Everything Else | Brendon/Shane | NC-17 | 25 000 words | Part Three
Notes | Part One | Part Two | Part Three
--
*
--
Shane stumbles over to the kitchen table while Brendon's drinking the last of his cereal-milk out of the bowl. Shane's still in his pyjamas, and Brendon would guess that he only just dragged himself out of bed, even though it's after noon. Brendon has to be at the studio by one, and he's dressed and showered already.
Brendon carries his bowl over to the sink, then walks back to the table.
"You going to eat?" he asks, gesturing to the box of Frosted Flakes on the table.
"Not yet," Shane says, so Brendon closes up the box and puts it away in the cupboard.
Shane yawns loudly, pushing his hair away from his face. He still has a pillow crease on his cheek. Brendon wonders if Shane's back is still stiff, or if he's feeling better today. He doesn't know how to ask without making things awkward.
Brendon looks at the clock on the microwave, then walks over to grab his phone off the counter.
"I've got to get going," he says. "You want me to pick up anything for dinner?"
Shane scrunches up his face, thinking, then says, "Nah, I'm just going to make chicken. We bought those legs and thighs; maybe I'll just cook them in the oven with barbecue sauce. I think we've got some potatoes, too."
"Mashed potatoes?" Brendon asks, his voice coming out a little more enthusiastically than he means it to.
Shane blinks, and then shakes his head, laughing. "Yeah, we can have mashed potatoes," Shane says.
"Awesome," Brendon says. "I dunno what time we're going to be finished, but I'll give you a call when I'm leaving the studio."
"M'kay," Shane says, yawning again.
"I made a big pot of coffee, and put it in the carafe for you," Brendon calls from the hallway, bending over to tie up his shoes. "See you at supper."
"Good luck recording," Shane shouts.
--
They've been trying to figure out the same five bars for the last two hours.
"I'm going go to take a leak," Brendon finally says, ducking out of the room.
Brendon takes as long as he can in the bathroom, washing his hands twice. He even splashes cold water onto his face.
He walks back into the studio to find Ryan and Spencer arguing about whether or not the song needs more cowbell.
--
"Hello!" Brendon yells, kicking off his shoes.
"In the kitchen," Shane calls out.
Shane's standing in front of the sink, draining a pot of potatoes.
Brendon grabs the milk and the butter from the fridge. He pours the milk in while Shane hunts around for the potato masher.
Brendon shaves away bits of butter, pushing them away from the wrapper and into the pot with the edge of the metal spoon he's using.
"Dude, I think that's enough," Shane finally says.
"It'll be good," Brendon insists, shaking another chunk in.
"How was recording?" Shane asks.
"Not bad," Brendon says. "What did you get up to?"
"Met with Brian again. The script is basically done, so we're just trying to figure out who's actually going to be in this fucker."
"Cool," Brendon says. "Where are you thinking you're doing to film?"
"I dunno yet," Shane says. "There're a couple of scenes that need to be shot outside, so I guess I've got to start seeing about where we can get shooting permits. Maybe that park that you take Dylan to."
"It's nice there," Brendon says. He sets the butter on the counter, but doesn't move away, standing close beside Shane and watching as he mashes the potatoes.
He zones out for a minute, watching the movement of Shane's hand, then blinks and says, "These look good," just to have something to say.
"Hope so," says Shane. He taps the masher on the side of the bowl to get rid of the last clinging clumps of potatoes, then sets it on the counter, his arm brushing Brendon's t-shirt in the reach.
--
"'m so full," Brendon groans, patting his belly sadly as he lies on the couch.
"You didn't have to eat all of the potatoes," Shane says, sitting on the floor and scratching Dylan's belly.
"I did," Brendon insists.
"Uh huh."
Shane pushes himself off the floor, then flops down, resting most of his weight on Brendon's stomach.
"No!" Brendon groans, trying to twist away. "I'm going to explode."
"That will be quite the mess of mashed potatoes and blood to clean up," Shane says. "And whatever else Brendons are made of. Maybe some guts and stuff."
"And brains," Brendon says. He pushes himself up so that there's room for the two of them on the couch, and so that Shane's elbow is nowhere near his stomach.
They had a few beers with supper, and now Shane's mouth looks soft and happy. His hair is tucked behind his ears, but there are still pieces flying everywhere. Brendon feels full and warm and kind of horny.
"How's your neck?" Brendon asks.
Shane's face changes a little. He pauses before saying, "Umm, it's good. Thanks."
Brendon nods. They're sitting pressed together on the couch. Brendon has his legs folded up beneath him. He only has to move a few inches to touch his mouth to Shane's, but that's not really a good reason for doing it. There's none of the accidental and confusing intimacy from last night, just the two of them on their couch in their t-shirts. There isn't any good reason for kissing Shane again, except that his mouth looked soft and his eyes were crinkly around the corners. And that Brendon wanted to.
Shane's mouth feels soft too, but it doesn't feel like Shane's kissing back. Brendon tries again, making his mouth gentler, kissing with closed lips and lingering as long as he can, but Shane still doesn't move.
Brendon pulls back.
His hand was resting loosely on Shane's shoulder, and he lets go, cupping both his hands around his thighs and looking down.
"Don't do that," Shane says, really quietly.
"Okay," Brendon says, rubbing his palms up and down so that the denim rasps.
"Just because you saw- just because you saw the other night doesn't mean that, it doesn't mean-"
Brendon is still looking down, so all he can see is Shane's fingers digging into the couch.
"There are about a million other people that you can hook up with," Shane says.
"Okay," says Brendon. "I know that."
"I got over the whole fuck buddy thing when I was- I don't know, after I was your age."
Brendon rolls his eyes - Shane isn't that much older- but Shane continues before he has the chance to say anything.
