Fic: A Lifetime Commitment
Title: A Lifetime Commitment
Author: ficsoreal
Pairing: Brendon-centric, background Pete/Patrick, implied Ryan/Brendon
Rating: R
Words: 7022
Summary: Brendon’s seen the type of guys wearing Greek letters across their chests and they’re more likely to shove his head into a toilet than welcome him into their fraternity.
Warnings: This story has warnings that I'm not going to post but take that into consideration before you click the link. Have one of your friends read it first if you are leery.
A/N: I do belong to a sorority and I pulled from personal experience a lot but all sororities and fraternities are different. Fabulous Beta by megyal . All remaining mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: This is a fictional representation of real people; none of this is true and if it is, I did not know about it.
Brendon wakes up and immediately starts struggling when someone slaps a salty hand over his open mouth. He kicks out wildly and the intruder is not alone, because someone else quickly loops a cloth of some sort around his head, haphazardly covering his eyes, half of his nose and a piece of his ear before tying it around the back of his head. He frantically tries to remember if he left his door unlocked and no, he’s sure he locked it before going to bed which means somehow they got the key or picked the lock or his bastard roommate let them in, but that can’t be the case because his roommate went home for the weekend. He tries to bite the hand over his mouth and it’s snatched away with a whispered, “Fuck,” and Brendon manages to get out, “What the- “ before something foul is being stuff into his mouth and another piece of fabric is being wrapped around his lower face.
“Make sure he can breathe.”
“He can breathe, dickface.”
Brendon doesn’t recognize the voices, either because he’s going insane or his kidnappers are using something to disguise them. His heart is racing like a hamster on one of those stupid spinning wheels and he bumps his head against the door frame as they wrestle him out of the door. Brendon has no idea what is going on, but he did not sign up for this shit.
**
Brendon’s grateful that he doesn’t have to go through that aimless freshman wandering where he tries to find someone that will tolerate him until he makes some real friends. He manages to get all of his belongings into his new dorm room without any help and has barely taken five steps out of the front door before he hears his name being said by someone that’s either terribly bored or has a pretty fierce monotone. He turns toward the sound and immediately breaks out into a grin. “Ryan!”
Ryan grimaces at his enthusiastic shout because he’s apparently too cool for shouting but comes over to greet him regardless. He says, “Brent didn’t tell me that you’d be starting school here this semester.”
“It was a last minute decision.” Brendon shrugs, not wanting to get into the details. Ryan’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t press. Brendon’s only met Ryan a couple of times while he was hanging out with Brent; he remembers thinking that Ryan was pretty cute in an odd duck sort of way. He never tried to get to know Ryan better because Ryan was always a bit standoffish and his best friend or whatever kept shooting daggers at Brendon anytime he wandered too close. Brendon pastes on a smile. “What are you doing hanging around the freshmen dorms?”
“I’m supposed to be helping people move in.” Ryan had been leaning against a tree looking put upon before he ambled over to talk to Brendon.
“Well, I’m pretty much finished moving in my stuff; I didn’t have a lot, but you can totally pretend to help me if you want to avoid being roped into helping that kid.” Brendon points toward the truck, car and van that just pulled up to the curb. A blond haired boy that was clearly rich and pampered exited the car and started issuing orders.
Ryan looks over and makes a quick decision. “Deal.”
Brendon beams and gives himself a quick pep talk about not annoying the only person he knows on the whole campus. He leads Ryan to his room on the third floor and plops down on his hastily made bed. Ryan pulls up one of the chairs provided by the university and looks around perfunctorily, not looking particularly curious until his eyes fall on Brendon’s guitar. He asks, “You play?”
“Yeah, guitar, piano and I tinker with some other instruments.” Brendon has a moment of panic wondering if that came out as bragging before Ryan nods his head and says, “Cool. I play a little.”
Brendon’s just about to say, “We should jam together sometime,” when a knock sounds at the door and a short, brown haired guy pokes his head into the door. He says, “Hey, I’m Jon, your RA. If you need anything, I’m down the hall in the last room on the right, the one that says, “Your Master and Overlord lives here.” The guy smiles and actually looks at the two of them, eyes widening in recognition when they land on Ryan. “Ryan, dude, what are you doing sitting around in here? Picking up the newbies or hiding from the hard labor? Don’t think I won’t bust your ass when you try to list this as community service.”
Ryan just waves his hand at Jon, unconcerned with his threats. “We’re just taking a quick break. It’s hot outside.”
Jon rolls his eyes in disbelief. “Sure, I believe that, you delicate flower. Just remember there are eyes everywhere.” Jon closes the door behind him and Brendon can hear him shouting down the hall at some unknown person.
“Is he a friend of yours?”
Ryan shrugs. “Jon’s cool. You’ll have a good time with him as your RA.” Brendon notices that he never really answers the question but Ryan asks him something about the other instruments he plays and the question is forgotten.
**
“Dude if you want to be the best, you need to sign your name right here, fucker! No One is Better than a Beta Brother!”
Brendon dodges around the green clad guy shoving a flyer at him and tries to weave his way across the pavilion to his class. He’s been hearing people whispering about Rush all week and he doesn’t think it’s quite for him. He’s seen the type of guys wearing Greek letters across their chests and they’re more likely to shove his head into a toilet than welcome him into their fraternity. He’s almost past the rows and rows of brightly colored tables and teaming crowds of eager students trying to appear cool when he hears Jon yelling his name.
He looks over to find Jon with his best friend, Tom, standing behind one of the recruiting tables Brendon’s been trying to avoid on the treacherous journey to class. Brendon’s gotten to know Jon as well as a freshman can get to know an upperclassman and Jon’s exactly as cool as Ryan said he was; all Brendon knows about Tom is that he’s Jon’s best friend. Jon waves him over and Tom leans over to whisper something in his ear that makes Jon elbow him in the stomach and makes Brendon want to keep on walking but Jon gestures and yells again and Brendon turns on his heel and heads over.
Jon grins widely at him. “Not participating in Rush, Brendon?”
Brendon shrugs his shoulders and tries not to pay attention to Tom staring at the side of his head; Tom makes him nervous. “I don’t think it’s my kind of thing.”
“You don’t like frat boys? I thought you liked me, Brendon?” And Jon’s pout is so ridiculously exaggerated that even Tom laughs a little.
“You know I love you, Jon Walker,” Brendon rushes to reassure him, “it’s just that my experiences with large groups of guys have not been fun exactly."
Tom coughs and Jon hits him on the back harder than necessary in Brendon’s opinion. Jon says, “This is the first year Tom and I have been named Recruiting Chairs; you don’t want us to have low numbers do you?” Brendon looks down at the stacks of applications littering the table and raises a skeptical eyebrow. Jon smiles at him. “Quality recruits, Brendon.”
“Why,” Tom says in an innocent voice, blue eyes wide, “the only quality name that we’re sure of is Ryan.”
“Ryan’s going through Rush?” Brendon’s surprised and it shows in his voice. Jon elbows Tom again and Brendon really doesn’t know how Tom’s ribs have survived their long friendship.
Jon wraps a broad hand around the back of his neck and looks sheepish. “We’re not really supposed to say who’s signed up, but I guess we can tell you since the two of you are so close. Think about it; you could be line brothers and that’s the best thing ever, isn’t it, Tom?
Tom nods dutifully. “Being Jon’s line brother completed me; it’s just like we got married, our bond is so tight.”
Brendon’s eyes widen and he says, “I don’t know…”
Jon says, “Just fill out this form. There’s no guarantee that you will even get a bid on Bid Day, do it for me. We’ll get in so much trouble if we don’t meet our quota of guys.”
And Brendon is a sucker for sad puppy eyes, so he fills out the little form and rushes off to class trying not to be too late. He almost forgets about the whole thing until Jon stops by his room and tells him to get dressed because the fraternities having a get together to meet all the potential pledges. Brendon says, “I don’t think so, Jon. I just signed up as a favor.”
Jon’s shoulders slump and he wheedles, “I know you’d like the guys if you gave them a chance, would I hang out with total douches?”
“Noooo?” Brendon isn’t sure because Tom is a little mean for his tastes but Jon loves him.
Jon beams. “Well throw on a clean shirt and come the hell on. We’re having karaoke and ice cream.”
Brendon knows it’s useless to fight when Jon’s standing there looking so expectant and at least with Ryan there, he’ll have someone to talk to. He follows Jon down Greek Row until they stop in front of a huge brick mansion. Brendon says, “Wow,” and Jon replies, “Yeah, our alums are totally rich and overly invested; it’s great. Some of the overly invested ones will be here tonight.”
