wip amnesty, continued. #6.
not quite jack. December 14 2007. Panic! AU, with other bandpeople showing up; Brendon, unhappy, goes to college and discovers where his three best friends had been hiding all his life. But none of his other friends (including his roommate, Patrick) seem to like them. (I had the rest plotted out: his other friends would have staged something like an intervention, trying to tell Brendon as carefully as they could that Ryan, Spencer, and Jon didn't exist, and then the next day Brendon bolts.) 2239 words.
"Hey," someone says, and pokes Brendon in the side.
"Mrf," he says, and makes a face, eyes still closed. He'd chosen this part of the library because it was always empty, dammit, and all he'd wanted was a quick nap before his next class, but apparently he wasn't allowed. The poke comes again, and he shrinks into an even tinier ball in the chair. Maybe if he just ignores him whoever it is will go away.
Except: "Dude," he hears, "
"Hey, Ryan," Brendon says, dropping into the nearest armchair -- for being a library, the chairs here are ridiculously comfortable, it's kind of crazy -- and pulling his hat off. "Who's your friend?"
Said friend raises his eyebrows at Brendon, and maybe smirks a little."Hi," he says, "you must be Brendon, the guy who's always asleep in the library."
"That is so not fair," Brendon says, scowling. "I'm in the library plenty when I'm not asleep. Sometimes I just don't get enough sleep at night, is all, and it's easier to sleep in the library than to walk back to my room. And it's safer than sleeping in the campus center, or something, so shut up."
The guy just looks at him for a moment, face completely impassive, and then Brendon must pass some kind of test or something, because the guy nods, and smiles a little. "Yeah, I guess that's fair enough. I've had my share of okay, fine, this is closer to taking a nap than sleeping through the night instances, anyway. Fucking homework." Brendon nods a little; it's maybe not entirely true, but there's no problem letting this guy believe it is. "I'm Spencer, by the way."
"You really eat that?"
Brendon looks up from his tray; standing on the other side of the table is Spencer, carrying a salad and looking less than impressed. "Um. Yes?" he offers up hopefully.
"Ugh. I don't know how you can stand it, I really don't," Spencer says, rolling his eyes, and sets his tray down on the table. "Be right back, I forgot to get a fork."
"'kay," Brendon says, and has another chicken nugget in the meantime. They're not really that bad, and the fries are actually pretty tasty.
"Seriously, Brendon, you're going to wake up one day with seven toes on one foot or something," Spencer says a moment or two later. Apparently he really was getting a fork, and is now back, and planning on eating lunch with Brendon.
Which, okay, he has no real problem with that. It's not like he wasn't sitting at an empty table before, anyway. "Yeah, well," he says, "as long as I've only got three on the other one I think I'm okay," and the conversation shortly turns into creative ways to mutate someone. It's a good lunch.
"Ugh," Brendon says, flipping the lights back on and shutting the door behind himself. "Have I mentioned today how I really, really don't like calculus?"
"A few times, yes," Spencer says, his mouth tilted halfway up in amusement as he takes his backpack off and slides down to the floor, propping himself up on Brendon's bed. "We can pretend it doesn't exist, if you want, but I'm not the one who's afraid he's going to fail the test tomorrow."
Brendon pulls a face at Spencer. "I really hate you sometimes, Spencer Smith." He grabs his things anyway, textbook, notebook, looseleaf paper, and fishes his lucky pen out from under the tent of paper on his desk. "Except that I feel like you're going to get me through this course, so pretend I just said love instead of hate, okay?"
Spencer laughs, flips his notebook open. "Yeah, whatever, I know you just want me for my mind." He rolls his eyes, still smiling, and then looks back down at his notes. "Okay, so what's the test on again?"
An hour or two pass, and Brendon totally wasn't kidding when he said that Spencer's going to get him through the course -- he keeps making all these stupid mistakes, and then running them by Spencer, and Spencer sighs disgustedly and asks Brendon questions until he gets to the answer by himself. Which, okay, proves that he had the knowledge himself all along, sure, whatever, but he definitely would not have been able to get to any of those places alone.
