Happy Thoughts - 2 of 2
For an explanation of where all this came from, see the notes on the first of my posts from tonight/this morning (eeek, it's getting late!!).
Thanks as always to tigs for moral support, proofing and going, "AWWW! BOYS!" along with me on these ;)
Any remaining spelling and or grammar issues are my own ;)
The One With the Plague
In the fall, Brendon gets some kind of, “Plague. Seriously, I’m dying,” he tells Jon who calls him while he’s standing in the aisle at CVS trying to find something that will allow him to be selectively unconscious and also clear out his sinuses. He’s painfully aware that all of his m’s sound like b’s and he can’t breathe through his nose at all. It’s red-raw from the tissues he’s gone through already today.
“You sound like death,” Jon says helpfully.
Brendon pulls the phone away from his head, scowls at it a little bit and then says, “I hate you,” with very little conviction after returning it to his ear. He holds up a box and squints at the writing. “None of these boxes are for people who are dying,” he tells Jon seriously. “I love my job? But they’re like little bacteria breeding grounds. There’s no hope - you’ve been a great friend, Jon Walker. I love you.”
Jon laughs in his ear, then says, “Cass says you should man up and get the green Nyquil, drink some tea and take a bottle of water with you to bed. I think you should do a shot of whisky, take a nap and suck it up.”
“Cassie’s my favorite, and you are no help. I’m not 21 anymore, dude,” Brendon tells Jon, scowling as he picks up a bottle of Nyquil, a package of Dayquil capsules, the largest box of tissues he can find and a gigantic bag of cherry cough drops. He’s aware that there’s an edge of a whine to his voice, but he can’t seem to help it. “I’m hanging up now - I’ll call you if I pull through.”
“Alright, drama queen. Say hi to Cash for us - I’ll call you next week if I don’t hear from you sooner.”
“Sounds good,” Brendon says, and hears Jon flip his phone shut. Brendon dumps his booty on the counter and attempts to smile at the girl at the register.
“Cold?” she asks as she starts scanning his items.
“Plague,” Brendon says, with air of fatalism to his voice.
“I hear it’s going around,” she says agreeably. “$14.96.”
Brendon swipes his card, takes the bag and trudges out to his car.
By the time he pulls into the driveway he’s feeling like his prediction of death has a real chance of coming true. His teeth started to chatter near the end of the block, and now he’s wondering if he’s got more than just a cold.
He stumbles through the front door and into the kitchen, letting the dog out while he checks the answering machine and puts on a kettle of water to boil. He changes into a pair of pj pants and one of Cash’s old Springfield U long sleeve tees before he lets the dog in, takes a shot of Nyquil, gathers up his tea, tissues and the bag of cough drops and drags himself into the living room. He curls up on their couch (which everyone says is the most comfortable couch in the history of ever) pulls the throw off the back and over his shoulders and turns on the game show network for mindless viewing.
He manages to drink the entire mug of tea, but he can feel his eyes drifting shut so he puts the mug on the coffee table and burrows down, teeth still chattering. He doesn’t remember falling asleep.
It’s dark except for the tv and the hall light when Brendon feels a hand on his forehead.
“Hi,” Brendon murmurs.
“Hi yourself,” Cash replies. “B, why didn’t you call me, babe? I would’ve come home sooner.”
Brendon shrugs, blinking his eyes open. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re really not,” Cash says, smiling at him. “You’ve got a fever and your nose is all red.” He taps a finger on the tip of Brendon’s nose, strokes the damp hair back off his forehead, bends to brush a kiss along his temple. “Brave little toaster,” he says affectionately. “Here, sit up and sip this,” he says, handing Brendon a bottle of Vitamin Water. “I’ll be right back.”
Cash disappears into the kitchen, and Brendon blinks at the extra light that filters into the room when Cash starts puttering around in the cabinets. Brendon hears the microwave beep, and a few more cabinets open and close, and then Cash is back and he’s holding another mug.