That doesn’t exactly reassure Brendon; with his luck, maybe both upperclassmen and those rich alums will make fun of him. He sighs and follows Jon into the fray; Jon is almost immediately swallowed up into whoops and high fives and apparently Jon is just as popular among his brothers as he is among the dorm residents. Brendon sort of stands around awkwardly until a short, dark haired man with a shitload of tattoos presses a cup into his hand. Brendon says, “Thanks,” and the man laughs a goofy sound and replies, “I’m always nice to people my size,” and Brendon notices that yeah, the other guy is maybe an inch or so taller than him, so tiny. The guy is dragged off before Brendon can strike up a conversation and it’s probably for the best because this way Brendon doesn’t embarrass himself by saying something stupid to the first nice person to speak to him.
“What are you drinking?” Ryan is frowning at the cup in his hand and Brendon totally didn’t hear him approach; Ryan’s obviously some kind of ninja.
Brendon says, “I don’t know,” and Ryan takes the red cup out of his hand and passes him a coke and it’s a toss up in Brendon’s mind which is worse for him to have, caffeine and sugar or alcohol, but he pops the cap and takes a swig. He sees Jon for a second out of the corner of his eye before Jon disappears again and he just kind of stands around beside Ryan, not talking, watching the frat brothers and the other wannabes swarming around and mingling.
Several of the wannabe pledges are trying a bit too hard to be noticed in Brendon’s opinion and Ryan must have been thinking the same thing because he says, “Those guys are acting like fools.”
Brendon nods and turns around to the front of the room where Jon has found a mic somewhere. Jon says, “I would like to take the time to welcome you to the best house on Greek Row, Omega Omega House, THE Be All and End All!” The room erupts into cheers and foot stomping and Jon grins broadly at the room at large before holding up his hands for silence. “We have beer and ice cream and karaoke. Remember to talk to the active members and some of our esteemed alums, because if we don’t know your name, there’s no way we can know if you’re right for us. Now, get to know someone!” Jon hands the mic off to someone and fights his way through the crowd to Brendon and Ryan.
Jon grabs both of them. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He drags them over to the dark haired man that gave Brendon the red cup earlier. He says, “Pete, this is Ryan and Brendon; I was telling you about them earlier.”
Pete smiles widely at them, exposing big, white teeth. His eyes linger on Ryan in a telling way but they’re just as warm when they land on Brendon. He says, “I’ve met little dude,” and bumps his fist against Brendon’s. He asks, “What made you two decide that Omega Omega was for you?” He laughs before they can answer and says, “Because it’s the best house on the yard is totally the right answer by the way.”
Ryan says, “Because it’s the best house on the yard,” in his driest monotone and Pete’s eyes twinkle happily.
He reaches out to touch Ryan’s scarf. “I like you, Ryan, is it?” and Ryan nods. “Where did you get this scarf?" Ryan tells him and they end up following Pete around as he chats with some of the current members and all of the older ones that have come back to vet the potential pledges.
Brendon relaxes enough to forget that this whole thing is some kind of test and the fact that he didn’t even want to be there in the first place. Jon was right and he meets several cool people that don’t attempt to stuff him in some kind of magically appearing locker. Pete seems particularly taken with both him and Ryan and Brendon can see the looks of envy some of the other wannabes are throwing their way and he doesn’t understand it until Ryan leans in close to him and says, “Pete is one of the biggest contributors to the fraternity; he financed more than half of this house and gives huge sums of money each year. He keeps Omega Omega house among the most elite of the fraternities.”
Brendon looks at Pete with new eyes after that; Pete doesn’t seem like he’s that much older than the two of them, but apparently the guy is some kind of business wizard. The party’s getting a little wild and Brendon’s thinking about his bed by the time Tom staggers up to the mic and Brendon’s betting he’s been having more beer than ice cream. Tom slurs into the mic, “Karaoke Time!” and people start cheering again and urging their friends to take the stage.
Another huge cheer goes up when a tiny guy in a hat is pushed to the front and takes the microphone from Tom’s hand. Brendon can understand all the cheering when the short guy opens his mouth and begins to absolutely belt out a song, sweating and waving his hand in the air saucily. Ryan tells him, “That’s Patrick; he’s Pete’s favorite.” Brendon looks around and Pete is indeed riveted to the front of the room watching Patrick work the crowd. When Patrick finishes to lots of applause and some boxer throwing, Pete gives him a huge hug, tucking his face into Patrick’s sweaty neck. Patrick takes the hug, patting Pete awkwardly on the back until he lets go and says something that makes Patrick’s face turn red with something more than exertion.
The performers after that have more enthusiasm than talent, although William shows a fair amount of both. Brendon’s edging toward the door when Jon grabs the mic and says, “There’s someone in the house totally hiding their light under a bushel,” and Brendon only has enough time to wrinkle his forehead before Jon is saying, “Brendon Urie, get your ass up here!”
Brendon’s eyes go wide as everyone swings around to look at him and he turns to Ryan for help but that traitor just smiles at him and pushes him to the front of the crowd. Jon does some quick whispering and button pushing and the beginning notes of a song Brendon knows Jon has heard him singing around the dorm fills the air. Brendon starts off soft but by the end of the first verse, he’s totally hit his stride and people are screaming for him like they screamed for Patrick and William. When the last notes die away, there are three pairs of boxers at his feet and Ryan is staring at him with wide brown eyes. Brendon blushes, embarrassed suddenly and someone yells out, “Omega Omega House is going to own the talent competition this year!”
Brendon recognizes Pete’s braying laugh and then Pete shouts out, “We own it every year! Let’s give Brendon another hand!” and everybody starts clapping and yelling again even Patrick tugged against Pete’s side. Brendon hands Jon the mic and the night goes on from there; Brendon doesn’t make it back to his room until the early morning hours and he thinks before he goes to sleep that if Omega Omega extended him a bid, he would definitely accept.
**
Jon’s been avoiding him all day and Brendon’s not sure what that means. His stomach churns during all his classes and afterwards he rushes back to his room and tries to find something to do while he waits for a knock on the door that may or may not come. He thinks about calling Ryan but they were instructed to keep their phone lines clear, so he sits on the edge of his bed and strums a couple of meaningless chords. His roommate has already been whisked away by a group of rambunctious jock types and Brendon wonders if he’s waiting in vain, if the whole Bid Day festivities are already over and he just didn’t make it. His heart hurts but he’s never been one of the cool kids and it isn’t like Jon or Ryan will stop talking to him because he didn’t make it; he really hopes that’s not what it means. He’s moping and trying his best not to cry like a pathetic child when a knock sounds sharply at his door. He lays his guitar down and almost runs to snatch the door open.
Jon’s standing on the other side with Joe, the president of Omega Omega; Joe says, “Brendon Urie, Omega Omega wants to extend an invitation to you, a chance to make a lifelong commitment and join a brand new family that will have your back through thick and thin. Do you accept this bid?” Joe holds out a purple and gold card.
Brendon practically snatches it from his hand. “I accept!” and Jon laughs at him around Joe’s shoulder.
“Well come on then and meet your new pledge brothers.”
The excitement and relief is so strong that Brendon is vibrating as they walk down the hall, stopping to pick up another boy that Brendon vaguely remembers from the meet and greet; the guy gives him a look filled with the elation Brendon is feeling and hell yeah, this is going to be fun. The only better will be finding out that Ryan made it as well.
Joe leads them to a back parking lot where groups of actives, alums and soon to be pledges are milling around. Brendon spots Ryan before Ryan spots him, so he gets to see Ryan’s eyes light up with a glee belied by his monotone when he says, “Brendon, you made it,” and Brendon smiles so hard his cheeks hurt and says, “Yeah.” They don’t talk about how excited they are; it’s understood. The night consists of eating and being introduced and reintroduced to people they’ve met and forgotten and alums that are going to be actively involved in the pledging process. Pete is there and he slaps Brendon on the back and says, “Brendon, glad to see you,” and Brendon blushes and stumbles over his words.
In class the next morning, girls that Brendon didn’t even realize knew his name say, “Good morning,” and giggle when he says it back. He shares a wide eyed look with Shane, one of the boys on his line (his line!), and Shane takes the seat next to him even though he usually sits in the back corner of the class, leans over, flicking his brown hair out of his eyes, and whispers, “It’s already starting, man.”
Brendon whispers back, “What’s already starting?”