"So if you're looking for a blowjob you'll have to, fucking, get off our couch and stop being such a lazy bastard." Shane's probably trying to make it into a joke, but it doesn't really work.
"I'm not being lazy," Brendon says. "And I wasn't trying to get you to blow me, so fuck off. I'm not that much of a dick."
Brendon didn't explicitly think to himself that he was going to try to get Shane to give him a blowjob, anyway. It wasn't something that he would have totally taken off the table though. Probably this wouldn't be a good time to mention that.
"Right," Shane says flatly. "Dude, whatever. I go out with you all the time; I already know what all of your lines are, and I already know how this would go."
"You do not," Brendon insists. "Anyway, I was totally planning on blowing you, so stop being such a pussy."
Shane gives him a look that clearly says, Who do you think you're fooling because you're not fooling me?
Brendon looks at his hands on his thighs and at Shane's hands on the couch, and he looks up at Shane's face and asks, "Are you still saying no?" He wasn't really planning on saying that, which is probably why his voice sounded all low and weird.
Shane looks him, and Brendon waits for his brain to start freaking out, or for his mouth to blurt out something like, 'Just kidding,' but nothing happens.
Shane looks at him and Brendon looks back.
--
It's weird how hard it is to actually get Shane's dick wet. Brendon keeps getting stuck, his dry lips catching on skin and refusing to slide down further. It's not like he thinks he's going to be able to get the whole thing inside his mouth - he's not sure how much more there is; it's hard to tell from this angle. Inches? Probably? - but still he thinks this is more awkward than it has to be.
He uses his hand to try and spread some of his saliva down. He has to keep his mouth there, keep trying to suck up more wetness from under his tongue and get it onto Shane's dick before he can move it down with his hand. He hopes that Shane doesn't know what he's doing because obviously he's missing some important step; he can't remember any of this difficulty from all of the times that he's been on the receiving end of a blowjob. Maybe it's just one of those things that you can't tell is happening when it's happening to you. Maybe Shane won't know.
Brendon considers just spitting to be done with it, but he's getting there, and anyway, it's probably a good idea that he's using his hand. Mouths are awesome and soft and wet and hot and soft, mostly, and it's hard to come just from that gentle pressure. Brendon's been with some girls who could get him off with just their mouths, but they could somehow get this suction thing going, and Brendon knows he's not managing anything like that. He doesn't know how they managed it, actually. He has to open his mouth up really wide just to fit Shane's dick inside, and then there are his teeth. He doesn't know how he'd be able to start sucking without closing his mouth some, and then he'd probably clip Shane with his teeth.
Brendon doesn't actually mind teeth all that much: that slow, raw scrape up the bottom of his dick, that dull kind of sharp pleasure. There's probably a trick to that too, though, and anyway Brendon's heard lots of other guys complaining about getting scraped, so it's likely a thing that he's in the minority for liking.
Shane's belly is quivering. Brendon can't see Shane's face because of the angle, but when he looks up, he can see the movement of Shane's stomach. It's good that he can see something. Shane's being so quiet; there're no sounds to go off of and Brendon doesn't know if any of what he's doing is actually working for Shane.
At least his mouth and hand move easily now.
Brendon closes his eyes and pays attention to the feel of Shane's dick moving in his mouth. It's not a bad feeling, even though Brendon's jaw is starting to get tired. Brendon works into a rhythm, bobbing up and down. He moves his hand in time with his mouth, which is probably kind of boring, but Brendon isn't sure what else to do. He feels a little bored, anyway. Hopefully it isn't boring for Shane.
Brendon tightens his hand and gives a hard twist with his tongue each time his mouth pulls up on the head of Shane's dick. It's not long before his tongue gets that weird achy feeling down the center, but it's nowhere near as bad as when he eats out girls, so he just keeps on going.
Brendon's drooling all down his hand now. It's too wet, probably. Hard to get the balance right there. He closes his lips tighter and tries to swallow some of his saliva away, and Shane makes this noise, just soft and breathy, but Brendon's never heard him sound like that before. Brendon tries to replicate what he did to get the noise, keeps trying to suck, and Shane doesn't make that noise again, but he makes another one, lower this time, and then all of a sudden there's bitterness flooding Brendon's mouth.
Brendon thinks that maybe he'll just wait here and then find somewhere to spit it out, but there's so much, way more than he can fit in his mouth, given how much space Shane's dick is already taking up. Brendon tries to swallow, but it doesn't really work and mostly Brendon just ends up slobbering everywhere and trying not to gag.
He pulls back, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and tries to use his arm to hide the face that he's making. It's not a personal insult or whatever, but Brendon knows it's bad etiquette to critique another dude's jizz. He always hates it when girls make a fuss.
Shane isn't wearing any pants, but he's still got his t-shirt on. His hair is sticking to his forehead and his thighs are spread apart, resting loosely on either side of Brendon's knees. Brendon's still fully clothed. Brendon's not used to being the person in the room who's wearing the most clothes.
Brendon rubs at his face again, using his other hand because the first one is still all sticky. He kind of wants to blow his nose; hopefully he didn't accidentally snort up any of Shane's spunk.
Brendon looks at Shane's thighs for a little while, just because they're right there. He spreads out his fingers over Shane's bare skin. Shane's a little bit paler and a little bit pinker than Brendon is.
Shane's still awake, but he's breathing really deeply and blinking really slowly, and Brendon moves to one side of Shane, lying down on the bed and resting his head on Shane's stomach.
Brendon's still hard, which kind of surprises him. Not so hard that he has to do anything about it right away, though. He's okay just lying here for a minute.
Shane reaches down and cards his fingers through Brendon's hair, and it's embarrassing how good it feels to be touched like that. Brendon turns so that he's lying on his back, his body sideways on the bed. This way, when Shane's hand sweeps through Brendon's hair, his palm brushes over Brendon's forehead, too.
