Title: Why You Shouldn't Ask About Roadies (Or, Maybe Why You Should)
POV: Third, Shane
Summary: Shane knows, after only four days, why Brendon can't live with his parents anymore. It's the spoons, but Shane's having trouble for so many more reasons than that.
Disclaimer: Yeah, not so much.
Author Notes: ~3,300 words. Set late 2006/early 2007. Little whore!Bden made me do it in a conversation I have with my muses, which, you know, might make me insane, but whatever.
“Brendon, go put pants on,” Shane says from the kitchen table, where he’s cleaning his camera and sipping coffee. “Or at least some underwear.”
It’s barely nine a.m. and he’s already seen his roommate’s dick three times. It’s like Brendon’s trying to fuck with him.
“But it’s natural. I’m free like this.” Brendon complains.
“Go be free in your own room them. With the door locked.”
“I want to be free on the couch.”
Shane can’t see Brendon anymore, but he can hear the telltale creak of Brendon throwing himself on Shane’s new couch. “Please tell me you just showered. Or at least that you put a blanket down.”
“Wanna watch a movie?” Brendon asks.
Shane wants to reply with something snarky like “Wanna finish unpacking your boxes?” but he doesn’t. He thinks about how Brendon’s naked, and then thinks about just asking if Brendon wants to fuck, but he doesn’t do that either.
“Sure,” Shane finally says. “But you’ve got to cover your dick.”
Brendon had moved in with him six weeks after two weeks of living with his family. It had been hard for Brendon, getting them back after well over a year of disownment. He’d been so excited to have them back in his life, and they’d been so excited to have him, that it had never occurred to any of them that they were all different people now. Or even that there had been a lot of very valid reasons for Brendon leaving in the first place. There’d been a series of fights and misunderstandings between Brendon and his family before they’d mutually decided that living together wasn’t the best idea.
Shane was surprised when Brendon came to him first, before anyone else. When he thought about it logically, it made sense. Spencer was at his folks, Ryan was with Spencer, and Jon was back in Chicago. Shane had told him without hesitation that he could move in and stay as long as he wanted or needed to.
Though, after four days, Shane could see exactly why it hadn’t worked out with Brendon’s family.
Brendon left spoons everywhere. Shane wasn’t really sure how that happened. Bowls, plates, water glasses, all of that made it to the dishwasher, but the dirty spoons were everywhere.
“Bden,” Shane says, extracting a spoon from the carpet fibers.
“Yeah?” Brendon’s stuck his head around the corner and looked over. Shane hadn’t known he’d been so close.
“Spoons, Brendon. What the fuck is with these damn spoons?”
Brendon’s face fell. “Sorry?”
“Don’t say sorry, just make sure the spoons make it to the dishwasher with the rest of your dishes.”
Brendon looks like he’s going to cry and Shane’s heart dips. “Bden, sorry, that came out harsh. But… what’s the deal with the spoons?”
Brendon shrugs from behind the wall. “I like to suck on them sometimes. I put the dishes away, but keep the spoons. It’s weird, I know.”
Shane raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, ok, that’s weird. I’m not gonna lie.”
“I have an oral fixation,” Brendon says as he finally comes around the corner.
Shane licks his lips. “I’ve noticed.”
“Can I bum a smoke?”
Shane stares at him. “You shouldn’t take up smoking just because you have an oral fixation.”
Brendon pouts. “You smoke.”
“You can’t take up smoking just because I smoke.”
“It’s not like I’ve never smoked before.”
“What’s with you, Bden?”
Brendon shrugs. “I hate having nothing to do. I’m antsy as fuck. I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin.”
Shane pushes Brendon onto the couch and rubs his shoulders. “What do you want to do? Party? Club?”
Brendon whines and struggles against Shane’s touch. “No.”
Shane rubs Brendon’s shoulders hard and holds him still. “No what, Brendon?”
“Just no. I don’t want any of those things.”
Shane moves to rubs a particularly tight spot on Brendon’s neck. “I can’t really help you if you don’t tell me what it is that you want.”
“I want…” Brendon trails off and huffs. “I want Ryan and Spencer and Jon. And ice cream. Ice cream with sprinkles.”
Shane makes a face. “I can probably arrange everything but Jon. Chicago is a long way away.”
Brendon whines again and flails on the couch. “God, don’t tell them that I’m throwing a fucking temper tantrum. This is pathetic.”
