i find you alluring
This is. . .ridiculous.
A "drabble" for adellyna, um. I wanted to do all of those pairings, but I couldn't get Brendon in and it doesn't really make sense as is.
I FIND YOU ALLURING - Bob Bryar/William Beckett.
It was the best game William had ever conceived, and to be sure, William had conceived of many good games. But Steal-Everyone's-Phones-And-Make-Inappropriate-Calls Game was both a great time waster and a time of wasted greatness. Oh yes. William was a legend. He chuckled to himself, thinking fondly of how foolhardy his friends had been to leave their dressing rooms unattended with Sisky and Butcher on the prowl. If he was a legend, they were the myths on which the very foundations of the science was built upon.
Butcher toasted him for the compliment and shotgunned a beer while William scrolled through Ryan Ross's contacts. "Paris Hilton?" he said.
"No way, no way," said Sisky. "I want her number. Hey, let me see."
William held him back, arm across his chest. Sisky fell backwards on to the floor of their dressing room. "That would be a gross misuse of Ryan's sidekick, Adam."
"Aw, please?"
"Spencer Smith," said William, his eyes alighting on a name. "Oh, Spencer Smith."
"We just saw him," said Butcher, leaning on top of Sisky. "That's not at all an inappropriate call. I think he even likes you."
William held up a hand. "Hush, it's ringing."
"You loser, we saw him like five minutes ago," said Sisky. "You got a crush on him?"
"No, it's everyone else who's got a crush on William."
"I've got a crush on William."
"I don't but I think Chislett does."
"You're just jealous."
"Spencer Smith," breathed William into the phone, his free hand covering Sisky's mouth. "My darling. Did it hurt? Did it hurt when you fell from heaven into my arms? Tell me, my sweetheart, is the sky grey because your eyes stole its color, or does it just mourn you, oh sun king?"
"You are so creepy," said Spencer.
"You are the music in me," said William. "Sing me a song, Spencer Smith. Sing me a lullaby."
"When I hear my favorite song," sang Spencer softly, "I know that we belong."
William sighed, over-dramatic.
"You are the creeper with my best friend's phone, and mark my words, I will find you."
William raised an eyebrow. "Zac Efron would be disappointed in you, Spencer Smith."
"Zac Efron doesn't have to know."
Spencer hung up, with a friendly round of threats to hunt down William. William sighed again. "He thinks I'm not serious."
"Mm, well," said Sisky. "You quoted High School Musical at him. That is not the way to a boy's heart. Maybe a preteen girl's. Maybe even a teenage girl's. But not a boy's."
William waved a hand. "He just hasn't realised his deep and abiding love for me yet. Hand me that blackberry. Who did you get from?"
"Patrick Stump," said Butcher. "A great conquest. He was standing in the room when we took it. Never knew what hit him."
"My kindest regards," said William. "That is a admirable conquest. He has reflexes like a cobra."
"He's no match for the Butcher," said Sisky fondly.
William started looking through Patrick's contact list. "Bob Bryar. When was the last time we had a proper get-together with the fine lads in My Chemical Romance?"
"Never. Not ever. Carden keeps saying we should."
"No one listens to Carden. But I think I saw Mikey Way in New York once."
"I think one time I saw Mikey Way freaking Gabe. Or Gabe was freaking Mikey? Freaking him out, I mean."
"I think I saw Pete getting nasty with Mikey once."
"I think I saw Pete getting nasty with many, many people. Even you once, William!"
"Ah yes," said William. "I remember that. That was a nice night." He hit the call button.
"Patrick," said Bob, by way of greeting.
"Robert," said William. "Is that your name?"
"Who is this?" said Bob. He sounded suspicious. William liked that kind of guarded curiosity in a man. It was alluring.
"I don't believe we've been introduced," said William. "My name is William Beckett. My friends have liberated your good friend Patrick of the burden of technology."
"Huh."
"And I have taken it upon myself to explore the possibilities that his brand of technology offers."
"Yeah, and?"
"And. . ." William paused. Bob was making him nervous. He was a great unknown to William, and he didn’t know how to react to Bob’s utter lack of interest in him. "And I have done so, by calling you, my dear Robert-"
"Bob, actually," said Bob. "No one but my mother and Gerard calls me Robert, and only when I'm in trouble with Gerard."
"Ah, Gerard," said William. He paused again. He was having trouble holding up his end of the conversation. Butcher propped himself up one elbow to peer at William, confused.
