Bandfic: Counting Cards (Brendon/Spencer, PG. AU.)
Title: Counting Cards (AU)
Author: tigs
Pairing: (slight) Brendon/Spencer
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't know or own.
Summary: "Play big, win big, right?"
Author's Notes: So I watched the movie 21 yesterday, and at some point while I was sitting in the theater, I decided that the Panic boys as card counters was a very nice image. I don't play Blackjack, and it's been years since I've been to Vegas, and I don't count cards, so I'm sure that artistic license has been taken! But I liked the image so I decided to write it up anyway. Unbeta'd.
Brendon sits down next to Spencer, but doesn't look over at him. He just smiles at the dealer, glances at his name tag, and says, "Jim? Jim. It's good to meet you, Jim." He takes a drink of his tonic and lime, then pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket, unfolds it onto the table, and says, "Twenty thousand."
He grins at the person on his left, a guy with a cowboy hat that's large enough it must be compensating for other deficiencies, then looks over at Spencer and grins, too. A moment later, his attention is back on Jim and he says, "Play big, win big, right?"
Jim just smiles, then starts dealing the cards out. The count is +16, sweet 16, and Spencer's been betting the minimum thousand, then the minimum plus one, then two, then back down to the minimum when he loses, as he inevitably does. All the twos are out of the way, there's two threes and a four left, but all four aces are still in the deck, and only one jack has gone by.
He takes a sip from his drink while Jim is giving Brendon his chips, then coughs. When Brendon looks at him, he says, "Sorry. Too fucking sweet." Brendon nods sympathetically, then turns his attention back to the table, pushing five thousand out onto the green mat with the tip of his finger. Spencer watches as he folds his hands after and waits for Jim to begin dealing.
Once Jim's made a first pass with the cards, Brendon turns to Hat Guy and says, "So, you here on business or pleasure? Or both! That's what I'm doing, business during the day, pleasure during the night, if you know what I mean. You know what I mean?"
Hat Guy leers in the direction of one of the girls wandering the floor, one of the ones in the tight, shiny dresses, and Spencer forces himself to laugh along with Brendon.
"What's your business?" he asks, because tonight Spencer (Alexander Wentworth, middle management) does not know Brendon, or his cover story, or where Brendon's going to end up spending the night.
Also, disinterest in Vegas is a noticeable trait.
Jim makes the second pass with the deck, and while Spencer ends up with 16 (another nine and seven gone), the house ends up with a soft 17.
"Investments," Brendon says. "Markets and trading. I like the risk, you know?" He wiggles his eyebrows at Spencer, then looks back at his cards. He's got two nines in front of him, layered one right on top of the other, and he doubles his bet, pushing another five grand onto the table.
"Split 'em up," he says. Then, "Thank you, Jim."
Three months ago, Spencer never would have believed Brendon in the role of a big market trader, but then again three months ago, the first time Pete'd introduced Spencer and Brendon, he'd been wearing a pink hoodie, red-framed glasses, and he'd been bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Tonight he's still wearing glasses, actually-thin gold frames-but he's got on a two thousand dollar suit, a Rolex, and the hand he picks up his drink with is steady.
Jim deals Brendon another two cards, a ten and an eight, then deals another for himself-a seven-and Brendon actually stands up out of his chair in excitement, as if it was totally unexpected. He throws his arms around Hat Guy, knocking his hat askew, then turns and does the same to Spencer, letting go before the touch can seem too friendly.
Brendon can be a consummate professional when he wants to be.
Spencer's smiling, too, because while he might not have just won ten grand like Brendon, he did win an extra one, which for the cover he's using tonight isn't so bad.
Plus, all four aces are still in the deck.
*
The deck gets cold three hands later, once Brendon's turned his original 20 thousand into 48. He's been grinning for the last fifteen minutes, nearly shaking with excitement, hugging Spencer and Hat Guy each time he wins.
Hand number five, and all four aces are gone, just a jack and a queen left, not to mention two sevens, a five, a four. They both know they're done, but Spencer's not surprised when Brendon plays the hand anyway, betting five, losing it when he tops out at 14, compared to the dealer's 16.
"You win some, you lose some," Brendon says, sighing, all signs of euphoria gone. Just for a moment, though, before he straightens up and says, "But since I really don't want to risk a cold streak, I think I'd better cut myself off right now. Thank you for a very good time, Jim. It's been a pleasure."
He picks a few chips out of his tray and slides them Jim's way.