Shane laughs, head thrown back, eyes narrowed into slits, and Brendon can see that he has silver caps on his wisdom teeth. “The hot chicks, dude; girls love frats.” Shane smiles at a petite blond across the room and she smiles in return.
Brendon nods because he knew that; he just never thought that rule would ever be applied to him.
**
His cell phone is ringing; it’s one in the morning and there is absolutely no reason on earth why his cell phone should be ringing. Brendon rolls over and peers blearily at the screen and when he doesn’t recognize the number, rejects the call and flops back down on his pillow. His phone starts ringing again before his eyes even have a chance to close fully. It’s the same number. He answers it this time. “Hello?” His voice is scratchy and his mouth tastes bad.
“This number will be your lifeline for the next month and a half; save it. Bden, you have 5 minutes to be at the old oak tree past the visitor’s parking lot. Don’t be seen.” The caller hangs up.
Brendon groans and seriously considers pulling the covers over his head and going back to sleep but he signed up for this mess and to tell the truth, he doesn’t want to disappoint Jon or Ryan or Pete or Shane or any of the other boys on his line. He crawls out of bed, slips on the nearest pair of jeans and his favorite hoodie and slips out of the door and down the stairwell to exit the dorm. He almost jumps out of his skin when someone hisses at him in the darkness on the way to the designated spot and whispers, “Brendon.” His head whips to the side and it’s only Jon grinning at him in the darkness and falling into step by his side. Jon looks him up and down and shakes his head at him. Brendon asks, “What?” and Jon just shakes his head again.
Tom is waiting at the tree with the nine other pledges including Ryan; Tom shakes his head at Brendon too. Tom says, “Okay, pledges, we need to get a few things straight. When you are in the presence of your big brothers, you will be in a single file line based on height.” Tom pauses. “Well? Get in line, shortest to tallest.” They all scramble around while Jon laughs at them. Brendon isn’t surprised to find out he’s the shortest; he’s always the shortest. Ryan ends up a couple of spots down from him and Brendon’s not going to lie, he’s a little bit disappointed that they’re not going to get to stand next to each other every night. Tom says, “Also, I would advise against wearing lavender to super secret meetings at night. That’s just asking to get caught.” Brendon blushes when several people start snickering. It’s his favorite hoodie and it was right there; it’s not like he was thinking clearly or anything after being woke up in the middle of the night and told to bust his ass down to some old tree. Ryan’s wearing two scarves, a vest, and a shirt that doesn’t match anything in the world and Brendon is the one that gets called out; life is not fair.
Jon says, “Are you all laughing at Brother Bden? As future members of this fraternity, you must always have each other’s back. The safety, well being and comfort of your brother, especially your line brother, should always be at the forefront of your mind. Laughers step forward and give me twenty.”
Four guys step out of the line and drop down and start doing push ups. Tom says, “Your line brothers are everything to you until you cross, your blood, your eyes, your ears. Jon and I will be in charge of your process and your connection to the active members in the fraternity. We will see you every night; some nights all the actives will be present, but you can count on seeing at least me or Jon every night. This experience is for you. You may hate it now or tomorrow, but you will come out of the other side with an unshakable bond. Pledging is as hard or as fun as you make it, guys.” He turns to Jon as the pledges that got called out finish their punishment and step back into line. “Do you have anything you want to add?”
“You will be getting your history tomorrow night and you need to start learning it immediately. You will be tested it on it.” Jon grins. “It’s not that hard guys, if Tom can make it through, you can. That’s it for tonight. You all need to practice being discreet; some of you live in the same dorm. You don’t need to go busting up in the dorm together looking suspicious; stagger your arrivals and exits.” He grins. “Brendon, buy a black hoodie. Okay, guys, dismissed.”
**
It’s been two weeks of unrelenting hell and Brendon has almost used up all of his skip days; damn the 70% attendance policy. Brendon catches himself before he nods right out of his desk and that bastard, Shane, isn’t even in class today because he used his skip days wisely. The instructor clears his throat pointedly and says, “Perhaps, you would like to answer this question, Mr. Urie,” right next to his ear.
Brendon starts violently, almost throwing himself on the floor; the class breaks out into laughter and Brendon blushes painfully. “What question, sir?” The professor just shakes his head and says, “You might as well stay in your dorm room, if all you plan to do is sleep, Mr. Urie. Classrooms are for learning.” Brendon nods his head very earnestly and keeps his eyes open through sheer will alone until the class is over.
Ryan laughs at him for five minutes when Brendon recounts the story to him. Shane has dragged himself out of bed and the three of them are sitting around going over their historical facts. Shane’s laughter dies naturally about the same time as Ryan manages to pull himself together and Shane says, “I’m sorry I missed that.” Brendon flips him off and Ryan gives another burst of laughter. Shane goes on, “I hear that we only have two weeks left, max. You know what that means?”
Visions of all the crap they have endured flashes through Brendon’s head, the keggers, the physical labor, the car washing, the tray carrying, the day they had to carry an egg without cracking it (Brendon’s egg had only survived for three hours), the streaking across the soccer field in honor of Pete’s favorite sport. Brendon clears his throat and asks, “What does it mean?”
“Hell Week is coming soon.” Ryan nods his head solemnly.
“Hell Week?” Brendon echoes weakly.
Shane leans forward in his chair. “Hell Week, a week so terrible that it can make a grown man cry. My big brother told me that last year, four people dropped the line and they crossed over the next day.”
“Wow. I bet they felt shitty.” Ryan squirms around on Brendon’s twin bed and turns his head so that it’s resting in Brendon’s lap; Brendon’s hand moves to pet his hair instinctively. Shane raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.
“Remember, when you want to quit that the end could only be a day away.”
**
“If Trevor forgets his damn Greek alphabet one more time, I am going to strangle him DEAD!” Ryan’s eyes are blood shot and he only has one, pitiful, wrinkled scarf tied around his thin neck. One. Wrinkled. Scarf. Brendon hides his grin behind his hand as he furtively stuff another French fry into his mouth; they’re not even supposed to be eating fast food but Ryan was flipping the fuck out, so, they had escaped the campus and were hiding in a corner booth of McDonald’s with their ill-gotten gains. Ryan glared at him like he could see through Brendon’s hand to his twitching lips. Ryan says, “Wipe that smile off your fucking face,” and Brendon loses it, laughing until his stomach hurts; he might be hysterical. Ryan grudgingly cracks a smile. “I saw Pete on campus earlier today.”
Brendon stops laughing. “What?”
Ryan nods. “He was in the alumni house; I had to deliver the new Vision and he was there, just hanging out, chatting with the receptionist.”
“He was probably waiting for Patrick to get out of class.”
“You know what that means, right?”
Brendon knows that he’s getting dead tired of hearing that question. Sadly, he asks, “What?” That question has heralded nothing but bad news since the first time Shane asked it.
Ryan leans in close. “It’s almost over. The alums always come back for Crossing.”
Brendon’s about to answer when Ryan’s eyes open wide and a voice says, “What do we have here?” Brendon just groans and puts his head down on the greasy table.
**
Shane picks at the blanket tossed haphazardly across Brendon’s bed and, truthfully, Shane’s in his room more than Brendon’s actual room mate. Shane asks, “Where’s Ryan?”
“How should I know? Brendon shoots him a suspicious look.
Shane grins but just shrugs his shoulders; his expression turns serious soon enough though. He says, “I’ve been talking to my brother.” Shane’s brother graduated last year; he pledged Omega Omega and has been giving Shane subtle hints and clues along the way. Brendon makes an inquisitive sound. Shane picks at the covers some more. “He told me to be on my guard, not to be alone at night.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brendon looks up from his laptop.
Shane shrugs. “He just said to be careful, all the hazing isn’t above the board.”
Brendon looks incredulous. “None of the hazing’s above the board.”
**
Brendon sees Pete in the cafeteria himself the next day; Patrick is sitting at his side at a table with Joe, Jon and Tom. Brendon steers clear of the area, but Pete grins and nods at him anyway. Brendon smiles back.
He’s glad this shit is almost over; some of the other fraternities have already presented their new members to the student body. Omega Omega has a reputation for pledging hard and long. His room mate is going home for the weekend and Brendon’s grateful; he could use some uninterrupted hours of sleep.