“Here, cup o’ noodles,” he says, passing it over to Brendon carefully. “Sip. What else can I get you?”
Brendon shrugs again, feeling pathetic and a little bit crabby. “Nothing.”
Cash smoothes Brendon’s hair back from his face again, then ducks to give him another quick kiss on the top of his head.
“I’m gonna change - sip that, okay?”
“K,” Brendon mutters, burrowing back down into the cushions. He can only really get about half of the broth a few of the noodles down before he feels himself starting to fall asleep again. He jostles awake a bit when Cash comes back and eases the mug from his hands and then slides onto the couch next to him, tugging Brendon so he’s laying with his head in his lap. Brendon wiggles around to get comfortable and then immediately falls back to sleep.
He wakes again to Cash shaking his shoulder gently.
“B? C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
Brendon latches onto the hand Cash offers to him, lets Cash haul him up off the couch and watches with detached awareness as he gathers up Brendon’s tissue box and leads Brendon towards their room. Brendon really has the best boyfriend ever. “I have the best boyfriend ever,” Brendon tells Cash’s back as they climb the stairs. He hears Cash chuckle, but they don’t stop walking until they’re standing in the bathroom. Cash hands Brendon his toothbrush, all ready to go and says, “Brush,” before walking from the room.
Brendon does as he’s told, wincing a little at how totally pathetic his reflection looks. He rinses his mouth, splashes some water on his face and tries not to pout when his teeth start to chatter again.
Cash comes back, and he’s holding Brendon’s cell phone out to him. “You’re calling off tomorrow, it’s ringing.”
Brendon juggles the phone to his ear and hears the assistant principal answer. “Hello?”
“Ellie? Um, hi, it’s Brendon Urie-“
“Brendon! You sound awful!” Why is it that people always feel like they need to point that out? Brendon makes a mental note not to say that to the next person that he talks to who has a cold. “It’s going around, isn’t it?”
“I guess so,” Brendon says. Cash has stepped up to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. Brendon tips his head forward and lets his forehead rest on Cash’s collarbone. He can feel Cash rubbing a soothing hand up and down his spine. “I’m not gonna be in tomorrow, I don’t think. Do you think you can -“
“Brendon. Don’t even worry. You should stay home and let that boy of yours take care of you,” she says, and Brendon can feel a tiny smile fighting it’s way onto his face.
“Thanks, Ellie. There’s sub folders in the top drawer of my desk. There’s a few days worth per grade. Tell whoever they can call me if they have any questions.”
“We’ll take care of it - you just get better now, you hear me?”
Brendon thanks her again and they hang up. He lets Cash take the cell phone from his hand, hears him put it down on the counter next to them. Brendon wraps his arm around Cash’s back, fisting his t-shirt in his hand loosely.
“Cash?”
“Hmm?” Cash murmurs back. He feels so solid and reassuring - and yes, Brendon knows that he’s a little feverish, but his boyfriend really is the greatest thing ever and Brendon seriously hopes he knows that.
“I don’t feel good,” Brendon says, and yeah, there it is - he’s whining now.
Cash, bless him, doesn’t laugh. He gives Brendon a tiny squeeze and says, “Yeah, I know. But I bet you’ll feel better after some rest. C’mon. Bed time, kiddo.”
Brendon lets Cash tuck him in, and smiles faintly when Cash hands him the Nyquil shot glass and watches while he swallows it down. Cash takes the little plastic cup back, and in exchange hands Brendon a few tissues, then turns off all the lights except for the little lamp on his side of the bed. Brendon watches through hooded eyes as Cash putters around the room putting dirty clothes in the dirty laundry basket, adding his own slacks and button up to the pile. He pads into the bathroom and Brendon lets his eyes drift shut.
Brendon wakes up briefly when Cash slides into the bed and cracks open a book, and he takes the moments of lucidity to burrow into Cash’s side, relaxing the rest of the way when Cash settles an arm around his shoulders and tugs him a little bit closer.