Jim nods his thanks, amused, and waits while Brendon gathers his chips and drink, and head off further into the casino.
Another player immediately slips into Brendon's place, a lady wearing white silk and diamonds the size of Spencer's fingernails. She drops a stack of chips onto the table, a good eight thousand worth.
"Deal me in," she says. Then, "No, wait. Hold up, I'm feeling lucky. Wait just a minute, would you? James? James, I need another stack, baby!"
Spencer looks over his shoulder in time to see Brendon sit down at Jon's table. Jon's laughing at something the dealer says. When he answers, Spencer knows that Jon is giving Brendon the count, working it into the reply. He's playing the drunk frat boy tonight, one that comes from a family with money. When Spencer passed him earlier in the evening, he'd been telling the dealer about his brothers, making up an adventure at Disneyland.
Spencer's not at that table, though. He's still at his own, so he turns his attention back to his game and pushes a short stack of chips forward. Twelve hundred worth this time. He'll lose this one, one more, and then he'll head out to try another table and let the whole cycle start over again.
*
He's actually up five by the time the night ends; win or lose, it all balances out in the end if you let it, Pete says. He's waiting by the elevators, hand wrapped around the cash in his pocket, and then someone's stopping beside him, brushing his elbow with their own.
"Long time no see," Brendon says, and then he sticks out his hand. "I don't think I introduced myself earlier. Nick Jordan, and you are?"
"Alex," Spencer says. "Wentworth. Good to meet you." Brendon's hand is still wrapped around his own, lingering longer now that they're not on the floor, not being watched. Brendon lets go when the elevator dings, the doors sliding open, and as luck would have it, they're the only ones waiting, the only ones to go inside.
The doors slide shut and Brendon steps close to Spencer, pressing him back against the mirrored wall. He leans his forehead on Spencer's shoulder and breathes in.
"Good night?" Spencer asks, and Brendon pulls back far enough to nod, to press his nose to Spencer's neck.
"Very good," Brendon says, then leans forward to give Spencer a peck, lightening fast. "Good enough that I think we need to celebrate. You know what I mean?"
He wiggles his eyebrows in that way he has, and Spencer says, "I know what you mean." He uses his body to turn Brendon around, push him up against the wall, and it's his turn to kiss Brendon, longer than a peck.
Good night indeed, he thinks.
End.
Author: tigs
Pairing: (slight) Brendon/Spencer
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't know or own.
Summary: "Play big, win big, right?"
Author's Notes: So I watched the movie 21 yesterday, and at some point while I was sitting in the theater, I decided that the Panic boys as card counters was a very nice image. I don't play Blackjack, and it's been years since I've been to Vegas, and I don't count cards, so I'm sure that artistic license has been taken! But I liked the image so I decided to write it up anyway. Unbeta'd.
Brendon sits down next to Spencer, but doesn't look over at him. He just smiles at the dealer, glances at his name tag, and says, "Jim? Jim. It's good to meet you, Jim." He takes a drink of his tonic and lime, then pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket, unfolds it onto the table, and says, "Twenty thousand."
He grins at the person on his left, a guy with a cowboy hat that's large enough it must be compensating for other deficiencies, then looks over at Spencer and grins, too. A moment later, his attention is back on Jim and he says, "Play big, win big, right?"
Jim just smiles, then starts dealing the cards out. The count is +16, sweet 16, and Spencer's been betting the minimum thousand, then the minimum plus one, then two, then back down to the minimum when he loses, as he inevitably does. All the twos are out of the way, there's two threes and a four left, but all four aces are still in the deck, and only one jack has gone by.
He takes a sip from his drink while Jim is giving Brendon his chips, then coughs. When Brendon looks at him, he says, "Sorry. Too fucking sweet." Brendon nods sympathetically, then turns his attention back to the table, pushing five thousand out onto the green mat with the tip of his finger. Spencer watches as he folds his hands after and waits for Jim to begin dealing.
Once Jim's made a first pass with the cards, Brendon turns to Hat Guy and says, "So, you here on business or pleasure? Or both! That's what I'm doing, business during the day, pleasure during the night, if you know what I mean. You know what I mean?"
Hat Guy leers in the direction of one of the girls wandering the floor, one of the ones in the tight, shiny dresses, and Spencer forces himself to laugh along with Brendon.
"What's your business?" he asks, because tonight Spencer (Alexander Wentworth, middle management) does not know Brendon, or his cover story, or where Brendon's going to end up spending the night.