Brendon can feel Shane's belly move as he breathes. If Brendon weren't still dressed, maybe he'd be getting cold now. He wonders if Shane's cold. Shane's hand doesn't feel cold. His palm is just a little cooler than Brendon's forehead, but Brendon always runs at a higher body temperature anyway.
Shane keeps stroking his hand over Brendon's forehead, pushing his hair back. He does it enough times that Brendon's hair starts staying back all on its own. Brendon kind of feels like he doesn't want to look Shane in the face, and he kind of wishes that he weren't wearing clothes right now, and he kind of wants to be back in his own room, and he kind of wants to just fall asleep right here.
Shane's hand rests of Brendon's forehead for a moment, and then his fingers move down, trailing over Brendon's cheek. His thumb brushes Brendon's lip, just awkwardly from the side but somehow after that Brendon's whole body feels hot. He's still hard, but it's worse now because he's hard and also his belly feels tight, and Shane's thumb moves over Brendon's lip again. Brendon opens his mouth, just a little, just a tiny bit so that his lips aren't pressed tightly together. Shane presses his thumb to the center of Brendon's lip, and it makes Brendon want to open his mouth and it makes Brendon want something to bite down on.
He exhales, loud and shaky, then sits up, pushing Shane's hand away in the process.
Shane doesn't say anything, even though Brendon sits at the edge of the bed for a minute, waiting, so Brendon stands up and walks out of Shane's room, walks to his own bedroom and closes the door.
He yanks off all of his own clothes and lies down on top of the comforters and starts to jerk off, his dick wet with only precome. He thinks about how he didn't lock the door and he thinks about how Shane's room is down the hall and how Shane isn't asleep yet, and how Shane could walk over.
It's kind of weird that Shane's in the category of people that Brendon associates with sex, now. He doesn't think that Shane was always in that category. Probably not before Brendon knew that Shane hooks up with dudes, anyway. Brendon doesn't know what changed, except that maybe he'd never really thought it was was an option before.
Brendon cups his balls with one hand, pulls up hard with the other one, and comes all over his own chest.
--
*
--
Brendon walks into the kitchen to pick up his keys.
"I used up the last of the milk," Shane says, sitting at the table and eating a bowl of cereal.
"Kay, I'll buy more on the way home. We need anything else?" Brendon asks.
"Maybe grab another box of some kind of cereal," Shane says. "We need to go on a full grocery trip. Maybe I'll go tomorrow. Anyway, just get something so that there'll be breakfast for a few days in case I don't."
"Yeah, sure," Brendon says. "I haven't fed Dylan yet, and she needs to go outside."
"Will do," Shane says.
"Have you seen my stripy hoodie?"
"Which stripy hoodie?" Shane asks.
"The green one."
"I think that's in the wash," Shane says. "You're just going to the studio, though, you don't need a hoodie."
"What's that?" Brendon asks, walking to the table and grabbing the sweater that's hanging off the back of the chair. "Is this mine?"
"I think it's mine," Shane says.
Brendon pulls it over his head, without bothering with the zipper.
"See you tonight," Brendon says, reaching out and touching his fingers to Shane's shoulder as he walks by.
--
They finish recording the song that'll probably be their next single, and then they decide to head for the parking lot to take a little break.
"We should have had Shane here filming," Ryan says, passing the joint over to Jon.
"Yeah, we could've have some kind of behind the scenes at the recording studio thing," Jon says. "Maybe he could come in on Monday and we could pretend to record it again."
"Or he could film us recording another song," Spencer says.
"Or he could film us pretending to record another song," Jon agrees.
Spencer grabs the joint away from Jon.
"We'll have more than one single," Brendon says. "He could film whatever and we'll figure something out. He's, um, he's working on this short film, so I dunno when he'd have time to come down."
Brendon had his mouth on Shane's dick last night. He wonders if anyone can tell.
"Ask him when he'll have time," Spencer says.
"Yeah, ask, ask him when he can come down to record us pretending to film something," Jon says in a tight voice, because he's trying to speak without actually exhaling.
--
"We were wondering if you'd have a chance to come down and film us in the studio sometime next week," Brendon calls out as he unloads the groceries he bought.
Shane's watching TV and he calls out, "When were you thinking?"
Brendon puts the milk in the fridge and grabs a couple bottles of beer.
"I dunno," he says, sitting down on the couch beside Shane and passing one of the bottles to him. "I told them that you're already working on something. So, just kind of whenever's good for you, I guess."
"That'd be cool," Shane says. "Just let me double check with Brian, and I'll let you know."
Brendon takes a long sip of beer, then reaches down to scratch Dylan's head. Dylan is lying on the floor, her chin resting on one of Brendon's feet.
"Pizza will be here soon," Shane says. "I made the order like ten minutes before you got in the door."
"Cool," Brendon says, resting the bottle on his stomach, his fingers wrapped loosely around it, and leaning back.
He looks sideways at Shane, but Shane's staring straight forward at the TV.
--
*
--
Brendon has the day off, and he can't decide if he should just stay in bed all afternoon, or if he should try and get some shopping done. He kind of wants to buy a new pair of sneakers, but he's run out of room in his closet, so he'd probably have to do some cleaning first. He knows for sure that he doesn't feel like doing any cleaning. Maybe he could just sneak some of his other shoes into Shane's closet.
Brendon looks at his bedside table, trying to see if he left his phone there. Maybe he'll send Spencer a text and see if he's busy this afternoon. Spencer's always the most fun to look for shoes with.
"I'll see you in a bit," Shane calls out.
Brendon gets out of bed and walks down the hall.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"To coffee," Shane says. "With Regan."
"Dude, what?" Brendon says. "You're getting back together with her?"
"What? No," Shane says. "Coffee."
