FIC: Flowers and Green Grass So Tall
Previously posted to anon_lovefest. Prompt of: Brendon/girl!Ryan; Ryan is in a folk-rock band, and Brendon is in a Journey cover band. They end up playing the same small festival and spend the whole day dancing around each other, flirting unabashedly, unaware they're both in a band.
Warnings for genderswap. My first girl anyone EVER. Title is from Van Morrison's Warm Love. ~2,200 words. More notes at the bottom.
Flowers and Green Grass So Tall
Pete checks his eyeliner again in the rearview mirror of their van, before shutting off the engine. "I'm too fucking scene to be in a folk-band. Why I am here with you fools again?"
"I don't know," Patrick grumbles. "Please. Tell us."
"For Ryan's pretty face, of course." Pete turns around and makes kissy faces.
Ryan pauses her iPod and scowls. Says, "Shut up, Pete, you're adopted," and, "You can stay with the band as long as you want, you're not getting in my pants."
"I seem to recall that one drunken time," Pete starts to muse, but Spencer cuts him off with, "La la laaaa."
"And," Pete inserts, "who wouldn't want to be in a band called Failing Woody? I mean, honestly." He grins and hops out of their van.
Patrick, Ryan and Spencer follow. Spencer reaches into his backpack and pulls out fucking maps of the college campus they're playing at - which is, by the way, across from a fucking cornfield - and distributes them. He says, "We're playing at the place highlighted in pink. The places in yellow are food joints, make sure you eat something - Pete. Momentum Leaks and Do Re Mi are playing at the place in green, and playing before us is Avenue Eight." He narrows his eyes at Ryan. "Don't get lost."
Ryan tucks hers into her canvas messenger bag and just nods at Spencer.
*
"I'm sick of your moping, just FYI," Ian says as he looms over Brendon. Brendon's already tucked himself into the corner of the couch in the dressing room that's being shared between them and Do Re Mi. He wishes it would swallow him up and send him home to Bogart, but it doesn't. He's still here in New York making sad eyes at Ian.
"I miss Bogart," Brendon whines. It's his first time being away from his puppy, his baby; leave him alone, okay.
"I know," Ian says, practically ignoring him. Brendon knows he's only said it three thousand times, but he misses Bogart. "Dallon's sick of it too. Right, Weekes?"
"Yes, of course, Ian, darling," Dallon replies sardonically, waving his hand. He's halfway across the room, arguing with Nate about how ridiculous his beard is getting.
"Dude, how are you going to even try to sing Don't Stop Believin' if you're like this?" Ian asks. His hair seems scarier today. Brendon sinks back further into the couch. Ian says, "The couch is not going to eat you, dude, I'm sorry."
"Your hair is," Brendon counters quietly. He whimpers.
"Jesus," Ian mutters. He tugs Brendon up by the shoulder and shoves him toward the door. "Go meet a girl or a guy or both or something. Just go get laid, for the sake of everyone's sanities."
Brendon ogles Nate's beard as he goes. It's really getting kind of fantastic. Nate sees him staring and says, "Don't look at me like that," and then, he shouts in Dallon's face, "I'll shave when I'm dead!" and stomps away. Dallon and Brendon nod at each other and smile.
*
Brendon wanders around the campus for a while and then he hears a yapping that he swears could be Bogart. He turns his head to look, but like a dumbass, keeps walking.
He collides with someone and sends that someone reeling to the ground. It's a girl; thus making Brendon feel entirely shitty. He says, "Oh, God," and, "I'm sorry," and stoops down to help her up. She grips his bicep as he pulls her back up. She pushes her hair off her shoulders, but her bangs still hang in her eyes. "Gee, thanks," she says wryly.
"Uh…no problem?" Brendon tries, and sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. "Are you all right?"
She picks her bag up off the ground and hangs it from her shoulder. "I'm sure I'll live."
Brendon notices a color-coated map of the campus on the ground and picks it up and hands it to her too. "I-are you going to go watch Do Re Mi right now?"
She frowns. "A tribute bands aren't exactly my type of thing. Especially not 'the Jackson 5' ones."
