for ellllllie, happy birthday dearest
Brendon/Greta, a ficlet (~500 words).
Disclaimer: this never happened as far as I know.
This is short and silly, and I really hope you'll like it hon. Alex read it over for me, but all the remaining mistakes are mine. ♥
Greta is soft and curvy and Brendon’s quite fascinated with her breasts.
“Boobs,” he says to Jon, who’s currently busy drinking his beer and watching the TV.
“I know,” he says like a man who has spent his time thinking about women and their breasts.
Brendon sighs heavily. “They just, well, they’re kinda distracting.”
Somewhere in the background, Ryan laughs.
***
“Hi!” Greta smiles when he sees Brendon, pulling him into a tight hug. She’s warm and soft against him and there’s no doubt in Brendon’s mind that he loves Greta’s hugs the most.
“Hi,” he says back, swallowing nervously. “I love your sweater,” he adds, and it’s true. It’s lavender and soft and it’s so Greta that Brendon kinda wishes he could somehow steal it and sleep with it. In a totally non-creepy way.
“Thanks.” She smiles, brushing her hair behind her shoulders. “Wanna hear our new song?” she asks, her fingers still curled around his bicep.
“Sure,” Brendon says, bouncing a bit on his heels and then he follows her into the tiny studio space.
***
“You have been listening to the Hushies’ CD again,” Spencer says.
Brendon blinks, looks left and then right before focusing on Spencer again. “No I haven’t.”
Spencer snorts. “You were humming their song.”
Brendon’s lips are too dry. “No I wasn’t.”
Spencer arches one eyebrow at him and Brendon sighs, because Spencer knows him too well.
“You know,” Spencer says sitting next to him, “you could ask her out.”
Brendon swallows and focuses very hard at staring straight in front of him. “Who?”
Spencer is silent for a very long moment and Brendon’s almost certain he’ll let it slip, but then Spencer has to go and ruin everything. “You could even sing her the song you wrote about her hair and the purple dress and the fields.”
Brendon swallows again. “But,” he says in a very small voice, “what if she says no?”
Spencer sighs. “You’ll only find out if you ask.” Then he ruffles Brendon’s hair and stands up.
Brendon remains in the back lounge for a couple more minutes before groaning in frustration and standing up.
“Jon!” he shouts hurrying along the corridor. “I need help with my plan to impress Greta!”
Jon’s lying in his bunk but that doesn’t stop Brendon from squirming in next to him.
“Don’t you mean ‘seduce’?”
Jon hums and Brendon squints at him. “Have you been smoking without me?”
Jon smiles lazily at him. “You were too busy listening to Greta’s singing and I didn’t wanna interrupt.”
Brendon huffs because he knows Jon only wanted to keep all the pot to himself, but he’ll let it slip this time since he has more important issues to talk about anyway.
“Yeah, well, talking about Greta---“
***
“Hi Bren!” Greta’s voice sounds happy and pleased and Brendon swallows nervously. “What’s up?”
Brendon takes a long breath. Here goes nothing. “Well, you see, I was wondering if you could maybe come and, you know, hang out with me.” He swallows, pulls at the hem of his t-shirt nervously. “I have this one song that I wanna play for you.”
Disclaimer: this never happened as far as I know.
This is short and silly, and I really hope you'll like it hon. Alex read it over for me, but all the remaining mistakes are mine. ♥
Greta is soft and curvy and Brendon’s quite fascinated with her breasts.
“Boobs,” he says to Jon, who’s currently busy drinking his beer and watching the TV.
“I know,” he says like a man who has spent his time thinking about women and their breasts.
Brendon sighs heavily. “They just, well, they’re kinda distracting.”
Somewhere in the background, Ryan laughs.
***
“Hi!” Greta smiles when he sees Brendon, pulling him into a tight hug. She’s warm and soft against him and there’s no doubt in Brendon’s mind that he loves Greta’s hugs the most.
“Hi,” he says back, swallowing nervously. “I love your sweater,” he adds, and it’s true. It’s lavender and soft and it’s so Greta that Brendon kinda wishes he could somehow steal it and sleep with it. In a totally non-creepy way.
“Thanks.” She smiles, brushing her hair behind her shoulders. “Wanna hear our new song?” she asks, her fingers still curled around his bicep.
“Sure,” Brendon says, bouncing a bit on his heels and then he follows her into the tiny studio space.
***
“You have been listening to the Hushies’ CD again,” Spencer says.
Brendon blinks, looks left and then right before focusing on Spencer again. “No I haven’t.”
Spencer snorts. “You were humming their song.”
Brendon’s lips are too dry. “No I wasn’t.”
Spencer arches one eyebrow at him and Brendon sighs, because Spencer knows him too well.
“You know,” Spencer says sitting next to him, “you could ask her out.”
Brendon swallows and focuses very hard at staring straight in front of him. “Who?”
Spencer is silent for a very long moment and Brendon’s almost certain he’ll let it slip, but then Spencer has to go and ruin everything. “You could even sing her the song you wrote about her hair and the purple dress and the fields.”
Brendon swallows again. “But,” he says in a very small voice, “what if she says no?”
Spencer sighs. “You’ll only find out if you ask.” Then he ruffles Brendon’s hair and stands up.
Brendon remains in the back lounge for a couple more minutes before groaning in frustration and standing up.
“Jon!” he shouts hurrying along the corridor. “I need help with my plan to impress Greta!”
Jon’s lying in his bunk but that doesn’t stop Brendon from squirming in next to him.
“Don’t you mean ‘seduce’?”
Jon hums and Brendon squints at him. “Have you been smoking without me?”
Jon smiles lazily at him. “You were too busy listening to Greta’s singing and I didn’t wanna interrupt.”
Brendon huffs because he knows Jon only wanted to keep all the pot to himself, but he’ll let it slip this time since he has more important issues to talk about anyway.
“Yeah, well, talking about Greta---“
***
“Hi Bren!” Greta’s voice sounds happy and pleased and Brendon swallows nervously. “What’s up?”
Brendon takes a long breath. Here goes nothing. “Well, you see, I was wondering if you could maybe come and, you know, hang out with me.” He swallows, pulls at the hem of his t-shirt nervously. “I have this one song that I wanna play for you.”