"Uh huh," Brendon says.
"We're still friends," Shane says. "Friends go for coffee with each other sometimes."
"Sure thing," Brendon says. "Have fun being friends."
Shane rolls his eyes. "So, next time she calls, I should tell her that we can't meet for coffee because we've broken up?"
"I'm not saying that," Brendon says. "It's cool. Whatever. It's just that I would have thought it'd be awkward to see her so soon after breaking up, you know? 'Cause, what? You dated and now, what, you're just going to go back to being friends?"
"Sometimes people can just break up because the relationship doesn't work," Shane snaps. "It doesn't always mean that they stop liking each other, or that they never liked each other in the first place, or whatever the fuck else you've learned from the obviously deeply meaningful relationships you've had."
"Fuck off," Brendon mutters, turning around and walking back to his bedroom. He lets the door slam shut, then stands in the center of the room, listening for the sounds of Shane leaving the house. It takes a little bit, but eventually Brendon hears the front door open and close, and Brendon can go into the living room and turn on the Wii.
--
He's still playing when Shane comes back home. He can hear Shane standing in the doorway, but he stares at the screen and keeps playing until finally Shane walks the rest of the way into the room and sits down on the couch beside him.
Brendon counts to ten in his head and then presses pause.
He doesn't say anything, and Shane doesn't say anything, and the moment stretches on and on until Brendon gets bored enough to break the silence.
"How was coffee?" he asks.
"Fine," Shane says.
"When are you seeing her again?"
"I dunno," Shane says. Then, "Seriously, Brendon, I'm not getting back together with her."
"Fine," Brendon says. "Cool. Okay, fine."
"You're such a fucking dickwad about this stuff."
"Fuck you," Brendon says. "What stuff?"
"Stuff about, like, the people you fuck, that stuff. I know it's incomprehensible for you to be friends with someone after you've stuck your dick inside of them, but it's not like that for everyone."
"That's bullshit," Brendon says, jumping off the couch and standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed against his chest. "Anyway, that's not with people I'm dating, so fuck off."
"Because you don't date anyone," Shane says. "You never- it's always just sex for you."
Brendon opens his mouth to fire something back, but he makes himself take a breath first. "I don't think I know what you're talking about," Brendon finally says.
"You always, like, you're always just fucking around, and, I mean." Shane scrubs his hand through his hair. "We're roommates."
"I know we're roommates," Brendon says, slowly. "I'm not going to fuck that up. We'll always be roommates."
Shane goes even tenser, and then rubs his forehead. "Yeah, sure. Got it. Okay."
"Okay," Brendon repeats. Brendon's not too sure what's going on here, but Shane looks pissed and Brendon feels awkward.
He waits to see if Shane says anything else, but Shane stays quiet.
"Um, do you want to order food tonight?" Brendon asks. "We could get it from that Chinese place you like."
Shane's quiet for a moment, like he's still angry and he hasn't decided if he's going to let it go, but in the end he rolls his eyes and says, "Yeah, fine. We can order from the Chinese place."
"Or somewhere else, if you want," Brendon offers.
"Chinese is fine," Shane says. "Call me when it gets here." And then he gets up and walks off to his bedroom.
Brendon stands in the room by himself, and replays the conversation in his head. That doesn't help to make any more sense of it.
He uncrosses his arms, rubs the back of his neck, and then starts searching for the menu to the Chinese restaurant that Shane likes.
--
"I had jalapeno and cheddar spring rolls once," Brendon insists.
"Dude, that's not a fucking spring roll," Shane says, rolling his eyes. The meal started off awkward, but they've each had a few bottles of beer, and now Shane's actually engaging in conversation instead of just nodding along while Brendon babbles.
"Well, that's what they were called," Brendon says.
"You can't have spring rolls with cheese," Shane says.
"Kay, except that I did," Brendon says. He's mostly just trying to get a rise out of Shane at this point.
Shane huffs. He grabs the last spring roll out of the container in the center of the table. "I'm eating this," he announces. "Since you don't even know how to appreciate it."
Brendon shrugs, then surreptitiously tries to drop a little bit of rice onto the floor for Dylan, who's sitting at his feet and staring up at him.
"Stop feeding the dog," Shane says, without looking up.
--
*
--
"We should go out tonight," Shane says, once they've finished putting the leftover pizza in the fridge.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "I'd be down with that." It's been a long week of recording, but he's got the weekend off. There was pizza waiting for him when he got home and it's shaping up to be a pretty sweet night. He can feel himself starting to unwind.
Shane bends over and pulls the bottle of vodka out of the freezer. He lifts it up and shakes it gently, and Brendon nods, yeah, turning around to grab a shot glass.
Shane unscrews the top and takes a couple of long drinks.
--
Brendon's happy and drunk and still kind of stoned from earlier and he wants to dance.
It's crowded but not packed. When Brendon lifts up his arms, he can feel bodies all around him. There's enough space to move, though. He lifts up his arms and closes his eyes and moves with the music.
He and Shane do that bro-dancing thing, where they stand side by side, kind of, with plenty of space in between them. It's not long before a couple of girls dance in a little closer. Brendon watches Shane out of the corner of his eye, and when Shane's hands end up on the hips of one girl, Brendon lets himself do the same.
The girl he's dancing with is wearing a purple halter top that lifts to show her navel. Her skirt flares out a little and it moves when she dances. Brendon moves his hands from her hips to her lower back, feeling bare skin.
Shane's off to Brendon's right. There are people in between them, but Brendon can still see Shane. Brendon had thought that Shane was into partying tonight - he drank more than Brendon did while they were waiting for the cab to come - but now that they're at the club, he looks kind of- kind of like he's not really into it after all.
Brendon wonders if Shane drank too much.