As he’s falling asleep Brendon feels Cash brush another kiss across the top of his head.
Thanks as always to tigs for moral support, proofing and going, "AWWW! BOYS!" along with me on these ;)
Any remaining spelling and or grammar issues are my own ;)
The One With the Plague
In the fall, Brendon gets some kind of, “Plague. Seriously, I’m dying,” he tells Jon who calls him while he’s standing in the aisle at CVS trying to find something that will allow him to be selectively unconscious and also clear out his sinuses. He’s painfully aware that all of his m’s sound like b’s and he can’t breathe through his nose at all. It’s red-raw from the tissues he’s gone through already today.
“You sound like death,” Jon says helpfully.
Brendon pulls the phone away from his head, scowls at it a little bit and then says, “I hate you,” with very little conviction after returning it to his ear. He holds up a box and squints at the writing. “None of these boxes are for people who are dying,” he tells Jon seriously. “I love my job? But they’re like little bacteria breeding grounds. There’s no hope - you’ve been a great friend, Jon Walker. I love you.”
Jon laughs in his ear, then says, “Cass says you should man up and get the green Nyquil, drink some tea and take a bottle of water with you to bed. I think you should do a shot of whisky, take a nap and suck it up.”
“Cassie’s my favorite, and you are no help. I’m not 21 anymore, dude,” Brendon tells Jon, scowling as he picks up a bottle of Nyquil, a package of Dayquil capsules, the largest box of tissues he can find and a gigantic bag of cherry cough drops. He’s aware that there’s an edge of a whine to his voice, but he can’t seem to help it. “I’m hanging up now - I’ll call you if I pull through.”
“Alright, drama queen. Say hi to Cash for us - I’ll call you next week if I don’t hear from you sooner.”
“Sounds good,” Brendon says, and hears Jon flip his phone shut. Brendon dumps his booty on the counter and attempts to smile at the girl at the register.
“Cold?” she asks as she starts scanning his items.
“Plague,” Brendon says, with air of fatalism to his voice.
“I hear it’s going around,” she says agreeably. “$14.96.”
Brendon swipes his card, takes the bag and trudges out to his car.
By the time he pulls into the driveway he’s feeling like his prediction of death has a real chance of coming true. His teeth started to chatter near the end of the block, and now he’s wondering if he’s got more than just a cold.
He stumbles through the front door and into the kitchen, letting the dog out while he checks the answering machine and puts on a kettle of water to boil. He changes into a pair of pj pants and one of Cash’s old Springfield U long sleeve tees before he lets the dog in, takes a shot of Nyquil, gathers up his tea, tissues and the bag of cough drops and drags himself into the living room. He curls up on their couch (which everyone says is the most comfortable couch in the history of ever) pulls the throw off the back and over his shoulders and turns on the game show network for mindless viewing.
He manages to drink the entire mug of tea, but he can feel his eyes drifting shut so he puts the mug on the coffee table and burrows down, teeth still chattering. He doesn’t remember falling asleep.
It’s dark except for the tv and the hall light when Brendon feels a hand on his forehead.
“Hi,” Brendon murmurs.
“Hi yourself,” Cash replies. “B, why didn’t you call me, babe? I would’ve come home sooner.”
Brendon shrugs, blinking his eyes open. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re really not,” Cash says, smiling at him. “You’ve got a fever and your nose is all red.” He taps a finger on the tip of Brendon’s nose, strokes the damp hair back off his forehead, bends to brush a kiss along his temple. “Brave little toaster,” he says affectionately. “Here, sit up and sip this,” he says, handing Brendon a bottle of Vitamin Water. “I’ll be right back.”
Cash disappears into the kitchen, and Brendon blinks at the extra light that filters into the room when Cash starts puttering around in the cabinets. Brendon hears the microwave beep, and a few more cabinets open and close, and then Cash is back and he’s holding another mug.
“Here, cup o’ noodles,” he says, passing it over to Brendon carefully. “Sip. What else can I get you?”