“When, in the last, what? Damn near three years have you had the chance to just sit down and be comfortable?” Shane asks, taking the open spot next to Brendon. He reaches over and pulls at an errant strand of dark hair that’s crossing over Brendon’s eyes. Sometimes, it’s hard for Shane, Brendon being so young, but having done so much.
Brendon blinks up at him. “What?”
“Dude, you worked and went to school and did the band. And then you took this little band and made it this huge success. You’ve been on tour for two years. It’s normal to feel disoriented now that you’re standing still.” He doesn’t know if that’s verbalizing it correctly, but sometimes he doesn’t understand how Brendon’s not more of a mess.
Brendon crawls into Shane’s lap and huffs against his chest. “I miss it. I thought I was ready to not, you know, all the time, but I do. I’m lonely and everything is so still.”
Shane cradles him softly. “It’ll be ok. You’ve just got to give it some time. You’ve got to learn to be still, Brendon.”
Brendon huffs again, but starts to still against Shane’s chest. “I take it back. I don’t want anyone else. I just want to stay right here for a little while until it passes.”
“Yeah,” Shane says soothingly, “until it passes.”
The next day, Brendon’s stretched out in their living room, doing yoga. Shane wants to ask when he started doing that, but talking would probably ruin the zen that Brendon’s going for, so Shane just leaves him be.
He’s cooking a quick stir-fry when Brendon comes in from the living room.
“Smells good. Need help?” Brendon asks as he comes in.
Shane shakes his head. “How hungry are you?”
“Starved,” Brendon says, grabbing a Red Bull from the fridge before reaching down to adjust his dick.
“You know, you’re not supposed to play with your dick in front of people.”
“That logic fails. I do it on stage all the time.”
“Do you see any fangirls or roadies around here?”
Brendon laughs nervously. “Have you been googling me again?”
“No,” Shane says, pouring the stir-fry into a bowl. “You’d just be surprised what you hear setting up a camera where no one can see you.”
Brendon flushes and takes his bowl. “Thanks for lunch,” he says before vanishing into his room.
Shane feels a little bad for bringing up the roadies.
“Fucking shit!” Shane yells as he drops the groceries he’s holding and slams the door closed, locking himself safely on the outside. He stands there until Brendon opens the door, boxers tenting up and a sheepish smile on his face.
“Sorry,” Brendon says. “I forgot you’d be back soon.”
Shane pushes by him. “You should just be glad that the bag with the eggs is still in the car.” He looks at the groceries spilled across their entryway and then at Brendon. “You’re decidedly unfit to go outside, so you’re in charge of cleaning this while I go get the rest of the bags.”
Shane takes more time that usual to get the remaining bags from the car. He thinks about his grandma’s floral pajamas until he’s ready to face Brendon again.
Shane always had an inkling that Brendon’s mouth was made for two very obvious things. The first was singing. The second was cocksucking.
Halfway through the best blowjob of his life, he starts to think that Brendon’s mouth is a little wasted on singing.
He wraps one hand in Brendon’s hair and grasps he kitchen counter with the other. “Stop fucking teasing,” he gasps.
He can feel Brendon trying to smile around his dick. Shane starts to laugh, but it turns into a low, throaty moan when Brendon opens his throat and swallows him all the way down.
When he gets close he tugs on Brendon’s hair to warn him, but Brendon doesn’t back down, just hollows his cheeks and sucks harder as Shane comes in his mouth. Brendon rubs Shane’s thighs through his orgasm, and then goes to the sink to spit and rinse his mouth.
Shane’s pants are still down around his ankles, but he knows if he leans down to pull them up, he’ll fall over.
“Brendon,” he says weakly, “uh, what just happened?”
Brendon quirks an eyebrow at him. “You’ve had a blowjob before, right?”
Shane throws a dishtowel at him; it’s the closest thing he has that won’t actually kill Brendon. “Yeah, asshole. But… why?”
Brendon shrugs. “You gonna pull your pants up?”
“What, are you the only one allowed to run around naked in this house?” he replies, even though, at the moment, Brendon is fully dressed.
“You’re the one that made the rule about pants.”
“Then I amend it to say one can be naked after a sex act as occurred.” He’s very pleased with the logic of his new rule.
“Awesome,” Brendon says, pushing down his sleep pants and pulling his shirt over his head.
Shane sighs. That wasn’t what he’d meant at all, but Brendon’s hard dick is just way too distracting. He wets his lips. “You going to do something about that?” he asks, motioning to Brendon’s hard on.