The girl he's dancing with turns in his arms, and Brendon's fingers end up on her stomach. He can feel the way her stomach tightens as she rolls her hips back against his. Her skin is soft and sticky.
Shane is still dancing, but he looks tired. The girl keeps trying to start grinding with him, but it doesn't look like he's helping much.
Brendon's girl turns back around to face him, and he smiles at her.
The song ends and another one starts and when Brendon looks over again, Shane isn't where he last was. Brendon thinks he's lost him for a moment, but then he sees that Shane's actually walking toward him.
"I'm not really - I'm just going to get a cab," Shane says. He's standing close beside Brendon and yelling to make up for the volume of the music. "I'll catch you later."
Shane starts walking out of the club without waiting for an answer.
"Sorry," Brendon mouths to the girl he was dancing with, and then he takes off after Shane, pushing his way through the crowd. Shane makes it outside before Brendon does, and Brendon ends up having to yell, "Wait up," down the street.
Shane turns around, giving Brendon the chance to catch up.
"I'm just going to peace out," Shane says. "I'll see you later."
"No, it's cool," Brendon says. "We can just watch a movie or something."
"You should stay," Shane says, slurring his s's a little.
"Nah, I'm kind of hungry for leftover pizza, anyway," Brendon says.
They've been walking down the street together, fast, since Shane's setting the pace, but then Shane stops abruptly.
"I'm not going to- I'm not hooking up with you tonight," Shane says. There are other people around, and Shane's doing that loud whisper thing.
"Okay," Brendon says. "Yeah, I know."
"So you should just- go back in there," Shane says. "There's no reason for you to follow me home."
"Yeah, it's just that I'm kind of hungry, anyway," Brendon repeats. "And maybe we could watch a movie."
Shane makes a frustrated noise, and then turns around and starts walking again.
They don't speak during the cab ride, and when they get back to their place, Shane storms into the house while Brendon lingers behind to pay.
He walks into the house and finds Shane on his hands and knees in front of the toilet, throwing up.
Shane doesn't like anyone too close when he's puking, so Brendon slides to the floor of the bathroom, leaning back against the bathtub.
Shane sits back on his heels. He's all sweaty and his eyes are glassy.
"How much did you have to drink?" Brendon asks, reaching behind himself to grab a washcloth out of the tub. He passes it over to Shane.
Shane wipes his face. "I dunno," he says. "More than I meant to. I was drinking while I was waiting for the pizza to get here, too. Beer before liquor and all that."
Brendon makes a sympathetic face. He's ended a night of drinking with a round of puking more times than he can count. Brendon's a puker, though. Shane usually just ends up with horrible hangovers.
"You done now?" Brendon asks.
Shane sits quietly for a minute then says, "Yeah, I think so."
Brendon climbs to his feet, then helps Shane stand up, too.
Shane sways, so Brendon leaves a hand on his shoulder, guiding him over to the sink.
"Still drunk?" Brendon asks, and Shane nods unhappily. If he's still drunk after puking, it means that he's either doing to keep puking, or he's going to be feeling like shit tomorrow. Maybe both.
"You brush your teeth, and I'm going to get you some water."
"I'm definitely going to puke if I drink water," Shane says, reaching for his toothbrush.
"Just a little," Brendon says.
He walks to the kitchen and fills up a big glass with water. When he comes back to the bathroom, the toothbrush is still in Shane's mouth, and there's toothpaste dripping down his chin. Brendon grabs the handle of the toothbrush, and waits while Shane rinses his mouth, then passes him the glass of water.
Shane takes a couple of sips before trying to pass it back.
"Just a little more," Brendon says.
Shane takes a couple more sips, then gives the glass back to Brendon. Brendon just sets it on the counter - he'll get it in the morning or something - then walks with Shane to his bedroom.
Shane pulls off his t-shirt and jeans, then lies down on top of his comforters, while Brendon turns off the lights.
"Roll over," Brendon says, grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling until Shane has moved over enough. "'Kay, there." Brendon helps cover Shane up.
Shane lies on his back and closes his eyes, and Brendon sits on the edge of the bed. He pushes Shane's hair away from his face, then touches lightly over Shane's cheeks, his forehead.
Shane opens his eyes and Brendon freezes. Shane doesn't say anything though, just lies there and watches Brendon in the dark, and Brendon combs his fingers through Shane's hair and waits until Shane's eyes close again.
Eventually, Shane rolls over, turning toward the middle of the bed.
Brendon lies down, still pushed close to the edge of the bed. He wraps his arm around Shane's waist, just so that he has something to hold on to.
--
Brendon wakes, and he still knows where he is and why he's there, so that must mean that he wasn't asleep for too long. He's cold though, lying there in a t-shirt.
Instead of going back to his own room, he squirms around until he finds the edge of the blanket, and then wiggles under the comforters, where it's warm from Shane's body heat.
Brendon scoots over until he's closer to the center of the bed and presses himself up along Shane's back, resting his forehead against Shane's shoulder.
--
"Stop throwing up so that we can go back to bed," Brendon says, scratching his belly and squinting in the early morning light. He leans against the door frame of the bathroom.
Shane lifts his hand up with his middle finger raised, and continues retching into the toilet.
--
"You wanna smoke up?" Brendon asks. "Maybe that would help your stomach."
Shane looks over at Brendon. He's lying on the couch, covered in blankets. There's a water glass on the table in front of him, but it's still mostly full.
"I think I'm just going to stay here and wait for death," Shane says. "Thanks anyway."
"M'kay," Brendon says, leaning over to give Shane's toe a squeeze. "I'm going to go walk Dylan. I promise not to do anything weird with your corpse when I get back."
"Thanks," Shane mumbles, pulling his blankets up higher.
--
*
--
"Morning, sunshine," Brendon says when Shane finally stumbles out of his bedroom the next day.