It's almost dark by the time Patrick shows up, but that's not really surprising; it's winter, the days have been getting shorter. And Patrick has an afternoon class, and they have been studying since after lunch. "Hey, what's up?" Patrick asks, unwinding his scarf and shucking his coat off.
"Calculus test tomorrow, ugh. Spencer is helping me study. -- oh," Brendon says, realizing, "this is Spencer, by the way. Spencer, this is Patrick, my roommate."
"... hi, Spencer," Patrick says, blinking a little.
"Hey." Spencer nods vaguely in Patrick's direction, intent on the paper in front of him. "Oh, Brendon, I know what you did wrong, you forgot the chain rule, if you do that and then simplify it works out to what the book says."
"-- is that what I did wrong? Wait, lemme see the solutions manual," Brendon says, making grabby hands at Spencer until he hands it over.
"Um. Actually, I think I'm just gonna go," Patrick says, unplugging his laptop and picking it up.
"Hey, no, don't leave 'cause we're studying, you're fine --"
"-- no, no, don't worry, I just remembered I promised one of the guys in my class I'd work on this assignment with him and I know he's in his room, so." Patrick shrugs, tugs on the brim of his hat and smiles a little. "Good luck on the studying."
"Thanks!" Brendon says; the door closes just as Spencer looks up and starts to repeat him. "Oh. Oh well. Chain rule, you said?"
"Yeah, it's kind of kicking your ass right now, sorry," Spencer says, and grins.
"Oh, no shit?" There's dinner in front of Brendon, but he's ignoring it, because Ryan and Spencer's friend finally has a chance to eat with them, and he is, simply put, awesome. And apparently from Chicago, which, "Dude, my roommate is from Chicago too!"
"Hey, cool," Jon says, smiling, and stabs his fork into what is probably a salmon patty. "You think there's actually any fish in here?"
"I wouldn't chance it," Ryan says, rolling his eyes and taking a bite of his sandwich. He's got the entire dining hall at his fingertips, and somehow he manages to eat the same thing every night. "... oh, leave me alone, Brendon, don't give me that look. Just because you seem to want to trust your digestive tract to the campus food doesn't mean you should take it out on me when the choices are shitty."
"What?" Brendon puts on his most innocent face, and Spencer snorts. "I am quite enjoying my turkey dinner, thank you very much."
"That's why half of it's still on your plate, right?" Spencer also tends to stick to one thing, but at least he ventures out every so often. Or at least once a week.
"Hey, I'm savoring it. And enjoying Jon Walker's amazing company, you are never allowed to eat without me again, by the way."
"I think I can live with that," Jon says, smile growing a little, and Brendon can't help but smile back.
When Brendon gets back to his room, Patrick takes one look at him and laughs. "Someone had a good day today."
"What?" He smiles a little, kicks his shoes off and tosses his backpack on his bed. "I mean, sure, yeah, today was awesome, how can you tell?"
"Dude," Patrick says, and laughs a little more. "What's his name?"
And now Brendon is blushing, maybe, just a tiny bit. "I do not know what you're talking about, but if I did I would tell you that his name is Gabe. And that is all I would tell you, if I knew."
"Well, if you had told me his name is Gabe, I would thank you, and then go try and find him him and thank him, because you are seriously just short of having cartoon hearts in your eyes."
"... shut up," Brendon says, trying to scowl. He doesn't really pull it off, though.
"Hey, are we still on for Friday night?" Spencer looks up from his calculus textbook, half-smiling. "Ryan said he found out about another horror movie that's supposed to be something like the scariest movie ever made, or something."
"Yeah, that makes what, five of those?"
"Something like that," Spencer says, and rolls his eyes, but Brendon can tell it's fond. "You're still coming, right?"
"Yeah, defini -- oh, shit, no, I'm sorry." He makes a face at his own textbook, chancing a look up at Spencer after a few seconds; he's not mad, it looks like, just ... confused, maybe? Brendon can't really read the look on his face. "I have, uh. A date."