Brendon shrugs again. “Probably jerk off in a little bit. Don’t know. Unless you wanted to?”
Brendon tilts his head slightly. “Touch it?”
Shane stares, but says nothing.
“Or you could just let me rub against you until I come.”
Brendon’s skin is hot and soft, and Shane’s hands automatically move to cup Brendon’s ass. He flexes his fingers and pulls him close until Brendon comes, hot and slick against his hip.
Shane ducks his head down and kisses Brendon gently, thinking it’s a little strange that they’ve just had sex, but that this is their first kiss.
“Hi,” Shane says as they part.
“Hi back,” Brendon replies dreamily. “I’m feeling pretty good right now.”
Shane lets his fingers drag over the top of Brendon’s ass. “What should we do now?”
Brendon presses his face into Shane’s shoulder. “Snuggle. I want to snuggle.”
“Yeah, ok.” Shane steps out of his pants and pulls on Brendon’s arm. “My bed or yours?”
“Yours. I need to wash my sheets.”
By the weekend, Shane wants to do it again, but he doesn’t know what he did the first time to make it happen. He’d just been standing in the kitchen, trying to decide if he’d wanted cold pizza or leftover Chinese when Brendon had sauntered in, looked at him for a long moment and then dropped to his knees.
Shane starts to work out a tentative plan for doing it again, but it’s not coming together very well, but he can decide that the first, and arguably most important step of the plan is finding Brendon. Brendon’s lying on the couch when Shane finds him, not that he’d had to look very hard, they have an apartment, not a mansion. Shane desperately wants to ask if they could make out and snuggle. They don’t even have to fuck. He just wants to be up in Brendon’s personal space for a while.
Brendon glances up at him. “Hey.”
Shane swallows thickly. The plan had clearly not gotten further than find Brendon. He was hoping that it was just going to fall into place on it’s own. “Hey yourself.” He pauses and thinks. “Are we going to talk about the other day, or are we going to pretend it didn’t happen?” He blurts it out before he can even think to stop it. He really should have stopped and taken the time to make a real plan.
Brendon looks up at him with huge puppy eyes. “I’m sorry?”
Shane thinks that it’s not meant to be a question, but the intonation at the end makes it into one. “Why?”
Brendon casts his eyes downward. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
“What? I’m not good enough to fuck around with? Or are you worried that I’m going to kick you out if you don’t do it again or something?” His voice is tight, he’s angrier than he expected to be. It’s killing him to maybe be just a hookup.
Brendon curls into himself. “No. I just. You’re mad, aren’t you?”
“I am if you were just fucking around or felt like you owed me.”
Brendon shakes his head. “I wanted to. For a while now. Seemed like the time to do it.”
Shane softens instantly at Brendon’s words. Either he wasn’t that angry, or it just wasn’t that important. Either way, it’s done now. “Do you? You know? Again?” Shane purses his lips, angry at his own inability to form simple sentences.
Brendon nods and launches himself from the couch into Shane’s arms.
Shane wakes up dreaming about Brendon riding him. He doesn’t know why he’s waking up though, until he receives a hard elbow to the ribs accompanying the unhappy complaints coming from Brendon.
“What?” Shane asks before backing up slightly. Moving back was a little harder than expected.
“Please, please remove you dick from the vicinity of my ass,” was Brendon’s tight lipped reply.
“Fuck.” It hadn’t totally been a dream. He wasn’t in Brendon, but he was edging his way there and he knew Brendon had to be in pain. He himself had never placed any large, unlubricated objects into his own body… but there was a reason for that.
“Sorry,” Shane breathes, pulling away as gently as he could. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”
“Because the whole being spooned and humped thing was really nice. Right up until you started to violate me.”
“Let me look.”
“No, kindly stay away from my ass,” Brendon says, shifting away slightly.
Shane runs his hand along Brendon’s back. “Please,” he pleads. “Please let me make sure I didn’t hurt you.”
Brendon sighs but loosens his tightly wound body so that Shane can take a look. He’s red and a little swollen down there, but there doesn’t seem to be any bleeding. Shane rolls slightly so that he can grab the bottle of lotion from the nightstand. “I’m going to put some lotion on you, Brendon. Should help with the stinging.”
Brendon flinches a little when Shane rubs the lotion into the abused flesh and he realizes that it must be a little cold. “Sorry,” he whispers. “Better?”
“My traitor dick is hard.”
Shane moves up Brendon’s body and kisses his shoulder. “Can I maybe help with that?”