Shane grunts out something like, Morning, lifting his hands up and arching his back, stretching.
He yawns loudly then says, "Wanna try and make pancakes?"
"Oh, today you're hungry," Brendon laughs, following Shane into the kitchen.
--
The chocolate chips totally aren't melting, even though the pancakes are still steaming. Isn't chocolate supposed to melt easily? They must have some defective chocolate chips or something. Brendon totally should have just used chocolate sauce, like Shane did.
Instead, he melts on some more butter.
--
"The good thing about being hungover is that the next day you feel so good," Shane says, drawing out the o's in the last two words.
Brendon laughs. Shane passes him a mixing bowl and Brendon starts wiping it with the dish towel.
"So the next time you're hugging porcelain I should remind you of this?" Brendon asks.
"Maybe not while I'm actually in the process of puking," Shane says, making a face. He rinses off the spatula and passes it to Brendon.
Shane finishes washing the dishes, then turns to Brendon, holding his hand out for the dish towel so that he can dry his hands off. Shane's t-shirt is wet across the belly from dishwater. His hair is greasy and he hasn't shaved in a couple of days, and when he reaches for the dish towel, Brendon keeps hold of one end, and then he bounces up on his toes and kisses Shane softly on the mouth. He lingers for a moment, then rests back on his heels. They're still each holding one end of the dish towel.
Shane licks his lips, then closes his mouth, looking down and frowning.
"I don't get what your thing is," he says, quietly. "Have I managed to turn this into some kind of challenge for you?"
"What?" Brendon asks, recoiling in surprise. "What? No. It's not a thing and it's not a challenge. It's just- you. It's just you."
"You never even hook up with dudes," Shane says.
"Sometimes I hook up with dudes," Brendon says.
Shane makes an I don't believe you face, which is maybe a diss on Brendon's blowjob skills, but Brendon chooses not to dwell on that.
"I have," Brendon says. Brendon's gotten blowjobs from guys before; he has hooked up with dudes.
"Either way. I like this," Shane says, gesturing around the kitchen. Around their kitchen. "I'm not going to let you fuck this up for us."
Brendon looks Shane right in the eye and says, "I know you're not. That's kind of the point."
"Brendon, what?" Shane says. "Can you just actually say what you're thinking for once?"
"I guess, I mean, I guess I just used to think that we already had everything there was to have, and now I think that, you know. I think that we could have more." Brendon starts fiddling with the edge of the dish towel until he remembers that Shane's still holding the other end and he forces his hands into stillness.
"I told you," Shane says. "I'm over the whole fuck buddies thing."
"I'm not talking about fuck buddies," Brendon says.
"You never date," says Shane.
"I think that I never really wanted to because, because I always got everything else from you," Brendon says. He bites the inside of his cheek and quirks his lips to the side.
It sounds pretty stupid now that he's actually said it out loud. It sounded pretty stupid in his head, too, so he tried not to think about it too much.
It'll feel even stupider if Shane doesn't know what he's talking about.
Shane says, "Oh," then stands quietly for a long minute.
Brendon wonders what he's thinking, and then he decides that he's glad he doesn't know. He wouldn't mind a little hint though.
Finally Brendon blurts out, "You said that you weren't going to let me fuck this up, so, now, if I've, I mean. So, if I was wrong, you can't, you can't, you have to - you said you weren't going to let me fuck this up."
Shane lets go of the towel, and reaches for Brendon instead, cupping his arms just above the elbow. He says, "You weren't wrong," and really that's all that Brendon needed to hear, because he surges up after that, tilting his face for a kiss, and Shane meets him halfway.
It was hot before, kissing Shane. It was hot before, but nothing like what it's like now, because Shane has his hands on Brendon's arms and he pushes him backwards until Brendon's backed up against the counter and kisses Brendon back.
Brendon arches forward. He waits until Shane lets go of his arms before reaching for him, wrapping one hand around his neck and reaching for his hip with the other. Shane slides his thigh in between Brendon's legs and Brendon grunts and shivers and sucks on Shane's tongue.
It kind of feels like all these little pieces sliding into place and it kind of feels like Brendon's going to come in his pants. He bites Shane's lip, hard, and Shane just pushes his thigh up and grinds their hips together.
They finally break apart, breathing harshly. Brendon leaves his fingers curled around Shane's neck, and Shane ducks his head to press their foreheads together.
"Let's go to bed," Brendon whispers.
Shane nods and lets Brendon pull him by the hand down the hall and into his bedroom.
--
Brendon's totally had fingers up his ass before. Girls sometimes like to do that when they're giving blowjobs, and Brendon never makes a fuss. Letting a girl put her fingers up his ass is one of the best ways to ensure that she'll let him put his dick up her ass. It feels good, or it feels fine or whatever. It's not bad, but it's not something that Brendon likes enough to do when he's by himself.
Except that it's never felt like this before. Brendon doesn't even know what Shane's doing, but he's got two fingers in Brendon's ass and his mouth around Brendon's dick and Brendon's legs started shaking and they won't stop.
Brendon doesn't think that Shane's hinting at anything; he started blowing Brendon and then he pulled off and leaned over to grab the bottle of cream off the floor, and then he slid his finger in slowly. He went back to blowing Brendon after that, and he's got this rhythm going, this up and down thing and there's suction and his mouth is really fucking wet, not like he's just trying to keep Brendon interested or anything; like he's trying to get Brendon off. And Brendon is. Brendon's going to come, it's just that Shane's fingers are doing this thing and it doesn't even feel like anything in particular except that something about it is making Brendon sweat.
Brendon spreads his thighs even wider and tilts his hips up, which is great because it gets his dick further into Shane's mouth and Shane's fingers further into Brendon's ass.
Brendon is totally going to come like a motherfucker any minute now, except that he doesn't quite want to.