"Gerard," agreed Bob. "It's been nice talking to you, but if you're not Patrick-"
"Er," said William. "No. What are you doing?"
There was silence.
"If I'm not being intrusive."
"Watching porn," said Bob after a while. He did not sound embarrassed at all.
"I like porn," offered William. Siska sat up so fast that he hit his head on Butcher's shoulder. William winced at him. "We have something in common! We, uh. We must destined for each other."
“Yes,” said Bob. “Well, actually it’s Frank’s porn.”
“Frank Iero does pornos?” said William. “I had no idea. I’ve never seen them.”
“Holy shit,” said Siska reverently.
“Yes,” said Bob and he was laughing. “Yes, well.”
There was more silence. William bit his lip. He was at a loss for words and that rarely ever happened. “Um,” he said. “Well. Um. Do you. . .do you always watch porn when you’re talking to Patrick?”
“Only when he wants me to,” said Bob. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Not that it’s any of my business,” William agreed. “Not at all. I, um. I.”
“William’s got it bad,” whispered Butcher to Sisky. William frowned at them. “Look at how he stutters.”
“William,” said Bob, “is there a reason you chose to call me over anyone else in Patrick’s phonebook? I know he has Timbaland on speed-dial.”
“Er,” said William. He flailed at Butcher and Sisky. They shrugged. “I, uh. It’s because you’re so alluring.”
“What?” said Bob.
“This is a booty call, actually,” said William. “What country are you in?”
“What?” said Bob, but he still sounded amused.
“I mean. Our bands should hang out sometime. I’m from The Academy Is. I, uh. Your voice.”
“Huh,” said Bob. “The Academy Is.”
“Oh my god,” said William. He hung up. Butcher and Sisky began to laugh.
“Dude, you’re in love!”
“Have you even met him? Have you even seen him?”
“I heard he has a lip ring. He’s blonde. A drummer.”
“I like lip rings,” said William faintly, still horrified at his loss of cool. “And drummers.”
Later that evening, after Spencer had made good on his promise to hunt down William, Patrick received a call from Bob Bryar.
“Bob.”
“Patrick.”
“What’s up?”
“So your friend William,” said Bob. “Can I get his number?”
“Why?” said Patrick. “If you don’t mind me asking. He’s kind of crazy.”
“I like him,” said Bob.
A "drabble" for adellyna, um. I wanted to do all of those pairings, but I couldn't get Brendon in and it doesn't really make sense as is.
I FIND YOU ALLURING - Bob Bryar/William Beckett.
It was the best game William had ever conceived, and to be sure, William had conceived of many good games. But Steal-Everyone's-Phones-And-Make-Inappropriate-Calls Game was both a great time waster and a time of wasted greatness. Oh yes. William was a legend. He chuckled to himself, thinking fondly of how foolhardy his friends had been to leave their dressing rooms unattended with Sisky and Butcher on the prowl. If he was a legend, they were the myths on which the very foundations of the science was built upon.
Butcher toasted him for the compliment and shotgunned a beer while William scrolled through Ryan Ross's contacts. "Paris Hilton?" he said.
"No way, no way," said Sisky. "I want her number. Hey, let me see."
William held him back, arm across his chest. Sisky fell backwards on to the floor of their dressing room. "That would be a gross misuse of Ryan's sidekick, Adam."
"Aw, please?"
"Spencer Smith," said William, his eyes alighting on a name. "Oh, Spencer Smith."
"We just saw him," said Butcher, leaning on top of Sisky. "That's not at all an inappropriate call. I think he even likes you."
William held up a hand. "Hush, it's ringing."
"You loser, we saw him like five minutes ago," said Sisky. "You got a crush on him?"
"No, it's everyone else who's got a crush on William."
"I've got a crush on William."
"I don't but I think Chislett does."
"You're just jealous."
"Spencer Smith," breathed William into the phone, his free hand covering Sisky's mouth. "My darling. Did it hurt? Did it hurt when you fell from heaven into my arms? Tell me, my sweetheart, is the sky grey because your eyes stole its color, or does it just mourn you, oh sun king?"
"You are so creepy," said Spencer.
"You are the music in me," said William. "Sing me a song, Spencer Smith. Sing me a lullaby."
"When I hear my favorite song," sang Spencer softly, "I know that we belong."
William sighed, over-dramatic.
"You are the creeper with my best friend's phone, and mark my words, I will find you."
William raised an eyebrow. "Zac Efron would be disappointed in you, Spencer Smith."
"Zac Efron doesn't have to know."