Brendon racks his brain to try and remember the other bands playing. There was one that he really wanted to see - apparently their lead singer is a musical genius and they've got fucking a girl on banjo and the girl and the bassist have fight-to-the-death matches over who's lyrics they use in the songs - but he can't remember the name. He does remember Avenue Eight is playing and that's Jon Walker, Joe Trohman and Bill Beckett's newest three-man-band acoustic project - under the names JWalk, FroJoe and Billvy -, so it can't be terrible. "Avenue Eight?" Brendon asks.
"Sure," she says. "I've heard JWalk is the only real boy you'll meet on the circuit."
"Trufax." Brendon laughs. "I'm Brendon, by the way."
"That's nice," she says icily, "I only tell worthwhile people my name and that's unfortunate for you," and starts walking.
*
Jon, Joe and Bill's band is about as ridiculous as Brendon expected. They have odes to donuts and songs about kickball and similes like, as soft as Joe's fro after a blow-dry.
For an acoustic set, it's really fucking loud in this joint, so Brendon leans over and shouts in the girl's ear, "This is fucking ridiculous."
She nods and then another guy - who very well could be a mountain man, he's seriously rocking his beard - comes up behind her and nods at Brendon before tugging her away.
She calls over her shoulder, "I'll be, uh, right back."
*
"I saw that," Spencer says with a smirk.
"What?" Ryan says innocently, putting her hands on her hips.
"You shiver when he talked in your ear."
"No you didn't," Ryan snaps, "because it didn't happen."
"Lies," Spencer declares. "You're just in denial."
"No," Ryan sighs. "He's way too short and fucking clumsy. I met him when he knocked me over, thanks."
"You just have ridiculous standards and can't get over the fact that he's totally perfect," Spencer says smugly. He crosses his arms over his chest like he's fucking proud of himself or something. "Keltie would agree."
"That's because you and Keltie are the worst friends ever," Ryan mutters.
"And that's why we both have the title of 'best,'" Spencer agrees sagely.
"I hate you," Ryan says prissily and marches away. She hears Spencer laughing because he's a douche. Ryan does not have impossible standards - men are just disgusting, ridiculous pigs that aren't good enough for Ryan. Is it so bad that Ryan wants someone sweet, caring, gorgeous and talented? No, no it's not. Ryan's fucking fabulous and deserves the best, thank you. If Ryan were down for settling, she'd take fucking Pete Wentz or some other scene boy.
As Ryan approaches Brendon, he's kind of wiggling his body a little bit to the beat in a way that's ridiculously dorky and kind of endearing. The wiggling fades with a shake of his ass - which Ryan takes a moment to appreciate. Fucking shit.
When Ryan is back at Brendon's side, he says, "Hey you!" and snakes his arm around her waist. Ryan should tries to shy away, but Brendon's arm feels warm and strong and there to just be there, not there with any intent, and suddenly she stops thinking about how he's a little bit shorter than her and how he fucking knocked her to the ground earlier, and just focuses on this moment.
He leans into her ear again and shouts, just as hot and breathy as last time, "You know what I like best about you?"
The same shiver runs down Ryan's spine and she suddenly feels very cold despite the humid air in the room. "What," she manages to say back.
"Everything." Brendon leans in enough so that he whispers and Ryan can still hear him. His lips brush Ryan earlobe as the form the words. He abruptly twists Ryan to face him, keeping his one hand firm on her hip and setting the other on the side of her face. "Except this," he says, and pushes Ryan's bangs off to the side. "See now?" He beams. "Your eyes are brown. I didn't know that, and now I do." He sounds genuinely happy about knowing this and something pangs in Ryan.
Ryan breathes in deeply and wills her voice not to get piercing from being nervous. She's biting the bullet and taking the leap, because unless she's reading this terribly, terribly wrong, Brendon totally wants her. Like he should. "You know what I don't know about you?"
One corner of Brendon's mouth quirks up and he raises an eyebrow in a way that Ryan shouldn't find cute - or undeniably hot - but she does. "What?" he asks.
"I don't know how you taste," and before it's even left Ryan's lips, Brendon's are pressed against Ryan's. They're as warm and sure as Brendon's arms feel and Brendon's mouth was apparently made for making magic; Ryan can't believe she hadn't noticed it earlier.
