Stories Jen doesn't have time to write, #967
Someone who is not me should totally write this story. I am currently making big huge puppy eyes at disarm_d. BIG HUGE PUPPY EYES.
* * *
"So we made this deal," Brendon says. "This charity thing, I dunno. I have to do...it's a thing."
"Yes," Shane says, because eventually, he knows, Brendon will come to the point, and then Shane will stop concentrating on Tetris and starts actually listening to him.
"They only needed one of us, so, like, we drew straws, and I got the short straw, and I still think Spencer rigged it, but whatever, Pete says it had to be me anyway..."
Shane really needs a pink L. He keeps getting the green ones, what the fuck is that?
"Zack said he doesn't think anyone really dangerous will be at this thing, it's all hoity-toity millionaires and shit, but you don't know these girls, they can do anything..."
Shane dissolves four rows, twice in a row. He goes up a level.
"So that's what I need you to do," Brendon finishes. "Save me."
"Wait, hold up," Shane says, pressing pause and rewinding the conversation in his head. "Did you say bachelor auction?"
"You have to do it," Brendon says, rushing because he probably anticipates that Shane is about to laugh at him for five minutes straight. "Otherwise it'll be some, I dunno, some crazy fan who makes pubic hair cookies, and not even Zack will be able to save me, Shane, help."
"Huh," Shane says. He starts playing Tetris again while he waits for Brendon to offer terms.
"I'll do the laundry for a month," is what Brendon opens with, and Shane just snorts, because Brendon will have to do so much better than that. "For six months. I'll take Dylan out every time, even in the morning. I'll...I'll do the dishes."
"A year," Shane says, because Brendon is never home anyway, he'll only end up doing it for a few months no matter what. "And?"
"And..." Brendon continues, and Shane thinks he might actually be able to hear the sound of Brendon's brains wracking. "I will be the sole supplier of all beer, drugs, and other controlled substances. Six months." Shane stays silent, and Brendon finally exhales. "A year, fine. Will you do it? Shane, you have to do it."
"Done," Shane agrees, because he's a good friend. "When's this thing again?"
* * *
"So we made this deal," Brendon says. "This charity thing, I dunno. I have to do...it's a thing."
"Yes," Shane says, because eventually, he knows, Brendon will come to the point, and then Shane will stop concentrating on Tetris and starts actually listening to him.
"They only needed one of us, so, like, we drew straws, and I got the short straw, and I still think Spencer rigged it, but whatever, Pete says it had to be me anyway..."
Shane really needs a pink L. He keeps getting the green ones, what the fuck is that?
"Zack said he doesn't think anyone really dangerous will be at this thing, it's all hoity-toity millionaires and shit, but you don't know these girls, they can do anything..."
Shane dissolves four rows, twice in a row. He goes up a level.
"So that's what I need you to do," Brendon finishes. "Save me."
"Wait, hold up," Shane says, pressing pause and rewinding the conversation in his head. "Did you say bachelor auction?"
"You have to do it," Brendon says, rushing because he probably anticipates that Shane is about to laugh at him for five minutes straight. "Otherwise it'll be some, I dunno, some crazy fan who makes pubic hair cookies, and not even Zack will be able to save me, Shane, help."
"Huh," Shane says. He starts playing Tetris again while he waits for Brendon to offer terms.
"I'll do the laundry for a month," is what Brendon opens with, and Shane just snorts, because Brendon will have to do so much better than that. "For six months. I'll take Dylan out every time, even in the morning. I'll...I'll do the dishes."
"A year," Shane says, because Brendon is never home anyway, he'll only end up doing it for a few months no matter what. "And?"
"And..." Brendon continues, and Shane thinks he might actually be able to hear the sound of Brendon's brains wracking. "I will be the sole supplier of all beer, drugs, and other controlled substances. Six months." Shane stays silent, and Brendon finally exhales. "A year, fine. Will you do it? Shane, you have to do it."
"Done," Shane agrees, because he's a good friend. "When's this thing again?"