**
Brendon wakes up and immediately starts struggling when someone slaps a salty hand over his open mouth. He kicks out wildly and the intruder is not alone, because someone else quickly loops a cloth of some sort around his head, haphazardly covering his eyes, half of his nose and a piece of his ear before tying it around the back of his head. He frantically tries to remember if he left his door unlocked and no, he’s sure he locked it before going to bed which means somehow they got the key or picked the lock or his bastard roommate let them in, but that can’t be the case because his roommate went home for the weekend. He tries to bite the hand over his mouth and it’s snatched away with a whispered, “Fuck,” and Brendon manages to get out, “What the-" before something foul is being stuff into his mouth and another piece of fabric is being wrapped around his lower face.
“Make sure he can breathe.”
“He can breathe, dickface.”
Brendon doesn’t recognize the voices, either because he’s going insane or his kidnappers are using something to disguise them. His heart is racing like a hamster on one of those stupid spinning wheels and he bumps his head against the door frame as they wrestle him out of the door. Brendon has no idea what is going on, but he did not sign up for this shit.
There’s a car waiting at the end of the stairwell and Brendon has never cursed his small size like he’s cursing it now. The dudes carrying him are barely noticing his struggles, bundling him in the backseat of the vehicle and taping his ankles together. Wildly, Brendon wonders if Jon is in his room, because, HELP; one of his residents is being kidnapped. The ride to wherever is bumpy and full of twists and turns if the way Brendon is sliding all over the back seat is anything to go by. He finally ends up with his feet braced against the door, leaning onto his side to avoid the strain of lying on his arms tied behind his back.
The car stops sharply and Brendon hears the doors open before his being dragged across rough ground; he can feel the wind blowing and he stumbles over a rock before getting righted by the hands around his upper arms. The wind stops abruptly when Brendon’s shoved into a building; at least he thinks it’s a building.
“You made it…finally.”
Brendon turns his head toward the sound of the voice but that doesn’t make it any clearer. The guy standing next to him says, “We had to wait until everybody was asleep, mostly.”
Shuffling sounds come and go; Brendon is breathing hard through his nose, swaying on his tired feet, ankles tied together when the cloth around his mouth is yanked down. Brendon spits the sock out of his mouth and opens it to yell and never gets to because a hand pops some kind of pill into his mouth. Before, Brendon can spit it out, his mouth and nose is covered and in his struggle to breathe, he swallows the bitter pill down his throat.
A hand pats him on the head and his nose is freed and the hand over his mouth is replaced with the original gag. “Good boy. You guys can go; we can take it from here.” Brendon’s straining ears catch feet moving away and a door opening and closing.
“What did you give him?”
“Just something to ensure a good time for everyone.” The voices are starting to fade in and out like the sound on those old movies and Brendon is finding it hard to concentrate and his head feels too heavy on his neck. He has a feeling that whatever his unknown assailants forced down his throat is working exactly like they wanted it to. His eyelashes flutter against his tightened blindfold as he hears movement from across the room. He can barely make out a voice saying in a kind of awed disgust, "Is that a speculum? Where the hell can you even get a speculum?"
The voice that answers is much closer to Brendon and apparently holding a speculum. "Don't knock the spec; it makes things much easier. Trust me, I found out the hard way." Brendon can barely twitch when fingers pull down the gag over his mouth and trace over his lips. "It's a shame to have to use it on this one; he has a great mouth, kind of reminds me of you." Slick kissing sounds filter through the cloth over Brendon's ears and that is fucked up.
Shane’s warning words come back to him.
“He told me to be on my guard, not to be alone at night.”
Brendon crumples, hitting the floor with a thud.
“I think he’s ready.”
**
“Look at that ass. I knew I made the right choice; I almost picked Ryan, but this, this is solid gold. Here, help me untie his arms, so we can get his shirt off.”
Brendon rolls, pliant, as hands urge him over unto his side and free his wrists; his arms move to their natural position at his side without his help. He feels like he’s wrapped in cotton, everything fuzzy and warm. He doesn’t want to do anything but lie there on the floor; he doesn’t have the energy to struggle, doesn’t remember why he would want to struggle. He shivers as all his skin is bared to the slightly cool air. One of the people touching him makes a satisfied sound.
“He looks so tiny.”
“Yes,” a voice says happily, “yes, he does.”
“You are such a pervert. God.”
“And yet, here you are, with me, about to partake in the best ass my money can buy.”
“I thought you said my ass was the best.”
More slick kissing sounds. “Awww, don’t be jealous; you know you’re my favorite. Here. Come down here with me.” Hands tug the fabric off of his mouth and Brendon wets his dry lips lazily. Someone groans in appreciation. “We might not even need the speculum; he’s so under.”
“He doesn’t drink, doesn’t do drugs. He has no tolerance built up.”
“Tolerance wouldn’t have helped him anyway.” Hands settle around Brendon’s waist and he can vaguely feel a presence hovering over him before lips touch his. He turns his head to the side petulantly and one of the hands moves up from his waist to capture his chin. “None of that, now; this will be so much easier if you cooperate.”
Brendon frowns. Cooperate? He is the most cooperative motherfucker he knows; he is such a team player. He remembers…well, he doesn’t know what he remembers because his memory is sort of hazy and full of swirling colors. The mouth is back and this time Brendon doesn’t turn away because he’s a nice guy, a team player. He wants to focus on the kiss to prove exactly how cooperative he is but all the sensations are diffuse, weirdly intangible and there’s too many hands touching him. One mouth should equal two hands, but there’s more than that touching him.
Someone’s breathing by the side of his head and that’s not even possible because he’s kissing the guy. The mouth on his pulls back and takes its tongue with it. “So hot.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
There is more than one person in the room with Brendon; he totally knew that. It’s just hard to focus with his head swimming and all the warmth oozing along his skin. That explains the extra hands touching him, stroking his nipples, dipping into his belly button. Brendon moans.
“Yes.”
**
Brendon is going to kill the person banging on his brain.
Bang. Bang bang bang bang. “Brendon! Get the fuck up.”
Brendon groans and drags himself up. He flips over onto his back and immediately flips back over onto his stomach. “Ow.” Brendon blinks and then frowns. “Ow.” He runs a hand down his body and he’s wearing the pajamas he remembers pulling on before falling into bed, but he doesn’t remember the ache in his ass at all. He tentatively slides his hand down the back of his pants and touches himself; he hisses when his finger hits tender flash. What the hell?
The banging at the door has stopped but Brendon can hear a key being inserted into the lock of his door quite clearly; he snatches his hand out of his pants. The door opens and Jon pokes his head around the corner. “Get up and get dressed in your best suit, little man. Today is the day.”
“What day?” Brendon’s kind of scared to move. His mouth feels swollen and his throat is raw.
Jon beams at him. “The day you become an Omega Omega man. Twenty minutes, back parking lot.” Jon closes his door.
Brendon drags himself out of bed carefully and tries to remember what the fuck happened last night. He just gets a couple of flashes of darkness, of being flung around, hands maybe. His phone rings and it’s Ryan. “Hello?”
Ryan says, “We made it! Thank god that’s over.”
Brendon echoes him, “Yeah, Thank god.”
**
“As a special gift to celebrate the crossing over of our new brothers, Brother Pete Wentz is donating a cool ten grand to the chapter.” A raucous cheer fills the air.
Jon leans his head against Brendon’s shoulder and says, “You did a good job.” Across the room, Tom raises his red cup to him.
**
Epilogue
“And who is this, Ryan?”
Brendon and Ryan turn around to find Jon and Tom grinning at them. Ryan’s mouth tightens briefly before he says, “This is Spencer, my best friend from back home. Spencer, this is Jon, Tom.”
Spencer shakes his hair out of his eyes and smiles; Jon’s gaze drops to his mouth briefly before bouncing back up to Spencer’s blue eyes. Tom drawls, “Best friend, huh?” and something in his voice makes Jon’s head snap around breaking eye contact with Spencer. Tom says, “How do you feel about fraternities, Spencer?”
Brendon’s hand tightens around Ryan’s wrist and Ryan says, “I don’t think fraternities are Spencer’s thing.” It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking from his tone.
Jon smiles but it looks sickly in the sunlight. “Yeah, fraternities aren’t for everyone.”
Tom purses his mouth. “That’s what Brendon said in the beginning, too.”
Spencer looks at all of them standing in a semi circle around him before settling on Ryan. “I haven’t really thought about it, but since Ryan pledged…” he trails off.
“I know just the person you need to meet.” Tom slides a friendly arm around Spencer’s shoulders pulling him in close to his side. Spencer looks slightly bewildered but doesn’t fight the half embrace. His eyes flick over to Jon’s.
Jon doesn’t say anything, just drops his gaze and stares at the ground, jaw clenched tight.