Brendon pulls back when his phone starts vibrating. His face falls as he reads it, so Ryan plucks it out of his hands surely and types in her number. She saves it as That Girl and hands it back to him. He says, "Listen, I've-"
"Gotta go," Ryan interrupts, fluttering her fingers around. "Every boy does."
"I'm not-"
"Like every boy. I know, I know, I know. They definitely don't all kiss like that."
Brendon flushes. "I've really gotta go though." He swipes Ryan's bangs out of her face again. "You should pin these back more often. You've got pretty eyes."
Ryan had had her share of scene queen days. She doesn't like to think about those days when her and Pete tried to out do each other with even more and more ridiculous, flamboyant eye make-up, so now she doesn't wear any and just tries to hide her features. "Okay," she whispers, but Brendon's already gone.
Later when Ryan's getting ready for the show, she collects four of Spencer ties and they each wear one wrapped around their heads. It's just Ryan trying to dress the band, change up their look, really - it has absolutely nothing to do with a boy who'll never call, who she'll never see again.
They still have an hour to kill 'til show time and Pete comes in and says, "So we're going to go kick it with the boys from Momentum Leaks, the Journey cover band? Lunchbox wants to see them play since they're on at the same time as us. Apparently they're pretty good."
"Nothing about Journey'll ever be good," Ryan says.
"Shut up, Ross, you're adopted," Pete leers.
"Gee, where've I heard that before."
*
Ryan hears a familiar laugh as they come up to the dressing room door. She stops dead and Spencer crashes into her back. "Dude, the fuck."
Ryan says, "I'm not going in there."
Spencer peers around Ryan and inside and says, "Oh, ha, yes you are."
"Hate," Ryan says. "Hate you."
*
"Darling dearest!" Brendon exclaims with wide arms when Ryan walks into the room. "You and your beautiful eyes have returned to me!"
"So," Spencer leans over and whispers, "in a completely heterosexual way, I can say you've got a tick in the 'gorgeous' box. And, beautiful eyes? Sweet's gotta be ticked too."
"Shut the fuck up," Ryan says.
"And I bet he helped you up after being a spaz and knocking you over," Spencer adds wickedly. "Caring, check. Now, for the talent." He says, "Hey, will you guys play something for us?"
"We were just about to do our soundcheck," a guy with the craziest hair ever says. "You can come hang."
They all amble out toward the stage and Brendon immediately sits down at the keyboard with a microphone stand. Crazy hair grabs a guitar, the guy with a beard beastlier than Spencer's is behind the drums and the last guy picks up a kickass bright red bass. Spencer raises his eyebrows and oh-so-unsubtly nudges Ryan and motions toward Brendon.
Crazy hair says, "Who's Crying Now?" and Brendon nods and starts with the piano intro, and Ryan has to admit - he plays flawlessly, even if Journey sucks hardcore ass.
Spencer leans over and whispers, "Talent," just as Brendon starts singing. Ryan's jaw drops probably right about to the floor, and Spencer rubs it in by saying, "Triple check."
After soundcheck - and Ryan eating her words and high standards - Brendon bounces over to them and says, "So. So you. Are you the kickass banjo girl in Failing Woody?"
"Yeah," Ryan says.
"Cool," Brendon says. "I run really fast."
"What?"
"Well, like," Brendon says, "if you ever decide I'm not good enough, I can run really fast to. And surfboard. And I miss my puppy, Bogart. My best friend's name is Shane and he makes really good movies - I try to act in them sometimes. I play a lot of instruments too and-"
"Brendon," Ryan says slowly.
"Yeah?"
"Are you through?"
Brendon blinks. "Yes, I'm done rambling, Mystery Lady of My Dreams."
"You're such a dork." Ryan smiles fondly and kisses him. "My name's Ryan."
A/N: Let's see here. So if you didn't figure it out: Failing Woody consisted of Ryan, Spencer, Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump; Momentum Leaks was Brendon, Ian Crawford, Dallon Weekes, and Nate Navarro; Avenue Eight was Joe Trohman, Jon, and Bill Beckett (and though never specified, in my head, Do Re Mi consists of the remaining members of the Cab.)