"-- you have a date? With who?" The expression on Spencer's face is still mostly unreadable, although it does seem to have darkened a little. "That guy in your music theory class?"
"Yeah, uh," Brendon says, and maybe he's smiling a little, but maybe he can't help it, so what. "His name's Gabe, I sort of. Ran into him. Literally. But, uh. We're going bowling Friday night, it's gonna be awesome."
"Aha," Spencer says, nodding a little, and looks down at his notes. "What'd you get for problem six again?"
The subject change is kind of incredibly obvious, but Brendon lets it slide. He had been looking forward to movie night, to be fair; it had just slipped his mind. Which is strange. But there'll be other movie nights, he knows, but there might not be other Gabe dates, so. Everything works out.
"Hey, Brendon," he hears softly, and has the strangest sense of deja vu. When he opens his eyes, he mentally pays himself ten bucks, because Ryan's face is swimming above him. Maybe falling asleep in the library really isn't the best idea, now that someone he knows is working here.
"Mrf," he says, articulately. "What's up?"
"Spencer told me you're ditching us tomorrow for a date?"
"Oh, uh. Yeah? Um. Sorry."
"Hey, no big," Ryan says, and laughs a little. "I'd do the same thing if I were you, dude, don't worry about it." There's a pause; Brendon yawns. "Who's it with?" Ryan asks, a moment later, when Brendon's a little more awake.
"This guy, uh. Gabe Saporta? Likes to tell people he's a pottery major? He's in one of my requirement classes. We're going bowling."
"-- oh. Okay," Ryan says, flatly. "Have fun with that."
Okay, that is just not fair. "What does that mean?"
Ryan shrugs, shelves some books. "Nothing, I just hear a lot of gossip, is all. People forget I'm here. Hazards of being a library aide, I guess."
"... what, have you heard things about him?" Brendon almost doesn't want to hear the answer, but at the same time he doesn't think he could stand not to.
"No, no, I shouldn't have even brought it up, I'm sorry." Ryan flaps his hand at Brendon a little, shakes his head. "Have fun tomorrow, okay?"
"Ryan," Brendon says, actually standing up so they're mostly on the same level. Ryan's face has that closed-off look to it, but damned if Brendon's going to let Ryan clam up now. "What have you heard?"
"Okay, fine," says Ryan, and sighs. "I heard a couple days ago that he put something in a girl's drink at one of the parties last Saturday. I guess her friend caught him, or something, because the girl didn't actually drink anything from it, but still." Ryan stops talking, and Brendon's face must have fallen through the floor, because he starts back up again almost immediately. "I mean. I'm sure it's not true, man, if you trust him I trust him. But you should probably know what people are saying about him."
"Yeah, no, that's fair," Brendon says, thinking. "Thanks."
Brendon cannot bowl. This is a documented fact. He likes watching other people bowl, though, and he enjoys being a lameass who can't bowl so the guy he's bowling with feels compelled to teach him, so he had been really excited about tonight.
Until, y'know, yesterday.
He's trying not to act any differently toward Gabe, and it's probably working, because Gabe doesn't seem to notice anything. Whenever he isn't doing something else, though, he can't help looking over at Gabe, studying him. He can't get that idea of him slipping something in that girl's drink out of his mind.
At the end of the night he gets a good-night kiss on the cheek, and a promise that Gabe will call him this weekend so they can figure out their next date. Brendon smiles at Gabe as he walks away, but. Still.
"Hey, Patrick," Brendon says, frowning a little. "You know how I went bowling with that guy Gabe last night?"
"-- yeah," Patrick says, grinning. "How'd that go?"
It's a good question. Brendon shrugs instead of answering. "Have you ever talked to him before?"
"Um. Not that I can remember? He's, uh. Really tall, right, curly hair, dark eyes?"
"Yeah, that's him."
"I've seen him around, but I haven't really talked to him." Patrick shrugs this time. "Why?"
"Just curious," Brendon says, and it's completely true. "You ever hear anything about him?"
"What I've heard of him makes him out to be a nice guy, if that's what you're worried about," says Patrick, tugging on his hat a little. "Maybe a little off, a little weird, but mostly a nice guy."