Author: ficsoreal
Pairing: Brendon-centric, background Pete/Patrick, implied Ryan/Brendon
Rating: R
Words: 7022
Summary: Brendon’s seen the type of guys wearing Greek letters across their chests and they’re more likely to shove his head into a toilet than welcome him into their fraternity.
Warnings: This story has warnings that I'm not going to post but take that into consideration before you click the link. Have one of your friends read it first if you are leery.
A/N: I do belong to a sorority and I pulled from personal experience a lot but all sororities and fraternities are different. Fabulous Beta by megyal . All remaining mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: This is a fictional representation of real people; none of this is true and if it is, I did not know about it.
Brendon wakes up and immediately starts struggling when someone slaps a salty hand over his open mouth. He kicks out wildly and the intruder is not alone, because someone else quickly loops a cloth of some sort around his head, haphazardly covering his eyes, half of his nose and a piece of his ear before tying it around the back of his head. He frantically tries to remember if he left his door unlocked and no, he’s sure he locked it before going to bed which means somehow they got the key or picked the lock or his bastard roommate let them in, but that can’t be the case because his roommate went home for the weekend. He tries to bite the hand over his mouth and it’s snatched away with a whispered, “Fuck,” and Brendon manages to get out, “What the- “ before something foul is being stuff into his mouth and another piece of fabric is being wrapped around his lower face.
“Make sure he can breathe.”
“He can breathe, dickface.”
Brendon doesn’t recognize the voices, either because he’s going insane or his kidnappers are using something to disguise them. His heart is racing like a hamster on one of those stupid spinning wheels and he bumps his head against the door frame as they wrestle him out of the door. Brendon has no idea what is going on, but he did not sign up for this shit.
**
Brendon’s grateful that he doesn’t have to go through that aimless freshman wandering where he tries to find someone that will tolerate him until he makes some real friends. He manages to get all of his belongings into his new dorm room without any help and has barely taken five steps out of the front door before he hears his name being said by someone that’s either terribly bored or has a pretty fierce monotone. He turns toward the sound and immediately breaks out into a grin. “Ryan!”
Ryan grimaces at his enthusiastic shout because he’s apparently too cool for shouting but comes over to greet him regardless. He says, “Brent didn’t tell me that you’d be starting school here this semester.”
“It was a last minute decision.” Brendon shrugs, not wanting to get into the details. Ryan’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t press. Brendon’s only met Ryan a couple of times while he was hanging out with Brent; he remembers thinking that Ryan was pretty cute in an odd duck sort of way. He never tried to get to know Ryan better because Ryan was always a bit standoffish and his best friend or whatever kept shooting daggers at Brendon anytime he wandered too close. Brendon pastes on a smile. “What are you doing hanging around the freshmen dorms?”
“I’m supposed to be helping people move in.” Ryan had been leaning against a tree looking put upon before he ambled over to talk to Brendon.
“Well, I’m pretty much finished moving in my stuff; I didn’t have a lot, but you can totally pretend to help me if you want to avoid being roped into helping that kid.” Brendon points toward the truck, car and van that just pulled up to the curb. A blond haired boy that was clearly rich and pampered exited the car and started issuing orders.
Ryan looks over and makes a quick decision. “Deal.”
Brendon beams and gives himself a quick pep talk about not annoying the only person he knows on the whole campus. He leads Ryan to his room on the third floor and plops down on his hastily made bed. Ryan pulls up one of the chairs provided by the university and looks around perfunctorily, not looking particularly curious until his eyes fall on Brendon’s guitar. He asks, “You play?”
“Yeah, guitar, piano and I tinker with some other instruments.” Brendon has a moment of panic wondering if that came out as bragging before Ryan nods his head and says, “Cool. I play a little.”
Brendon’s just about to say, “We should jam together sometime,” when a knock sounds at the door and a short, brown haired guy pokes his head into the door. He says, “Hey, I’m Jon, your RA. If you need anything, I’m down the hall in the last room on the right, the one that says, “Your Master and Overlord lives here.” The guy smiles and actually looks at the two of them, eyes widening in recognition when they land on Ryan. “Ryan, dude, what are you doing sitting around in here? Picking up the newbies or hiding from the hard labor? Don’t think I won’t bust your ass when you try to list this as community service.”
Ryan just waves his hand at Jon, unconcerned with his threats. “We’re just taking a quick break. It’s hot outside.”
Jon rolls his eyes in disbelief. “Sure, I believe that, you delicate flower. Just remember there are eyes everywhere.” Jon closes the door behind him and Brendon can hear him shouting down the hall at some unknown person.
“Is he a friend of yours?”
Ryan shrugs. “Jon’s cool. You’ll have a good time with him as your RA.” Brendon notices that he never really answers the question but Ryan asks him something about the other instruments he plays and the question is forgotten.
**
“Dude if you want to be the best, you need to sign your name right here, fucker! No One is Better than a Beta Brother!”
Brendon dodges around the green clad guy shoving a flyer at him and tries to weave his way across the pavilion to his class. He’s been hearing people whispering about Rush all week and he doesn’t think it’s quite for him. He’s seen the type of guys wearing Greek letters across their chests and they’re more likely to shove his head into a toilet than welcome him into their fraternity. He’s almost past the rows and rows of brightly colored tables and teaming crowds of eager students trying to appear cool when he hears Jon yelling his name.
He looks over to find Jon with his best friend, Tom, standing behind one of the recruiting tables Brendon’s been trying to avoid on the treacherous journey to class. Brendon’s gotten to know Jon as well as a freshman can get to know an upperclassman and Jon’s exactly as cool as Ryan said he was; all Brendon knows about Tom is that he’s Jon’s best friend. Jon waves him over and Tom leans over to whisper something in his ear that makes Jon elbow him in the stomach and makes Brendon want to keep on walking but Jon gestures and yells again and Brendon turns on his heel and heads over.
Jon grins widely at him. “Not participating in Rush, Brendon?”
Brendon shrugs his shoulders and tries not to pay attention to Tom staring at the side of his head; Tom makes him nervous. “I don’t think it’s my kind of thing.”
“You don’t like frat boys? I thought you liked me, Brendon?” And Jon’s pout is so ridiculously exaggerated that even Tom laughs a little.
“You know I love you, Jon Walker,” Brendon rushes to reassure him, “it’s just that my experiences with large groups of guys have not been fun exactly."
Tom coughs and Jon hits him on the back harder than necessary in Brendon’s opinion. Jon says, “This is the first year Tom and I have been named Recruiting Chairs; you don’t want us to have low numbers do you?” Brendon looks down at the stacks of applications littering the table and raises a skeptical eyebrow. Jon smiles at him. “Quality recruits, Brendon.”
“Why,” Tom says in an innocent voice, blue eyes wide, “the only quality name that we’re sure of is Ryan.”
“Ryan’s going through Rush?” Brendon’s surprised and it shows in his voice. Jon elbows Tom again and Brendon really doesn’t know how Tom’s ribs have survived their long friendship.
Jon wraps a broad hand around the back of his neck and looks sheepish. “We’re not really supposed to say who’s signed up, but I guess we can tell you since the two of you are so close. Think about it; you could be line brothers and that’s the best thing ever, isn’t it, Tom?
Tom nods dutifully. “Being Jon’s line brother completed me; it’s just like we got married, our bond is so tight.”
Brendon’s eyes widen and he says, “I don’t know…”
Jon says, “Just fill out this form. There’s no guarantee that you will even get a bid on Bid Day, do it for me. We’ll get in so much trouble if we don’t meet our quota of guys.”
And Brendon is a sucker for sad puppy eyes, so he fills out the little form and rushes off to class trying not to be too late. He almost forgets about the whole thing until Jon stops by his room and tells him to get dressed because the fraternities having a get together to meet all the potential pledges. Brendon says, “I don’t think so, Jon. I just signed up as a favor.”
Jon’s shoulders slump and he wheedles, “I know you’d like the guys if you gave them a chance, would I hang out with total douches?”
“Noooo?” Brendon isn’t sure because Tom is a little mean for his tastes but Jon loves him.
Jon beams. “Well throw on a clean shirt and come the hell on. We’re having karaoke and ice cream.”
Brendon knows it’s useless to fight when Jon’s standing there looking so expectant and at least with Ryan there, he’ll have someone to talk to. He follows Jon down Greek Row until they stop in front of a huge brick mansion. Brendon says, “Wow,” and Jon replies, “Yeah, our alums are totally rich and overly invested; it’s great. Some of the overly invested ones will be here tonight.”
