is how it's generally assumed submissive but Shane knows better because it's his knees that go weak. "God … damn," he breathes and Brendon kind of laughs, a smug little purr deep in chest. He has every reason to be, really.
He slides a finger in and then out as he aligns himself and Brendon goes completely quiet until Shane pushes forward.
"Oh, god. Fuck, Brendon," Shane groans, struggling to go slow and stay aware of Brendon's responses. "Bren?"
"Yeah. Shut up. Just."
He gives in and gives up and pulls back before pressing in further, slow and firm. They groan in tandem and Shane bends low over him, wrapping arms around Brendon's chest before fucking him with steady, shallow thrusts.
Shane pauses after a minute, already out of breath, his chest sticking to Brendon's sweat damp back. He stands up, sliding his hands down Brendon's torso until they grip onto the curves of his hips and he arches back. "This is so good."
Brendon turns his head, pressing his cheek into the bed, groaning, but he's got a faint smile on his face.
He keeps a steady pace until they're both breathless again and Shane pulls out slowly, stroking more Eros onto the condom before climbing onto the bed after Brendon, who lies on his back and pulls his knees up as Shane settles over him.
He slides in easily this time but the tight friction still pulls a guttural "gah-hahadd" from his throat and he chuckles at the same time.
Brendon bucks up and writhes with it, too, but his eyes are closed and his head is turned away and hands are gripping the sheets.
"Hey, you." Shane settles his weight on his knees and elbows. He's pressed so fully inside and his mouth is so close to Brendon's face that getting his attention is an easy feat, though his expression is still a little hazy and disconnected. "You with me here? This okay?" He knows how easy it is for Brendon to mentally check out during sex, to let it be one-sided, giving his body but not the rest of himself, and that's just not good enough. If Shane had to pick between the two, he'd invert the equation, but he's a greedy fuck and he wants it all.
"Th's awesome." Brendon releases his grip on the bedding and Shane feels them wrap around his lower back, one hand sliding down to knead his ass and pull him closer, deeper. "You love me," Brendon finally says, almost laughing as he does. He's not seriously questioning, not really, but his eyes still look little hopeful to hear it confirmed. Shane looks away from that look because Brendon can still make his breath catch - he'd never say that out loud, but it's true. Instead, he drops his head to press his cheek to Brendon's heart as he rocks into him and says, "I do."
They don't talk again and it's a long while before they're done, panting and moving together, swearing filthy words when climax can no longer be prolonged, and that's when Brendon finally goes utterly, beautifully silent.
Shane lays on him in a messy, boneless heap, feeling Brendon follow the design on his forearm until he's worried about squashing him.
"Be right back," he whispers and Brendon clings to him for a second before letting him go.
After cleaning up in the bathroom, he opens the door to let Dylan in. She skulks past with her tail down, looking resentful for having been left out.
"Hi, pretty girl," Brendon says through a yawn, watching her jump onto the end of the bed where she curls into a ball and puts her chin on the bed, glaring them with petulant eyes.
Brendon snuggles into Shane as he crawls back into bed.
"Spencer told me earlier, last tour for awhile, huh?"
Brendon nods against his neck and Shane smoothes down the hair that tries to stick up his nose. "For awhile. I don't know, try being home for awhile?"
"Sounds good. I'll teach you to surf."
"I know how to surf!" Brendon pokes at him but then starts to trace his finger over Shane's tattoo again. "And I'll be home for the holidays and all that."
"Sweet. You busy this week then?"
"Video shoot this weekend. And recording that song - hey, you wanna come with?"
"Sure. Think they'll let me film?"
"Same as always probably."
"…They tell me no and I do it anyway?"
Brendon giggles. "Hey, let's put in a movie and go to sleep."
"Go frit."
Brendon starts to hop up to put in a DVD - Shane's not even gonna ask what - but he pulls him down for another quick kiss first. He pauses at the edge of the bed, looking at Dylan. "Think we could get another puppy? For Dylan. So she has a friend."
For Dylan, yeah right. Shane thinks briefly how that might mean three shots a month instead of two, but it's small enough price.
"Another puppy would be cool. As soon as you get home - and you get to crate train this time."
Brendon crawls into bed and butts Shane with the top of his head before setting in next to him. "Okay."
"'kay. Whatever you want, B," Shane says as he closes his eyes and yawns when the overture of The Little Mermaid begins.
He drifts into light sleep, waking every time Brendon shifts, but he finds Shane's hand under the sheet and holds it, resting it on his thigh.
~