"Mm. Thanks," says Brendon, looking back down at his homework. That wasn't really as encouraging as he'd hoped it would be.
Maybe Ryan had been right.
"Hey," someone says, and pokes Brendon in the side.
"Mrf," he says, and makes a face, eyes still closed. He'd chosen this part of the library because it was always empty, dammit, and all he'd wanted was a quick nap before his next class, but apparently he wasn't allowed. The poke comes again, and he shrinks into an even tinier ball in the chair. Maybe if he just ignores him whoever it is will go away.
Except: "Dude," he hears, "
"Hey, Ryan," Brendon says, dropping into the nearest armchair -- for being a library, the chairs here are ridiculously comfortable, it's kind of crazy -- and pulling his hat off. "Who's your friend?"
Said friend raises his eyebrows at Brendon, and maybe smirks a little."Hi," he says, "you must be Brendon, the guy who's always asleep in the library."
"That is so not fair," Brendon says, scowling. "I'm in the library plenty when I'm not asleep. Sometimes I just don't get enough sleep at night, is all, and it's easier to sleep in the library than to walk back to my room. And it's safer than sleeping in the campus center, or something, so shut up."
The guy just looks at him for a moment, face completely impassive, and then Brendon must pass some kind of test or something, because the guy nods, and smiles a little. "Yeah, I guess that's fair enough. I've had my share of okay, fine, this is closer to taking a nap than sleeping through the night instances, anyway. Fucking homework." Brendon nods a little; it's maybe not entirely true, but there's no problem letting this guy believe it is. "I'm Spencer, by the way."
"You really eat that?"
Brendon looks up from his tray; standing on the other side of the table is Spencer, carrying a salad and looking less than impressed. "Um. Yes?" he offers up hopefully.
"Ugh. I don't know how you can stand it, I really don't," Spencer says, rolling his eyes, and sets his tray down on the table. "Be right back, I forgot to get a fork."
"'kay," Brendon says, and has another chicken nugget in the meantime. They're not really that bad, and the fries are actually pretty tasty.
"Seriously, Brendon, you're going to wake up one day with seven toes on one foot or something," Spencer says a moment or two later. Apparently he really was getting a fork, and is now back, and planning on eating lunch with Brendon.
Which, okay, he has no real problem with that. It's not like he wasn't sitting at an empty table before, anyway. "Yeah, well," he says, "as long as I've only got three on the other one I think I'm okay," and the conversation shortly turns into creative ways to mutate someone. It's a good lunch.
"Ugh," Brendon says, flipping the lights back on and shutting the door behind himself. "Have I mentioned today how I really, really don't like calculus?"
"A few times, yes," Spencer says, his mouth tilted halfway up in amusement as he takes his backpack off and slides down to the floor, propping himself up on Brendon's bed. "We can pretend it doesn't exist, if you want, but I'm not the one who's afraid he's going to fail the test tomorrow."
Brendon pulls a face at Spencer. "I really hate you sometimes, Spencer Smith." He grabs his things anyway, textbook, notebook, looseleaf paper, and fishes his lucky pen out from under the tent of paper on his desk. "Except that I feel like you're going to get me through this course, so pretend I just said love instead of hate, okay?"
Spencer laughs, flips his notebook open. "Yeah, whatever, I know you just want me for my mind." He rolls his eyes, still smiling, and then looks back down at his notes. "Okay, so what's the test on again?"
An hour or two pass, and Brendon totally wasn't kidding when he said that Spencer's going to get him through the course -- he keeps making all these stupid mistakes, and then running them by Spencer, and Spencer sighs disgustedly and asks Brendon questions until he gets to the answer by himself. Which, okay, proves that he had the knowledge himself all along, sure, whatever, but he definitely would not have been able to get to any of those places alone.
It's almost dark by the time Patrick shows up, but that's not really surprising; it's winter, the days have been getting shorter. And Patrick has an afternoon class, and they have been studying since after lunch. "Hey, what's up?" Patrick asks, unwinding his scarf and shucking his coat off.