Spencer hung up, with a friendly round of threats to hunt down William. William sighed again. "He thinks I'm not serious."
"Mm, well," said Sisky. "You quoted High School Musical at him. That is not the way to a boy's heart. Maybe a preteen girl's. Maybe even a teenage girl's. But not a boy's."
William waved a hand. "He just hasn't realised his deep and abiding love for me yet. Hand me that blackberry. Who did you get from?"
"Patrick Stump," said Butcher. "A great conquest. He was standing in the room when we took it. Never knew what hit him."
"My kindest regards," said William. "That is a admirable conquest. He has reflexes like a cobra."
"He's no match for the Butcher," said Sisky fondly.
William started looking through Patrick's contact list. "Bob Bryar. When was the last time we had a proper get-together with the fine lads in My Chemical Romance?"
"Never. Not ever. Carden keeps saying we should."
"No one listens to Carden. But I think I saw Mikey Way in New York once."
"I think one time I saw Mikey Way freaking Gabe. Or Gabe was freaking Mikey? Freaking him out, I mean."
"I think I saw Pete getting nasty with Mikey once."
"I think I saw Pete getting nasty with many, many people. Even you once, William!"
"Ah yes," said William. "I remember that. That was a nice night." He hit the call button.
"Patrick," said Bob, by way of greeting.
"Robert," said William. "Is that your name?"
"Who is this?" said Bob. He sounded suspicious. William liked that kind of guarded curiosity in a man. It was alluring.
"I don't believe we've been introduced," said William. "My name is William Beckett. My friends have liberated your good friend Patrick of the burden of technology."
"Huh."
"And I have taken it upon myself to explore the possibilities that his brand of technology offers."
"Yeah, and?"
"And. . ." William paused. Bob was making him nervous. He was a great unknown to William, and he didn’t know how to react to Bob’s utter lack of interest in him. "And I have done so, by calling you, my dear Robert-"
"Bob, actually," said Bob. "No one but my mother and Gerard calls me Robert, and only when I'm in trouble with Gerard."
"Ah, Gerard," said William. He paused again. He was having trouble holding up his end of the conversation. Butcher propped himself up one elbow to peer at William, confused.
"Gerard," agreed Bob. "It's been nice talking to you, but if you're not Patrick-"
"Er," said William. "No. What are you doing?"
There was silence.
"If I'm not being intrusive."
"Watching porn," said Bob after a while. He did not sound embarrassed at all.
"I like porn," offered William. Siska sat up so fast that he hit his head on Butcher's shoulder. William winced at him. "We have something in common! We, uh. We must destined for each other."
“Yes,” said Bob. “Well, actually it’s Frank’s porn.”
“Frank Iero does pornos?” said William. “I had no idea. I’ve never seen them.”
“Holy shit,” said Siska reverently.
“Yes,” said Bob and he was laughing. “Yes, well.”
There was more silence. William bit his lip. He was at a loss for words and that rarely ever happened. “Um,” he said. “Well. Um. Do you. . .do you always watch porn when you’re talking to Patrick?”
“Only when he wants me to,” said Bob. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Not that it’s any of my business,” William agreed. “Not at all. I, um. I.”
“William’s got it bad,” whispered Butcher to Sisky. William frowned at them. “Look at how he stutters.”
“William,” said Bob, “is there a reason you chose to call me over anyone else in Patrick’s phonebook? I know he has Timbaland on speed-dial.”
“Er,” said William. He flailed at Butcher and Sisky. They shrugged. “I, uh. It’s because you’re so alluring.”
“What?” said Bob.
“This is a booty call, actually,” said William. “What country are you in?”
“What?” said Bob, but he still sounded amused.
“I mean. Our bands should hang out sometime. I’m from The Academy Is. I, uh. Your voice.”
“Huh,” said Bob. “The Academy Is.”
“Oh my god,” said William. He hung up. Butcher and Sisky began to laugh.
“Dude, you’re in love!”
“Have you even met him? Have you even seen him?”
“I heard he has a lip ring. He’s blonde. A drummer.”
“I like lip rings,” said William faintly, still horrified at his loss of cool. “And drummers.”
Later that evening, after Spencer had made good on his promise to hunt down William, Patrick received a call from Bob Bryar.
“Bob.”
“Patrick.”
“What’s up?”
“So your friend William,” said Bob. “Can I get his number?”
“Why?” said Patrick. “If you don’t mind me asking. He’s kind of crazy.”
“I like him,” said Bob.