That doesn’t exactly reassure Brendon; with his luck, maybe both upperclassmen and those rich alums will make fun of him. He sighs and follows Jon into the fray; Jon is almost immediately swallowed up into whoops and high fives and apparently Jon is just as popular among his brothers as he is among the dorm residents. Brendon sort of stands around awkwardly until a short, dark haired man with a shitload of tattoos presses a cup into his hand. Brendon says, “Thanks,” and the man laughs a goofy sound and replies, “I’m always nice to people my size,” and Brendon notices that yeah, the other guy is maybe an inch or so taller than him, so tiny. The guy is dragged off before Brendon can strike up a conversation and it’s probably for the best because this way Brendon doesn’t embarrass himself by saying something stupid to the first nice person to speak to him.
“What are you drinking?” Ryan is frowning at the cup in his hand and Brendon totally didn’t hear him approach; Ryan’s obviously some kind of ninja.
Brendon says, “I don’t know,” and Ryan takes the red cup out of his hand and passes him a coke and it’s a toss up in Brendon’s mind which is worse for him to have, caffeine and sugar or alcohol, but he pops the cap and takes a swig. He sees Jon for a second out of the corner of his eye before Jon disappears again and he just kind of stands around beside Ryan, not talking, watching the frat brothers and the other wannabes swarming around and mingling.
Several of the wannabe pledges are trying a bit too hard to be noticed in Brendon’s opinion and Ryan must have been thinking the same thing because he says, “Those guys are acting like fools.”
Brendon nods and turns around to the front of the room where Jon has found a mic somewhere. Jon says, “I would like to take the time to welcome you to the best house on Greek Row, Omega Omega House, THE Be All and End All!” The room erupts into cheers and foot stomping and Jon grins broadly at the room at large before holding up his hands for silence. “We have beer and ice cream and karaoke. Remember to talk to the active members and some of our esteemed alums, because if we don’t know your name, there’s no way we can know if you’re right for us. Now, get to know someone!” Jon hands the mic off to someone and fights his way through the crowd to Brendon and Ryan.
Jon grabs both of them. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He drags them over to the dark haired man that gave Brendon the red cup earlier. He says, “Pete, this is Ryan and Brendon; I was telling you about them earlier.”
Pete smiles widely at them, exposing big, white teeth. His eyes linger on Ryan in a telling way but they’re just as warm when they land on Brendon. He says, “I’ve met little dude,” and bumps his fist against Brendon’s. He asks, “What made you two decide that Omega Omega was for you?” He laughs before they can answer and says, “Because it’s the best house on the yard is totally the right answer by the way.”
Ryan says, “Because it’s the best house on the yard,” in his driest monotone and Pete’s eyes twinkle happily.
He reaches out to touch Ryan’s scarf. “I like you, Ryan, is it?” and Ryan nods. “Where did you get this scarf?" Ryan tells him and they end up following Pete around as he chats with some of the current members and all of the older ones that have come back to vet the potential pledges.
Brendon relaxes enough to forget that this whole thing is some kind of test and the fact that he didn’t even want to be there in the first place. Jon was right and he meets several cool people that don’t attempt to stuff him in some kind of magically appearing locker. Pete seems particularly taken with both him and Ryan and Brendon can see the looks of envy some of the other wannabes are throwing their way and he doesn’t understand it until Ryan leans in close to him and says, “Pete is one of the biggest contributors to the fraternity; he financed more than half of this house and gives huge sums of money each year. He keeps Omega Omega house among the most elite of the fraternities.”
Brendon looks at Pete with new eyes after that; Pete doesn’t seem like he’s that much older than the two of them, but apparently the guy is some kind of business wizard. The party’s getting a little wild and Brendon’s thinking about his bed by the time Tom staggers up to the mic and Brendon’s betting he’s been having more beer than ice cream. Tom slurs into the mic, “Karaoke Time!” and people start cheering again and urging their friends to take the stage.
Another huge cheer goes up when a tiny guy in a hat is pushed to the front and takes the microphone from Tom’s hand. Brendon can understand all the cheering when the short guy opens his mouth and begins to absolutely belt out a song, sweating and waving his hand in the air saucily. Ryan tells him, “That’s Patrick; he’s Pete’s favorite.” Brendon looks around and Pete is indeed riveted to the front of the room watching Patrick work the crowd. When Patrick finishes to lots of applause and some boxer throwing, Pete gives him a huge hug, tucking his face into Patrick’s sweaty neck. Patrick takes the hug, patting Pete awkwardly on the back until he lets go and says something that makes Patrick’s face turn red with something more than exertion.
The performers after that have more enthusiasm than talent, although William shows a fair amount of both. Brendon’s edging toward the door when Jon grabs the mic and says, “There’s someone in the house totally hiding their light under a bushel,” and Brendon only has enough time to wrinkle his forehead before Jon is saying, “Brendon Urie, get your ass up here!”
Brendon’s eyes go wide as everyone swings around to look at him and he turns to Ryan for help but that traitor just smiles at him and pushes him to the front of the crowd. Jon does some quick whispering and button pushing and the beginning notes of a song Brendon knows Jon has heard him singing around the dorm fills the air. Brendon starts off soft but by the end of the first verse, he’s totally hit his stride and people are screaming for him like they screamed for Patrick and William. When the last notes die away, there are three pairs of boxers at his feet and Ryan is staring at him with wide brown eyes. Brendon blushes, embarrassed suddenly and someone yells out, “Omega Omega House is going to own the talent competition this year!”
Brendon recognizes Pete’s braying laugh and then Pete shouts out, “We own it every year! Let’s give Brendon another hand!” and everybody starts clapping and yelling again even Patrick tugged against Pete’s side. Brendon hands Jon the mic and the night goes on from there; Brendon doesn’t make it back to his room until the early morning hours and he thinks before he goes to sleep that if Omega Omega extended him a bid, he would definitely accept.
**
Jon’s been avoiding him all day and Brendon’s not sure what that means. His stomach churns during all his classes and afterwards he rushes back to his room and tries to find something to do while he waits for a knock on the door that may or may not come. He thinks about calling Ryan but they were instructed to keep their phone lines clear, so he sits on the edge of his bed and strums a couple of meaningless chords. His roommate has already been whisked away by a group of rambunctious jock types and Brendon wonders if he’s waiting in vain, if the whole Bid Day festivities are already over and he just didn’t make it. His heart hurts but he’s never been one of the cool kids and it isn’t like Jon or Ryan will stop talking to him because he didn’t make it; he really hopes that’s not what it means. He’s moping and trying his best not to cry like a pathetic child when a knock sounds sharply at his door. He lays his guitar down and almost runs to snatch the door open.
Jon’s standing on the other side with Joe, the president of Omega Omega; Joe says, “Brendon Urie, Omega Omega wants to extend an invitation to you, a chance to make a lifelong commitment and join a brand new family that will have your back through thick and thin. Do you accept this bid?” Joe holds out a purple and gold card.
Brendon practically snatches it from his hand. “I accept!” and Jon laughs at him around Joe’s shoulder.
“Well come on then and meet your new pledge brothers.”
The excitement and relief is so strong that Brendon is vibrating as they walk down the hall, stopping to pick up another boy that Brendon vaguely remembers from the meet and greet; the guy gives him a look filled with the elation Brendon is feeling and hell yeah, this is going to be fun. The only better will be finding out that Ryan made it as well.
Joe leads them to a back parking lot where groups of actives, alums and soon to be pledges are milling around. Brendon spots Ryan before Ryan spots him, so he gets to see Ryan’s eyes light up with a glee belied by his monotone when he says, “Brendon, you made it,” and Brendon smiles so hard his cheeks hurt and says, “Yeah.” They don’t talk about how excited they are; it’s understood. The night consists of eating and being introduced and reintroduced to people they’ve met and forgotten and alums that are going to be actively involved in the pledging process. Pete is there and he slaps Brendon on the back and says, “Brendon, glad to see you,” and Brendon blushes and stumbles over his words.
In class the next morning, girls that Brendon didn’t even realize knew his name say, “Good morning,” and giggle when he says it back. He shares a wide eyed look with Shane, one of the boys on his line (his line!), and Shane takes the seat next to him even though he usually sits in the back corner of the class, leans over, flicking his brown hair out of his eyes, and whispers, “It’s already starting, man.”
Brendon whispers back, “What’s already starting?”