"Calculus test tomorrow, ugh. Spencer is helping me study. -- oh," Brendon says, realizing, "this is Spencer, by the way. Spencer, this is Patrick, my roommate."
"... hi, Spencer," Patrick says, blinking a little.
"Hey." Spencer nods vaguely in Patrick's direction, intent on the paper in front of him. "Oh, Brendon, I know what you did wrong, you forgot the chain rule, if you do that and then simplify it works out to what the book says."
"-- is that what I did wrong? Wait, lemme see the solutions manual," Brendon says, making grabby hands at Spencer until he hands it over.
"Um. Actually, I think I'm just gonna go," Patrick says, unplugging his laptop and picking it up.
"Hey, no, don't leave 'cause we're studying, you're fine --"
"-- no, no, don't worry, I just remembered I promised one of the guys in my class I'd work on this assignment with him and I know he's in his room, so." Patrick shrugs, tugs on the brim of his hat and smiles a little. "Good luck on the studying."
"Thanks!" Brendon says; the door closes just as Spencer looks up and starts to repeat him. "Oh. Oh well. Chain rule, you said?"
"Yeah, it's kind of kicking your ass right now, sorry," Spencer says, and grins.
"Oh, no shit?" There's dinner in front of Brendon, but he's ignoring it, because Ryan and Spencer's friend finally has a chance to eat with them, and he is, simply put, awesome. And apparently from Chicago, which, "Dude, my roommate is from Chicago too!"
"Hey, cool," Jon says, smiling, and stabs his fork into what is probably a salmon patty. "You think there's actually any fish in here?"
"I wouldn't chance it," Ryan says, rolling his eyes and taking a bite of his sandwich. He's got the entire dining hall at his fingertips, and somehow he manages to eat the same thing every night. "... oh, leave me alone, Brendon, don't give me that look. Just because you seem to want to trust your digestive tract to the campus food doesn't mean you should take it out on me when the choices are shitty."
"What?" Brendon puts on his most innocent face, and Spencer snorts. "I am quite enjoying my turkey dinner, thank you very much."
"That's why half of it's still on your plate, right?" Spencer also tends to stick to one thing, but at least he ventures out every so often. Or at least once a week.
"Hey, I'm savoring it. And enjoying Jon Walker's amazing company, you are never allowed to eat without me again, by the way."
"I think I can live with that," Jon says, smile growing a little, and Brendon can't help but smile back.
When Brendon gets back to his room, Patrick takes one look at him and laughs. "Someone had a good day today."
"What?" He smiles a little, kicks his shoes off and tosses his backpack on his bed. "I mean, sure, yeah, today was awesome, how can you tell?"
"Dude," Patrick says, and laughs a little more. "What's his name?"
And now Brendon is blushing, maybe, just a tiny bit. "I do not know what you're talking about, but if I did I would tell you that his name is Gabe. And that is all I would tell you, if I knew."
"Well, if you had told me his name is Gabe, I would thank you, and then go try and find him him and thank him, because you are seriously just short of having cartoon hearts in your eyes."
"... shut up," Brendon says, trying to scowl. He doesn't really pull it off, though.
"Hey, are we still on for Friday night?" Spencer looks up from his calculus textbook, half-smiling. "Ryan said he found out about another horror movie that's supposed to be something like the scariest movie ever made, or something."
"Yeah, that makes what, five of those?"
"Something like that," Spencer says, and rolls his eyes, but Brendon can tell it's fond. "You're still coming, right?"
"Yeah, defini -- oh, shit, no, I'm sorry." He makes a face at his own textbook, chancing a look up at Spencer after a few seconds; he's not mad, it looks like, just ... confused, maybe? Brendon can't really read the look on his face. "I have, uh. A date."
"-- you have a date? With who?" The expression on Spencer's face is still mostly unreadable, although it does seem to have darkened a little. "That guy in your music theory class?"
"Yeah, uh," Brendon says, and maybe he's smiling a little, but maybe he can't help it, so what. "His name's Gabe, I sort of. Ran into him. Literally. But, uh. We're going bowling Friday night, it's gonna be awesome."