Shane pulls up, sucking hard the whole time, and then his tongue starts licking over the head of Brendon's dick and his fingers twist in and up, and, "Oh shit, fuck. Stop," Brendon gasps. "Stop."
Shane pulls his head up, just to quickly say, "Sorry," and then he moves his fingers out of Brendon's ass and he doesn't put them back in.
He pulls his fingers out and he starts blowing Brendon again, and, "No, shit, I mean." Brendon touches his hand gently to Shane's head and tries to pull him off without tugging on his hair. "Not, um. Not - can you keep, can you keep doing that with your fingers?"
Shane looks surprised, and says, "This?"
He starts rubbing his fingers over Brendon's hole again, so Brendon says, "Yeah, yes," because he doesn't want for there to be any confusion.
Shane's fingers feel good, even without his mouth on Brendon's dick. It doesn't feel as much like Brendon's going to shoot off immediately, but that's good, too, in a weird way. Brendon feels like his skin is frying and there's this dull flare spreading through his pelvis and Shane is hardly moving his hand so Brendon doesn't know how things can feel this intense, but they do.
He lifts his arm up to wipe the sweat off of his face and then leaves it there, his forearm covering his eyes, when he says, "Shane, come on."
"What?" Shane asks. He twists his hand around so that his thumb is rubbing up against the skin behind Brendon's balls and jesus, fuck, fuck.
Brendon gasps, "Shane," and then he says, "get a fucking condom already."
Shane freezes.
Brendon pulls his arm away from his eyes and asks, "What?"
"Have you, have you done that before?" Shane asks.
Brendon shakes his head, and then Shane shakes his head right back. "I'll blow you," he says.
Brendon pushes himself up on his elbows and looks down at Shane.
"I want to fuck," Brendon says.
Shane says, "You don't have to prove anything." He rubs his clean hand over Brendon's thigh. Brendon wonders if he can feel the way the muscles are still kind of shaking there. Shane's fingers are still in his ass, but they aren't moving like they were before, so the shaking has gotten a little better.
"I know that," Brendon says. He lies back down. "So stop being a pussy and go get a fucking condom already."
Shane pulls his hand away entirely and crawls up the bed, lying down beside Brendon. He holds himself up with one elbow and thumbs Brendon's nipple with his other hand.
"I totally don't even have any condoms," Shane says. "Why don't we just, I dunno, we can just work up to it."
Shane's thumb rubs in a circle and Brendon's dick twitches. He's pretty close to dying of blue balls here, but he stays quiet because he thinks there's something else that Shane has to say.
"I don't want this to be- I don't want it to be too much for you, and then you freak out, or maybe it wasn't what you thought it was going to be, or, I don't know, whatever," Shane admits.
Brendon rolls in, curving his body toward Shane's. "I want to do this because your fingers felt good," he says. "And because I want to fuck, and because I want to fuck with you, and because I meant what I said, okay? I'm not going to take it back."
Brendon gets momentarily distracted by Shane's thumb.
"So, are you saying this because you actually don't want to fuck, or because you're trying to be nice about it?" Brendon asks.
Shane grins. "I'm just trying to be nice," he says, rolling his hips forward and grinding his erection against Brendon's hip.
"That's what I thought," Brendon says. "I'm going to go get condoms from my room."
He kisses Shane quickly, then climbs off the bed and walks over to his room, his boner bobbing in front of him the whole time.
He grabs the whole box and a tube of real lube as well, since apparently Shane doesn't have that either, and then he walks back into Shane's room and flops down on top of Shane, dropping the condoms and lube on the bed beside them.
They kiss for a while, rubbing together, because Shane's naked and Brendon's naked and all the skin feels good, and then Shane rolls Brendon onto his back and slicks up his fingers with lube and starts fucking him open. It doesn't feel the same as it did before; it feels like Shane's stretching him, and it kind of hurts and it kind of makes Brendon's dick even harder.
Shane moves his fingers in and out and yes, okay, yes, Brendon wants this.
"Any time now," he grits out.
Shane doesn't say anything this time. Just nods quickly and fumbles with the box of condoms, tearing the wrapper with his teeth and rolling on the rubber with one smooth stroke. He drips more lube onto his cock, even though the condoms are already lubricated, and then he says, "Roll over," in this voice that makes Brendon's gut clench.
He rolls over, pushing himself onto his hands and knees, and Shane grabs his ass and holds him still and pushes his dick inside. It really, really fucking hurts, so Brendon bends forward, resting his weight on one elbow, and reaches for his dick with his other hand, trying to distract himself.
It really fucking hurts, but Shane doesn't move, he just pushes inside and holds still and Brendon jerks himself off. Touching his dick helps, even though Shane's dick up his ass feels fucking huge and hurts like a motherfucker.
It gets a little easier, the longer they wait.
Shane rocks forward, just a little, just enough to bring the flare back. Brendon shudders, and pushes back, and then Shane's fucking him and he's actually moving, and Brendon can hear the sound of their skin slapping together. His arm starts to tremble.
Shane fucks him, and Brendon's getting fucked, and he's totally going to come. He's going to come from being fucked, and his hand on his dick is just to make sure he gets there, but he's going to come from Shane fucking him, and Shane works into this fast rhythm and he just keeps going and Brendon comes. He comes hard, and he comes really fucking fast, but whatever, Shane blew him for like ten hours beforehand. Brendon's only human.
Shane's hands tighten on Brendon's hips, which actually feels good, especially when Shane moves his hand to press onto Brendon's lower back.
There's something about being fucked that extends his orgasm, even though it's intense and just on this side of too much. Shane keeps fucking Brendon and Brendon pants into the pillow and tries to keep holding himself up. His thighs burn from staying on his knees like this, and his ass is starting to feel raw, but it's okay because Shane comes pretty quickly afterwards, and it's really fucking hot to feel the way Shane's hips lose the rhythm and just push in deep as he jerks through orgasm.