I'm pretty sure that I'm hopelessly in love with and way too invested into this 'verse. I want to write /so much/ about it, but I'm SO busy. Still, you can expect more from this 'verse, definitely. :) Oh! And the college mentioned? Totally exists. SUNY Canton is really across from a cornfield.
Warnings for genderswap. My first girl anyone EVER. Title is from Van Morrison's Warm Love. ~2,200 words. More notes at the bottom.
Flowers and Green Grass So Tall
Pete checks his eyeliner again in the rearview mirror of their van, before shutting off the engine. "I'm too fucking scene to be in a folk-band. Why I am here with you fools again?"
"I don't know," Patrick grumbles. "Please. Tell us."
"For Ryan's pretty face, of course." Pete turns around and makes kissy faces.
Ryan pauses her iPod and scowls. Says, "Shut up, Pete, you're adopted," and, "You can stay with the band as long as you want, you're not getting in my pants."
"I seem to recall that one drunken time," Pete starts to muse, but Spencer cuts him off with, "La la laaaa."
"And," Pete inserts, "who wouldn't want to be in a band called Failing Woody? I mean, honestly." He grins and hops out of their van.
Patrick, Ryan and Spencer follow. Spencer reaches into his backpack and pulls out fucking maps of the college campus they're playing at - which is, by the way, across from a fucking cornfield - and distributes them. He says, "We're playing at the place highlighted in pink. The places in yellow are food joints, make sure you eat something - Pete. Momentum Leaks and Do Re Mi are playing at the place in green, and playing before us is Avenue Eight." He narrows his eyes at Ryan. "Don't get lost."
Ryan tucks hers into her canvas messenger bag and just nods at Spencer.
*
"I'm sick of your moping, just FYI," Ian says as he looms over Brendon. Brendon's already tucked himself into the corner of the couch in the dressing room that's being shared between them and Do Re Mi. He wishes it would swallow him up and send him home to Bogart, but it doesn't. He's still here in New York making sad eyes at Ian.
"I miss Bogart," Brendon whines. It's his first time being away from his puppy, his baby; leave him alone, okay.
"I know," Ian says, practically ignoring him. Brendon knows he's only said it three thousand times, but he misses Bogart. "Dallon's sick of it too. Right, Weekes?"
"Yes, of course, Ian, darling," Dallon replies sardonically, waving his hand. He's halfway across the room, arguing with Nate about how ridiculous his beard is getting.
"Dude, how are you going to even try to sing Don't Stop Believin' if you're like this?" Ian asks. His hair seems scarier today. Brendon sinks back further into the couch. Ian says, "The couch is not going to eat you, dude, I'm sorry."
"Your hair is," Brendon counters quietly. He whimpers.
"Jesus," Ian mutters. He tugs Brendon up by the shoulder and shoves him toward the door. "Go meet a girl or a guy or both or something. Just go get laid, for the sake of everyone's sanities."
Brendon ogles Nate's beard as he goes. It's really getting kind of fantastic. Nate sees him staring and says, "Don't look at me like that," and then, he shouts in Dallon's face, "I'll shave when I'm dead!" and stomps away. Dallon and Brendon nod at each other and smile.
*
Brendon wanders around the campus for a while and then he hears a yapping that he swears could be Bogart. He turns his head to look, but like a dumbass, keeps walking.
He collides with someone and sends that someone reeling to the ground. It's a girl; thus making Brendon feel entirely shitty. He says, "Oh, God," and, "I'm sorry," and stoops down to help her up. She grips his bicep as he pulls her back up. She pushes her hair off her shoulders, but her bangs still hang in her eyes. "Gee, thanks," she says wryly.
"Uh…no problem?" Brendon tries, and sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. "Are you all right?"
She picks her bag up off the ground and hangs it from her shoulder. "I'm sure I'll live."
Brendon notices a color-coated map of the campus on the ground and picks it up and hands it to her too. "I-are you going to go watch Do Re Mi right now?"
She frowns. "A tribute bands aren't exactly my type of thing. Especially not 'the Jackson 5' ones."
Brendon racks his brain to try and remember the other bands playing. There was one that he really wanted to see - apparently their lead singer is a musical genius and they've got fucking a girl on banjo and the girl and the bassist have fight-to-the-death matches over who's lyrics they use in the songs - but he can't remember the name. He does remember Avenue Eight is playing and that's Jon Walker, Joe Trohman and Bill Beckett's newest three-man-band acoustic project - under the names JWalk, FroJoe and Billvy -, so it can't be terrible. "Avenue Eight?" Brendon asks.