"Aha," Spencer says, nodding a little, and looks down at his notes. "What'd you get for problem six again?"
The subject change is kind of incredibly obvious, but Brendon lets it slide. He had been looking forward to movie night, to be fair; it had just slipped his mind. Which is strange. But there'll be other movie nights, he knows, but there might not be other Gabe dates, so. Everything works out.
"Hey, Brendon," he hears softly, and has the strangest sense of deja vu. When he opens his eyes, he mentally pays himself ten bucks, because Ryan's face is swimming above him. Maybe falling asleep in the library really isn't the best idea, now that someone he knows is working here.
"Mrf," he says, articulately. "What's up?"
"Spencer told me you're ditching us tomorrow for a date?"
"Oh, uh. Yeah? Um. Sorry."
"Hey, no big," Ryan says, and laughs a little. "I'd do the same thing if I were you, dude, don't worry about it." There's a pause; Brendon yawns. "Who's it with?" Ryan asks, a moment later, when Brendon's a little more awake.
"This guy, uh. Gabe Saporta? Likes to tell people he's a pottery major? He's in one of my requirement classes. We're going bowling."
"-- oh. Okay," Ryan says, flatly. "Have fun with that."
Okay, that is just not fair. "What does that mean?"
Ryan shrugs, shelves some books. "Nothing, I just hear a lot of gossip, is all. People forget I'm here. Hazards of being a library aide, I guess."
"... what, have you heard things about him?" Brendon almost doesn't want to hear the answer, but at the same time he doesn't think he could stand not to.
"No, no, I shouldn't have even brought it up, I'm sorry." Ryan flaps his hand at Brendon a little, shakes his head. "Have fun tomorrow, okay?"
"Ryan," Brendon says, actually standing up so they're mostly on the same level. Ryan's face has that closed-off look to it, but damned if Brendon's going to let Ryan clam up now. "What have you heard?"
"Okay, fine," says Ryan, and sighs. "I heard a couple days ago that he put something in a girl's drink at one of the parties last Saturday. I guess her friend caught him, or something, because the girl didn't actually drink anything from it, but still." Ryan stops talking, and Brendon's face must have fallen through the floor, because he starts back up again almost immediately. "I mean. I'm sure it's not true, man, if you trust him I trust him. But you should probably know what people are saying about him."
"Yeah, no, that's fair," Brendon says, thinking. "Thanks."
Brendon cannot bowl. This is a documented fact. He likes watching other people bowl, though, and he enjoys being a lameass who can't bowl so the guy he's bowling with feels compelled to teach him, so he had been really excited about tonight.
Until, y'know, yesterday.
He's trying not to act any differently toward Gabe, and it's probably working, because Gabe doesn't seem to notice anything. Whenever he isn't doing something else, though, he can't help looking over at Gabe, studying him. He can't get that idea of him slipping something in that girl's drink out of his mind.
At the end of the night he gets a good-night kiss on the cheek, and a promise that Gabe will call him this weekend so they can figure out their next date. Brendon smiles at Gabe as he walks away, but. Still.
"Hey, Patrick," Brendon says, frowning a little. "You know how I went bowling with that guy Gabe last night?"
"-- yeah," Patrick says, grinning. "How'd that go?"
It's a good question. Brendon shrugs instead of answering. "Have you ever talked to him before?"
"Um. Not that I can remember? He's, uh. Really tall, right, curly hair, dark eyes?"
"Yeah, that's him."
"I've seen him around, but I haven't really talked to him." Patrick shrugs this time. "Why?"
"Just curious," Brendon says, and it's completely true. "You ever hear anything about him?"
"What I've heard of him makes him out to be a nice guy, if that's what you're worried about," says Patrick, tugging on his hat a little. "Maybe a little off, a little weird, but mostly a nice guy."
"Mm. Thanks," says Brendon, looking back down at his homework. That wasn't really as encouraging as he'd hoped it would be.
Maybe Ryan had been right.