Shane slumps against Brendon's back, and then he pulls away slowly, which still makes a gross squelching noise, and also reminds Brendon of the way his ass is throbbing.
They sort their limbs out and lie down on the bed, side to side. Brendon's body feels achy, but in a completely satisfied kind of way. Shane rolls over and spoons up behind Brendon, and even though it makes their sweaty skin stick together, it's nice.
"You okay?" Shane mumbles in Brendon's ear.
Brendon nods, arching back so that their bodies line up even better. He thinks that he might fall asleep, just doze off for a little while, when the silence is broken by Dylan, who starts scratching at the door and whining.
"Go feed her," Brendon says, kicking at Shane's calf.
"You feed her," Shane says.
"I need to rest my ass," Brendon says, kicking at Shane again. "You have to go."
"Fine," Shane says, pushing out of bed. "But just this time. You don't get to keep using that one."
"We'll see," Brendon yells to Shane's back as Shane walks out of the room. "We shall see."
"So does that mean that if I bottom next time you'll do the dishes?" Shane shouts back.
"I dunno," Brendon answers. "How about we try that and find out?"
Brendon stretches out in the bed. His ass is now itchy, which is kind of fucked up and totally, totally annoying. He wiggles his toes, then pushes himself up and gets out of bed.
He walks, naked, over to the kitchen, where Shane, also naked, is crouched over, pouring dog food into the bowl.
Brendon waits until Shane is standing, then comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Shane's waist.
"I'm going to have a shower," he says, pushing up on his toes so that he can rest his chin on Shane's shoulder. "You are invited."
Shane leans back against him, and covers Brendon's hands with his own.
"Okay," he says. "But we're not fucking in the shower."
"Of course we're not fucking in the shower," Brendon says. "Until we find some lube that doesn't wash away in the water."
They walk to the bathroom, and Shane turns on the shower. As they wait for the water to heat up, they stand side-by-side in front of the mirror and brush their teeth, and when they kiss Shane's tongue tastes sweet and minty.
"You want to take Dylan to the park after?" Brendon asks, following Shane into the shower.
"We could do that," Shane says. "Or we could go back to bed." He ducks his head under the shower stream, then steps aside so that Brendon can do the same.
"Or we could go back to bed," Brendon agrees, and runs his hands down Shane's wet back.
Shane grins, and backs Brendon up against the shower wall.
--
*
--
"Is that a wrap?" Jon asks.
"Mhh, yeah, I guess so," Shane says.
Brendon looks up from where he's sitting at the piano and sees Shane pointing the camera at him. Shane switches it off, then slowly lowers it.
"You guys know that you haven't actually recorded a song today, right?" Shane asks.
"Yes, but did it look like we were pretending to record a single?" Jon asks.
Shane looks at Brendon and scrunches his eyebrows together. Brendon just shrugs one shoulder and grins.
"Do you have time to come back again this week?" Spencer asks.
Shane looks up for a moment then says, "Yeah, sure. On Thursday?"
"We'll definitely have something ready to finish off on Thursday," Ryan says. "It'll be good."
"In the meantime, we should go and celebrate," Jon says.
"What're we celebrating?" Ryan asks. They stand side-by-side and put their instruments in the cases.
"Oh, what, we need a reason now?" Jon says.
--
It's a little early in the evening, so the club isn't especially crowded. Ryan walks them over to a booth and Shane slides in and then Brendon slides in beside him. Since Brendon's sitting on the edge, he orders a couple of pitchers and a round of shots for the table.
"Rye?" Jon asks, giving Brendon a strange look.
"I thought we should try something different," Brendon says, shrugging. "Hey, so what did you think of the new songs?" Brendon asks Shane.
"Fucking awesome, dude," Shane says.
"Yeah? You think so?"
"For sure. Little less cannibalism content than I was expecting," Shane says.
Brendon shoves at Shane with his shoulder, says, "Hey now," and then stays where he is, pressed up right beside Shane.
--
They've finished both the pitchers of beer, and they're trying to decide if they should order another round.
"We've got to record again tomorrow," Spencer says.
"But we're celebrating," Jon says.
"He does have a point," says Ryan.
"You want to get another?" Brendon asks Shane.
Shane shrugs. "You?"
"I think we should smoke up when we get home," Brendon says.
"Party at Brendon'n'Shane's house," Ryan says.
"Umm, yeah, sure, okay," Brendon says. "You'll have to leave pretty early though, because, um, because we need to get an early night, so. Just for a quick smoke."
Brendon feels something touching his elbow and turns around to see a chick with long, bright red hair standing beside their table. She's got one hand resting on the booth beside Brendon's head, which is kind of clever because it allows her to bend over and get her cleavage right in Brendon's face.
"... Hi," Brendon says, craning his neck to try and see her face.
"Hey," she says. "I was just sitting over there," she gestures toward the bar with her chin, "and I was wondering if you wanted to buy me a drink."
"We're actually going to be taking off pretty soon," he says, turning his body so that he's facing the group and wiggling into the booth more. "Sorry."
"If you change your mind," she says, trailing off, and then walks away.
"I think we're going to order another round," Ryan says. "Me and Jon are definitely splitting one, anyway."
"So, you'd have time if you wanted to-" Jon wiggles his eyebrows and then shoves his tongue into his cheek, making a blowjob face.
"Thanks for that," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "But I'm good."
Brendon rotates his body again, resting his elbow on the edge of the booth by his head so that he's facing Shane, with his back to the rest of the club.
He asks, "Hey, so, do you think you got enough to cut together a music video? Like one of those bonus content ones you did the last time?"
Shane's eyes are all crinkly around the corners and he says, "I think we'll be able to work something out."
+ Coda.