"Sure," she says. "I've heard JWalk is the only real boy you'll meet on the circuit."
"Trufax." Brendon laughs. "I'm Brendon, by the way."
"That's nice," she says icily, "I only tell worthwhile people my name and that's unfortunate for you," and starts walking.
*
Jon, Joe and Bill's band is about as ridiculous as Brendon expected. They have odes to donuts and songs about kickball and similes like, as soft as Joe's fro after a blow-dry.
For an acoustic set, it's really fucking loud in this joint, so Brendon leans over and shouts in the girl's ear, "This is fucking ridiculous."
She nods and then another guy - who very well could be a mountain man, he's seriously rocking his beard - comes up behind her and nods at Brendon before tugging her away.
She calls over her shoulder, "I'll be, uh, right back."
*
"I saw that," Spencer says with a smirk.
"What?" Ryan says innocently, putting her hands on her hips.
"You shiver when he talked in your ear."
"No you didn't," Ryan snaps, "because it didn't happen."
"Lies," Spencer declares. "You're just in denial."
"No," Ryan sighs. "He's way too short and fucking clumsy. I met him when he knocked me over, thanks."
"You just have ridiculous standards and can't get over the fact that he's totally perfect," Spencer says smugly. He crosses his arms over his chest like he's fucking proud of himself or something. "Keltie would agree."
"That's because you and Keltie are the worst friends ever," Ryan mutters.
"And that's why we both have the title of 'best,'" Spencer agrees sagely.
"I hate you," Ryan says prissily and marches away. She hears Spencer laughing because he's a douche. Ryan does not have impossible standards - men are just disgusting, ridiculous pigs that aren't good enough for Ryan. Is it so bad that Ryan wants someone sweet, caring, gorgeous and talented? No, no it's not. Ryan's fucking fabulous and deserves the best, thank you. If Ryan were down for settling, she'd take fucking Pete Wentz or some other scene boy.
As Ryan approaches Brendon, he's kind of wiggling his body a little bit to the beat in a way that's ridiculously dorky and kind of endearing. The wiggling fades with a shake of his ass - which Ryan takes a moment to appreciate. Fucking shit.
When Ryan is back at Brendon's side, he says, "Hey you!" and snakes his arm around her waist. Ryan should tries to shy away, but Brendon's arm feels warm and strong and there to just be there, not there with any intent, and suddenly she stops thinking about how he's a little bit shorter than her and how he fucking knocked her to the ground earlier, and just focuses on this moment.
He leans into her ear again and shouts, just as hot and breathy as last time, "You know what I like best about you?"
The same shiver runs down Ryan's spine and she suddenly feels very cold despite the humid air in the room. "What," she manages to say back.
"Everything." Brendon leans in enough so that he whispers and Ryan can still hear him. His lips brush Ryan earlobe as the form the words. He abruptly twists Ryan to face him, keeping his one hand firm on her hip and setting the other on the side of her face. "Except this," he says, and pushes Ryan's bangs off to the side. "See now?" He beams. "Your eyes are brown. I didn't know that, and now I do." He sounds genuinely happy about knowing this and something pangs in Ryan.
Ryan breathes in deeply and wills her voice not to get piercing from being nervous. She's biting the bullet and taking the leap, because unless she's reading this terribly, terribly wrong, Brendon totally wants her. Like he should. "You know what I don't know about you?"
One corner of Brendon's mouth quirks up and he raises an eyebrow in a way that Ryan shouldn't find cute - or undeniably hot - but she does. "What?" he asks.
"I don't know how you taste," and before it's even left Ryan's lips, Brendon's are pressed against Ryan's. They're as warm and sure as Brendon's arms feel and Brendon's mouth was apparently made for making magic; Ryan can't believe she hadn't noticed it earlier.
Brendon pulls back when his phone starts vibrating. His face falls as he reads it, so Ryan plucks it out of his hands surely and types in her number. She saves it as That Girl and hands it back to him. He says, "Listen, I've-"
"Gotta go," Ryan interrupts, fluttering her fingers around. "Every boy does."