Brendon shrugs again, feeling pathetic and a little bit crabby. “Nothing.”
Cash smoothes Brendon’s hair back from his face again, then ducks to give him another quick kiss on the top of his head.
“I’m gonna change - sip that, okay?”
“K,” Brendon mutters, burrowing back down into the cushions. He can only really get about half of the broth a few of the noodles down before he feels himself starting to fall asleep again. He jostles awake a bit when Cash comes back and eases the mug from his hands and then slides onto the couch next to him, tugging Brendon so he’s laying with his head in his lap. Brendon wiggles around to get comfortable and then immediately falls back to sleep.
He wakes again to Cash shaking his shoulder gently.
“B? C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
Brendon latches onto the hand Cash offers to him, lets Cash haul him up off the couch and watches with detached awareness as he gathers up Brendon’s tissue box and leads Brendon towards their room. Brendon really has the best boyfriend ever. “I have the best boyfriend ever,” Brendon tells Cash’s back as they climb the stairs. He hears Cash chuckle, but they don’t stop walking until they’re standing in the bathroom. Cash hands Brendon his toothbrush, all ready to go and says, “Brush,” before walking from the room.
Brendon does as he’s told, wincing a little at how totally pathetic his reflection looks. He rinses his mouth, splashes some water on his face and tries not to pout when his teeth start to chatter again.
Cash comes back, and he’s holding Brendon’s cell phone out to him. “You’re calling off tomorrow, it’s ringing.”
Brendon juggles the phone to his ear and hears the assistant principal answer. “Hello?”
“Ellie? Um, hi, it’s Brendon Urie-“
“Brendon! You sound awful!” Why is it that people always feel like they need to point that out? Brendon makes a mental note not to say that to the next person that he talks to who has a cold. “It’s going around, isn’t it?”
“I guess so,” Brendon says. Cash has stepped up to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. Brendon tips his head forward and lets his forehead rest on Cash’s collarbone. He can feel Cash rubbing a soothing hand up and down his spine. “I’m not gonna be in tomorrow, I don’t think. Do you think you can -“
“Brendon. Don’t even worry. You should stay home and let that boy of yours take care of you,” she says, and Brendon can feel a tiny smile fighting it’s way onto his face.
“Thanks, Ellie. There’s sub folders in the top drawer of my desk. There’s a few days worth per grade. Tell whoever they can call me if they have any questions.”
“We’ll take care of it - you just get better now, you hear me?”
Brendon thanks her again and they hang up. He lets Cash take the cell phone from his hand, hears him put it down on the counter next to them. Brendon wraps his arm around Cash’s back, fisting his t-shirt in his hand loosely.
“Cash?”
“Hmm?” Cash murmurs back. He feels so solid and reassuring - and yes, Brendon knows that he’s a little feverish, but his boyfriend really is the greatest thing ever and Brendon seriously hopes he knows that.
“I don’t feel good,” Brendon says, and yeah, there it is - he’s whining now.
Cash, bless him, doesn’t laugh. He gives Brendon a tiny squeeze and says, “Yeah, I know. But I bet you’ll feel better after some rest. C’mon. Bed time, kiddo.”
Brendon lets Cash tuck him in, and smiles faintly when Cash hands him the Nyquil shot glass and watches while he swallows it down. Cash takes the little plastic cup back, and in exchange hands Brendon a few tissues, then turns off all the lights except for the little lamp on his side of the bed. Brendon watches through hooded eyes as Cash putters around the room putting dirty clothes in the dirty laundry basket, adding his own slacks and button up to the pile. He pads into the bathroom and Brendon lets his eyes drift shut.
Brendon wakes up briefly when Cash slides into the bed and cracks open a book, and he takes the moments of lucidity to burrow into Cash’s side, relaxing the rest of the way when Cash settles an arm around his shoulders and tugs him a little bit closer.
As he’s falling asleep Brendon feels Cash brush another kiss across the top of his head.