Also, disinterest in Vegas is a noticeable trait.
Jim makes the second pass with the deck, and while Spencer ends up with 16 (another nine and seven gone), the house ends up with a soft 17.
"Investments," Brendon says. "Markets and trading. I like the risk, you know?" He wiggles his eyebrows at Spencer, then looks back at his cards. He's got two nines in front of him, layered one right on top of the other, and he doubles his bet, pushing another five grand onto the table.
"Split 'em up," he says. Then, "Thank you, Jim."
Three months ago, Spencer never would have believed Brendon in the role of a big market trader, but then again three months ago, the first time Pete'd introduced Spencer and Brendon, he'd been wearing a pink hoodie, red-framed glasses, and he'd been bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Tonight he's still wearing glasses, actually-thin gold frames-but he's got on a two thousand dollar suit, a Rolex, and the hand he picks up his drink with is steady.
Jim deals Brendon another two cards, a ten and an eight, then deals another for himself-a seven-and Brendon actually stands up out of his chair in excitement, as if it was totally unexpected. He throws his arms around Hat Guy, knocking his hat askew, then turns and does the same to Spencer, letting go before the touch can seem too friendly.
Brendon can be a consummate professional when he wants to be.
Spencer's smiling, too, because while he might not have just won ten grand like Brendon, he did win an extra one, which for the cover he's using tonight isn't so bad.
Plus, all four aces are still in the deck.
*
The deck gets cold three hands later, once Brendon's turned his original 20 thousand into 48. He's been grinning for the last fifteen minutes, nearly shaking with excitement, hugging Spencer and Hat Guy each time he wins.
Hand number five, and all four aces are gone, just a jack and a queen left, not to mention two sevens, a five, a four. They both know they're done, but Spencer's not surprised when Brendon plays the hand anyway, betting five, losing it when he tops out at 14, compared to the dealer's 16.
"You win some, you lose some," Brendon says, sighing, all signs of euphoria gone. Just for a moment, though, before he straightens up and says, "But since I really don't want to risk a cold streak, I think I'd better cut myself off right now. Thank you for a very good time, Jim. It's been a pleasure."
He picks a few chips out of his tray and slides them Jim's way.
Jim nods his thanks, amused, and waits while Brendon gathers his chips and drink, and head off further into the casino.
Another player immediately slips into Brendon's place, a lady wearing white silk and diamonds the size of Spencer's fingernails. She drops a stack of chips onto the table, a good eight thousand worth.
"Deal me in," she says. Then, "No, wait. Hold up, I'm feeling lucky. Wait just a minute, would you? James? James, I need another stack, baby!"
Spencer looks over his shoulder in time to see Brendon sit down at Jon's table. Jon's laughing at something the dealer says. When he answers, Spencer knows that Jon is giving Brendon the count, working it into the reply. He's playing the drunk frat boy tonight, one that comes from a family with money. When Spencer passed him earlier in the evening, he'd been telling the dealer about his brothers, making up an adventure at Disneyland.
Spencer's not at that table, though. He's still at his own, so he turns his attention back to his game and pushes a short stack of chips forward. Twelve hundred worth this time. He'll lose this one, one more, and then he'll head out to try another table and let the whole cycle start over again.
*
He's actually up five by the time the night ends; win or lose, it all balances out in the end if you let it, Pete says. He's waiting by the elevators, hand wrapped around the cash in his pocket, and then someone's stopping beside him, brushing his elbow with their own.
"Long time no see," Brendon says, and then he sticks out his hand. "I don't think I introduced myself earlier. Nick Jordan, and you are?"
"Alex," Spencer says. "Wentworth. Good to meet you." Brendon's hand is still wrapped around his own, lingering longer now that they're not on the floor, not being watched. Brendon lets go when the elevator dings, the doors sliding open, and as luck would have it, they're the only ones waiting, the only ones to go inside.
The doors slide shut and Brendon steps close to Spencer, pressing him back against the mirrored wall. He leans his forehead on Spencer's shoulder and breathes in.
"Good night?" Spencer asks, and Brendon pulls back far enough to nod, to press his nose to Spencer's neck.
"Very good," Brendon says, then leans forward to give Spencer a peck, lightening fast. "Good enough that I think we need to celebrate. You know what I mean?"
He wiggles his eyebrows in that way he has, and Spencer says, "I know what you mean." He uses his body to turn Brendon around, push him up against the wall, and it's his turn to kiss Brendon, longer than a peck.
Good night indeed, he thinks.
End.