"I'm not-"
"Like every boy. I know, I know, I know. They definitely don't all kiss like that."
Brendon flushes. "I've really gotta go though." He swipes Ryan's bangs out of her face again. "You should pin these back more often. You've got pretty eyes."
Ryan had had her share of scene queen days. She doesn't like to think about those days when her and Pete tried to out do each other with even more and more ridiculous, flamboyant eye make-up, so now she doesn't wear any and just tries to hide her features. "Okay," she whispers, but Brendon's already gone.
Later when Ryan's getting ready for the show, she collects four of Spencer ties and they each wear one wrapped around their heads. It's just Ryan trying to dress the band, change up their look, really - it has absolutely nothing to do with a boy who'll never call, who she'll never see again.
They still have an hour to kill 'til show time and Pete comes in and says, "So we're going to go kick it with the boys from Momentum Leaks, the Journey cover band? Lunchbox wants to see them play since they're on at the same time as us. Apparently they're pretty good."
"Nothing about Journey'll ever be good," Ryan says.
"Shut up, Ross, you're adopted," Pete leers.
"Gee, where've I heard that before."
*
Ryan hears a familiar laugh as they come up to the dressing room door. She stops dead and Spencer crashes into her back. "Dude, the fuck."
Ryan says, "I'm not going in there."
Spencer peers around Ryan and inside and says, "Oh, ha, yes you are."
"Hate," Ryan says. "Hate you."
*
"Darling dearest!" Brendon exclaims with wide arms when Ryan walks into the room. "You and your beautiful eyes have returned to me!"
"So," Spencer leans over and whispers, "in a completely heterosexual way, I can say you've got a tick in the 'gorgeous' box. And, beautiful eyes? Sweet's gotta be ticked too."
"Shut the fuck up," Ryan says.
"And I bet he helped you up after being a spaz and knocking you over," Spencer adds wickedly. "Caring, check. Now, for the talent." He says, "Hey, will you guys play something for us?"
"We were just about to do our soundcheck," a guy with the craziest hair ever says. "You can come hang."
They all amble out toward the stage and Brendon immediately sits down at the keyboard with a microphone stand. Crazy hair grabs a guitar, the guy with a beard beastlier than Spencer's is behind the drums and the last guy picks up a kickass bright red bass. Spencer raises his eyebrows and oh-so-unsubtly nudges Ryan and motions toward Brendon.
Crazy hair says, "Who's Crying Now?" and Brendon nods and starts with the piano intro, and Ryan has to admit - he plays flawlessly, even if Journey sucks hardcore ass.
Spencer leans over and whispers, "Talent," just as Brendon starts singing. Ryan's jaw drops probably right about to the floor, and Spencer rubs it in by saying, "Triple check."
After soundcheck - and Ryan eating her words and high standards - Brendon bounces over to them and says, "So. So you. Are you the kickass banjo girl in Failing Woody?"
"Yeah," Ryan says.
"Cool," Brendon says. "I run really fast."
"What?"
"Well, like," Brendon says, "if you ever decide I'm not good enough, I can run really fast to. And surfboard. And I miss my puppy, Bogart. My best friend's name is Shane and he makes really good movies - I try to act in them sometimes. I play a lot of instruments too and-"
"Brendon," Ryan says slowly.
"Yeah?"
"Are you through?"
Brendon blinks. "Yes, I'm done rambling, Mystery Lady of My Dreams."
"You're such a dork." Ryan smiles fondly and kisses him. "My name's Ryan."
A/N: Let's see here. So if you didn't figure it out: Failing Woody consisted of Ryan, Spencer, Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump; Momentum Leaks was Brendon, Ian Crawford, Dallon Weekes, and Nate Navarro; Avenue Eight was Joe Trohman, Jon, and Bill Beckett (and though never specified, in my head, Do Re Mi consists of the remaining members of the Cab.)
I'm pretty sure that I'm hopelessly in love with and way too invested into this 'verse. I want to write /so much/ about it, but I'm SO busy. Still, you can expect more from this 'verse, definitely. :) Oh! And the college mentioned? Totally exists. SUNY Canton is really across from a cornfield.