Shane laughs, head thrown back, eyes narrowed into slits, and Brendon can see that he has silver caps on his wisdom teeth. “The hot chicks, dude; girls love frats.” Shane smiles at a petite blond across the room and she smiles in return.
Brendon nods because he knew that; he just never thought that rule would ever be applied to him.
**
His cell phone is ringing; it’s one in the morning and there is absolutely no reason on earth why his cell phone should be ringing. Brendon rolls over and peers blearily at the screen and when he doesn’t recognize the number, rejects the call and flops back down on his pillow. His phone starts ringing again before his eyes even have a chance to close fully. It’s the same number. He answers it this time. “Hello?” His voice is scratchy and his mouth tastes bad.
“This number will be your lifeline for the next month and a half; save it. Bden, you have 5 minutes to be at the old oak tree past the visitor’s parking lot. Don’t be seen.” The caller hangs up.
Brendon groans and seriously considers pulling the covers over his head and going back to sleep but he signed up for this mess and to tell the truth, he doesn’t want to disappoint Jon or Ryan or Pete or Shane or any of the other boys on his line. He crawls out of bed, slips on the nearest pair of jeans and his favorite hoodie and slips out of the door and down the stairwell to exit the dorm. He almost jumps out of his skin when someone hisses at him in the darkness on the way to the designated spot and whispers, “Brendon.” His head whips to the side and it’s only Jon grinning at him in the darkness and falling into step by his side. Jon looks him up and down and shakes his head at him. Brendon asks, “What?” and Jon just shakes his head again.
Tom is waiting at the tree with the nine other pledges including Ryan; Tom shakes his head at Brendon too. Tom says, “Okay, pledges, we need to get a few things straight. When you are in the presence of your big brothers, you will be in a single file line based on height.” Tom pauses. “Well? Get in line, shortest to tallest.” They all scramble around while Jon laughs at them. Brendon isn’t surprised to find out he’s the shortest; he’s always the shortest. Ryan ends up a couple of spots down from him and Brendon’s not going to lie, he’s a little bit disappointed that they’re not going to get to stand next to each other every night. Tom says, “Also, I would advise against wearing lavender to super secret meetings at night. That’s just asking to get caught.” Brendon blushes when several people start snickering. It’s his favorite hoodie and it was right there; it’s not like he was thinking clearly or anything after being woke up in the middle of the night and told to bust his ass down to some old tree. Ryan’s wearing two scarves, a vest, and a shirt that doesn’t match anything in the world and Brendon is the one that gets called out; life is not fair.
Jon says, “Are you all laughing at Brother Bden? As future members of this fraternity, you must always have each other’s back. The safety, well being and comfort of your brother, especially your line brother, should always be at the forefront of your mind. Laughers step forward and give me twenty.”
Four guys step out of the line and drop down and start doing push ups. Tom says, “Your line brothers are everything to you until you cross, your blood, your eyes, your ears. Jon and I will be in charge of your process and your connection to the active members in the fraternity. We will see you every night; some nights all the actives will be present, but you can count on seeing at least me or Jon every night. This experience is for you. You may hate it now or tomorrow, but you will come out of the other side with an unshakable bond. Pledging is as hard or as fun as you make it, guys.” He turns to Jon as the pledges that got called out finish their punishment and step back into line. “Do you have anything you want to add?”
“You will be getting your history tomorrow night and you need to start learning it immediately. You will be tested it on it.” Jon grins. “It’s not that hard guys, if Tom can make it through, you can. That’s it for tonight. You all need to practice being discreet; some of you live in the same dorm. You don’t need to go busting up in the dorm together looking suspicious; stagger your arrivals and exits.” He grins. “Brendon, buy a black hoodie. Okay, guys, dismissed.”
**
It’s been two weeks of unrelenting hell and Brendon has almost used up all of his skip days; damn the 70% attendance policy. Brendon catches himself before he nods right out of his desk and that bastard, Shane, isn’t even in class today because he used his skip days wisely. The instructor clears his throat pointedly and says, “Perhaps, you would like to answer this question, Mr. Urie,” right next to his ear.
Brendon starts violently, almost throwing himself on the floor; the class breaks out into laughter and Brendon blushes painfully. “What question, sir?” The professor just shakes his head and says, “You might as well stay in your dorm room, if all you plan to do is sleep, Mr. Urie. Classrooms are for learning.” Brendon nods his head very earnestly and keeps his eyes open through sheer will alone until the class is over.
Ryan laughs at him for five minutes when Brendon recounts the story to him. Shane has dragged himself out of bed and the three of them are sitting around going over their historical facts. Shane’s laughter dies naturally about the same time as Ryan manages to pull himself together and Shane says, “I’m sorry I missed that.” Brendon flips him off and Ryan gives another burst of laughter. Shane goes on, “I hear that we only have two weeks left, max. You know what that means?”
Visions of all the crap they have endured flashes through Brendon’s head, the keggers, the physical labor, the car washing, the tray carrying, the day they had to carry an egg without cracking it (Brendon’s egg had only survived for three hours), the streaking across the soccer field in honor of Pete’s favorite sport. Brendon clears his throat and asks, “What does it mean?”
“Hell Week is coming soon.” Ryan nods his head solemnly.
“Hell Week?” Brendon echoes weakly.
Shane leans forward in his chair. “Hell Week, a week so terrible that it can make a grown man cry. My big brother told me that last year, four people dropped the line and they crossed over the next day.”
“Wow. I bet they felt shitty.” Ryan squirms around on Brendon’s twin bed and turns his head so that it’s resting in Brendon’s lap; Brendon’s hand moves to pet his hair instinctively. Shane raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.
“Remember, when you want to quit that the end could only be a day away.”
**
“If Trevor forgets his damn Greek alphabet one more time, I am going to strangle him DEAD!” Ryan’s eyes are blood shot and he only has one, pitiful, wrinkled scarf tied around his thin neck. One. Wrinkled. Scarf. Brendon hides his grin behind his hand as he furtively stuff another French fry into his mouth; they’re not even supposed to be eating fast food but Ryan was flipping the fuck out, so, they had escaped the campus and were hiding in a corner booth of McDonald’s with their ill-gotten gains. Ryan glared at him like he could see through Brendon’s hand to his twitching lips. Ryan says, “Wipe that smile off your fucking face,” and Brendon loses it, laughing until his stomach hurts; he might be hysterical. Ryan grudgingly cracks a smile. “I saw Pete on campus earlier today.”
Brendon stops laughing. “What?”
Ryan nods. “He was in the alumni house; I had to deliver the new Vision and he was there, just hanging out, chatting with the receptionist.”
“He was probably waiting for Patrick to get out of class.”
“You know what that means, right?”
Brendon knows that he’s getting dead tired of hearing that question. Sadly, he asks, “What?” That question has heralded nothing but bad news since the first time Shane asked it.
Ryan leans in close. “It’s almost over. The alums always come back for Crossing.”
Brendon’s about to answer when Ryan’s eyes open wide and a voice says, “What do we have here?” Brendon just groans and puts his head down on the greasy table.
**
Shane picks at the blanket tossed haphazardly across Brendon’s bed and, truthfully, Shane’s in his room more than Brendon’s actual room mate. Shane asks, “Where’s Ryan?”
“How should I know? Brendon shoots him a suspicious look.
Shane grins but just shrugs his shoulders; his expression turns serious soon enough though. He says, “I’ve been talking to my brother.” Shane’s brother graduated last year; he pledged Omega Omega and has been giving Shane subtle hints and clues along the way. Brendon makes an inquisitive sound. Shane picks at the covers some more. “He told me to be on my guard, not to be alone at night.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brendon looks up from his laptop.
Shane shrugs. “He just said to be careful, all the hazing isn’t above the board.”
Brendon looks incredulous. “None of the hazing’s above the board.”
**
Brendon sees Pete in the cafeteria himself the next day; Patrick is sitting at his side at a table with Joe, Jon and Tom. Brendon steers clear of the area, but Pete grins and nods at him anyway. Brendon smiles back.
He’s glad this shit is almost over; some of the other fraternities have already presented their new members to the student body. Omega Omega has a reputation for pledging hard and long. His room mate is going home for the weekend and Brendon’s grateful; he could use some uninterrupted hours of sleep.