Brendon shrugs as best he can still lying on his side. “I’m hesitant, you know. I’d say blow me, but I don’t know if I can trust you not to use teeth.”
“I swear I won’t,” Shane says as he rolls Brendon onto his back. “Please let me suck you.”
“Dude,” Brendon says, grinning, “you’re totally begging to suck me off. This is awesome.”
Shane doesn’t say anything, just wraps his lips around Brendon’s cock.
Shane’s not the jealous type. He’s not. It’s not jealousy really; it’s more curiosity. Mostly because he really, really doesn’t want to be another of Brendon’s hook-ups, and though Brendon’s given him hope that he’s not, there’s still that little voice in the back of his brain. A little, evil voice that makes him say things that he regrets, or even if he doesn’t regret them, they come out all wrong at very wrong times.
“Did you fuck one roadie while sucking another in California?” he asks.
Brendon grunts and loosens his hold on Shane’s headboard. “Are you really asking that while you’re inside me? Because that’s pretty fucked up.”
Shane’s rhythm falters when it hits him that instead of just thinking the thing about the roadies, he’s actually said it out loud. “Nope,” he tries to cover. “I didn’t say anything.” Apparently, his ability to control the little voice is severely hampered by sex.
Brendon starts to pull away, but Shane holds him firmly. “Come on, I didn’t mean to ask that,” Shane tells him.
“Get your cock out of me right now,” Brendon says firmly.
Shane kisses Brendon’s back and reluctantly pulls out, gripping on the base of his cock to keep the condom on. “We don’t have to. I mean, fuck, I’m sorry. It’s not important. I can’t believe that I said that out loud.”
Brendon wraps himself in the sheets. “A pretty fucked up thing to be thinking about while you’re fucking me.”
“It was. I just. Fuck.” He reaches out, but Brendon pulls away. “Don’t be like that. Come back, we were having a really good time.”
“Yeah, a good time. Just what I’m good for. A good fucking time.” He steps out of bed, still wrapped in the sheet. “Call Brendon Urie for a good time. You want to invite a friend over or anything? Maybe you can see if I can take two cocks up his ass at the same time?”
“Brendon,” Shane says, reaching out for him. “Don’t talk like that. That’s not what I meant at all. Jesus.”
“For the record, I can’t,” Brendon tells him.
“Two at once.” And then he storms out.
It takes longer than Shane would have liked to figure out what he wanted to do, aside from maybe seeing a neurosurgeon to see if there’s a part of his brain that can be removed to get rid of his evil little voice. He decides that the first thing he needs to do is take off the condom and then gets pants. Then he needs to find Brendon and explain, and beg for forgiveness, and pretty much do anything to fix the big mess such a little voice created.
“Brendon, come on,” he says, tapping on Brendon’s door. “Let me in.” He tries to open the door, but Brendon’s locked it.
It sounds like Brendon’s crying and Shane’s heart breaks just a little. “Come on, let me in,” he demands.
“What, so you can finish? Sorry, I’m not in the mood anymore.” Brendon’s voice is clipped and harsh.
“No, it’s not that.”
“What? Am I not good enough?”
Shane sighs. Nothing was working out the way he wanted it to. None of the words were coming out right. “Yes, I want you, Brendon. But right now, it’s more important that we talk.”
There’s a shuffle and then Brendon cracks the door open, eyes red and face a little puffy. “What?”
“I want to talk.”
“You said that.”
“Are you going to let me in?”
Brendon shakes his head.
“Come on, Brendon.” Shane reaches to touch him, but Brendon flinches back. “I didn’t mean any of those things you said about yourself, and I hope to fuck that you didn’t mean them either.”
“I fucked a lot of people on tour.”
“Good for you?” Shane really doesn’t actually care about the other people. He thought maybe he did, but he really doesn’t.
Brendon shrugs. “It was like drinking. Fun for a while, tried it all on for size and then got tired of it.”
“You still drink,” Shane slips out and regrets it.
“Not like I did on the first tour. Instead of drinking everything, I just drink what I like, and only the amount that I’m comfortable with.”
Shane swallows thickly. “So, it’s the same with sex then?”
Brendon nods. “Only with the person that I choose, and only when I choose.”
“And you chose me?”
Brendon smiles. “I can’t believe it’s not obvious.”
“Oh, it is. I’m just thick skulled,” he says, knocking his fist against his head.
“OK, as long as you know now.” Brendon pulls on Shane’s sleeve. “Come. Snuggle time.”