**
Brendon wakes up and immediately starts struggling when someone slaps a salty hand over his open mouth. He kicks out wildly and the intruder is not alone, because someone else quickly loops a cloth of some sort around his head, haphazardly covering his eyes, half of his nose and a piece of his ear before tying it around the back of his head. He frantically tries to remember if he left his door unlocked and no, he’s sure he locked it before going to bed which means somehow they got the key or picked the lock or his bastard roommate let them in, but that can’t be the case because his roommate went home for the weekend. He tries to bite the hand over his mouth and it’s snatched away with a whispered, “Fuck,” and Brendon manages to get out, “What the-" before something foul is being stuff into his mouth and another piece of fabric is being wrapped around his lower face.
“Make sure he can breathe.”
“He can breathe, dickface.”
Brendon doesn’t recognize the voices, either because he’s going insane or his kidnappers are using something to disguise them. His heart is racing like a hamster on one of those stupid spinning wheels and he bumps his head against the door frame as they wrestle him out of the door. Brendon has no idea what is going on, but he did not sign up for this shit.
There’s a car waiting at the end of the stairwell and Brendon has never cursed his small size like he’s cursing it now. The dudes carrying him are barely noticing his struggles, bundling him in the backseat of the vehicle and taping his ankles together. Wildly, Brendon wonders if Jon is in his room, because, HELP; one of his residents is being kidnapped. The ride to wherever is bumpy and full of twists and turns if the way Brendon is sliding all over the back seat is anything to go by. He finally ends up with his feet braced against the door, leaning onto his side to avoid the strain of lying on his arms tied behind his back.
The car stops sharply and Brendon hears the doors open before his being dragged across rough ground; he can feel the wind blowing and he stumbles over a rock before getting righted by the hands around his upper arms. The wind stops abruptly when Brendon’s shoved into a building; at least he thinks it’s a building.
“You made it…finally.”
Brendon turns his head toward the sound of the voice but that doesn’t make it any clearer. The guy standing next to him says, “We had to wait until everybody was asleep, mostly.”
Shuffling sounds come and go; Brendon is breathing hard through his nose, swaying on his tired feet, ankles tied together when the cloth around his mouth is yanked down. Brendon spits the sock out of his mouth and opens it to yell and never gets to because a hand pops some kind of pill into his mouth. Before, Brendon can spit it out, his mouth and nose is covered and in his struggle to breathe, he swallows the bitter pill down his throat.
A hand pats him on the head and his nose is freed and the hand over his mouth is replaced with the original gag. “Good boy. You guys can go; we can take it from here.” Brendon’s straining ears catch feet moving away and a door opening and closing.
“What did you give him?”
“Just something to ensure a good time for everyone.” The voices are starting to fade in and out like the sound on those old movies and Brendon is finding it hard to concentrate and his head feels too heavy on his neck. He has a feeling that whatever his unknown assailants forced down his throat is working exactly like they wanted it to. His eyelashes flutter against his tightened blindfold as he hears movement from across the room. He can barely make out a voice saying in a kind of awed disgust, "Is that a speculum? Where the hell can you even get a speculum?"
The voice that answers is much closer to Brendon and apparently holding a speculum. "Don't knock the spec; it makes things much easier. Trust me, I found out the hard way." Brendon can barely twitch when fingers pull down the gag over his mouth and trace over his lips. "It's a shame to have to use it on this one; he has a great mouth, kind of reminds me of you." Slick kissing sounds filter through the cloth over Brendon's ears and that is fucked up.
Shane’s warning words come back to him.
“He told me to be on my guard, not to be alone at night.”
Brendon crumples, hitting the floor with a thud.
“I think he’s ready.”
**
“Look at that ass. I knew I made the right choice; I almost picked Ryan, but this, this is solid gold. Here, help me untie his arms, so we can get his shirt off.”
Brendon rolls, pliant, as hands urge him over unto his side and free his wrists; his arms move to their natural position at his side without his help. He feels like he’s wrapped in cotton, everything fuzzy and warm. He doesn’t want to do anything but lie there on the floor; he doesn’t have the energy to struggle, doesn’t remember why he would want to struggle. He shivers as all his skin is bared to the slightly cool air. One of the people touching him makes a satisfied sound.
“He looks so tiny.”
“Yes,” a voice says happily, “yes, he does.”
“You are such a pervert. God.”
“And yet, here you are, with me, about to partake in the best ass my money can buy.”
“I thought you said my ass was the best.”
More slick kissing sounds. “Awww, don’t be jealous; you know you’re my favorite. Here. Come down here with me.” Hands tug the fabric off of his mouth and Brendon wets his dry lips lazily. Someone groans in appreciation. “We might not even need the speculum; he’s so under.”
“He doesn’t drink, doesn’t do drugs. He has no tolerance built up.”
“Tolerance wouldn’t have helped him anyway.” Hands settle around Brendon’s waist and he can vaguely feel a presence hovering over him before lips touch his. He turns his head to the side petulantly and one of the hands moves up from his waist to capture his chin. “None of that, now; this will be so much easier if you cooperate.”
Brendon frowns. Cooperate? He is the most cooperative motherfucker he knows; he is such a team player. He remembers…well, he doesn’t know what he remembers because his memory is sort of hazy and full of swirling colors. The mouth is back and this time Brendon doesn’t turn away because he’s a nice guy, a team player. He wants to focus on the kiss to prove exactly how cooperative he is but all the sensations are diffuse, weirdly intangible and there’s too many hands touching him. One mouth should equal two hands, but there’s more than that touching him.
Someone’s breathing by the side of his head and that’s not even possible because he’s kissing the guy. The mouth on his pulls back and takes its tongue with it. “So hot.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
There is more than one person in the room with Brendon; he totally knew that. It’s just hard to focus with his head swimming and all the warmth oozing along his skin. That explains the extra hands touching him, stroking his nipples, dipping into his belly button. Brendon moans.
“Yes.”
**
Brendon is going to kill the person banging on his brain.
Bang. Bang bang bang bang. “Brendon! Get the fuck up.”
Brendon groans and drags himself up. He flips over onto his back and immediately flips back over onto his stomach. “Ow.” Brendon blinks and then frowns. “Ow.” He runs a hand down his body and he’s wearing the pajamas he remembers pulling on before falling into bed, but he doesn’t remember the ache in his ass at all. He tentatively slides his hand down the back of his pants and touches himself; he hisses when his finger hits tender flash. What the hell?
The banging at the door has stopped but Brendon can hear a key being inserted into the lock of his door quite clearly; he snatches his hand out of his pants. The door opens and Jon pokes his head around the corner. “Get up and get dressed in your best suit, little man. Today is the day.”
“What day?” Brendon’s kind of scared to move. His mouth feels swollen and his throat is raw.
Jon beams at him. “The day you become an Omega Omega man. Twenty minutes, back parking lot.” Jon closes his door.
Brendon drags himself out of bed carefully and tries to remember what the fuck happened last night. He just gets a couple of flashes of darkness, of being flung around, hands maybe. His phone rings and it’s Ryan. “Hello?”
Ryan says, “We made it! Thank god that’s over.”
Brendon echoes him, “Yeah, Thank god.”
**
“As a special gift to celebrate the crossing over of our new brothers, Brother Pete Wentz is donating a cool ten grand to the chapter.” A raucous cheer fills the air.
Jon leans his head against Brendon’s shoulder and says, “You did a good job.” Across the room, Tom raises his red cup to him.
**
Epilogue
“And who is this, Ryan?”
Brendon and Ryan turn around to find Jon and Tom grinning at them. Ryan’s mouth tightens briefly before he says, “This is Spencer, my best friend from back home. Spencer, this is Jon, Tom.”
Spencer shakes his hair out of his eyes and smiles; Jon’s gaze drops to his mouth briefly before bouncing back up to Spencer’s blue eyes. Tom drawls, “Best friend, huh?” and something in his voice makes Jon’s head snap around breaking eye contact with Spencer. Tom says, “How do you feel about fraternities, Spencer?”
Brendon’s hand tightens around Ryan’s wrist and Ryan says, “I don’t think fraternities are Spencer’s thing.” It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking from his tone.
Jon smiles but it looks sickly in the sunlight. “Yeah, fraternities aren’t for everyone.”
Tom purses his mouth. “That’s what Brendon said in the beginning, too.”
Spencer looks at all of them standing in a semi circle around him before settling on Ryan. “I haven’t really thought about it, but since Ryan pledged…” he trails off.
“I know just the person you need to meet.” Tom slides a friendly arm around Spencer’s shoulders pulling him in close to his side. Spencer looks slightly bewildered but doesn’t fight the half embrace. His eyes flick over to Jon’s.
Jon doesn’t say anything, just drops his gaze and stares at the ground, jaw clenched tight.