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astoryandasong ([personal profile] astoryandasong) wrote2009-03-06 06:52 pm

Unapologetic Love Story (1/2)

 

I could actually not be more nervous about posting this, haha, please don't kill and eat me. 

Unapologetic Love Story

Brendon/Bob

College!AU, 14,000 words

Summary: Falling in love is an everyday thing

  

After The Break Up


Bob leaves Chicago on a Tuesday, and Gerard and Ray help him move back to Belleville. The apartment he shared with Mark is empty, waiting for a new tenant- he doesn’t even know where Mark is now. With someone else, maybe, but thinking about that is just asking for trouble.  There's nothing left for him here, but he takes comfort in the squint of Gerard's eyes behind sunglasses and the quiet way that Ray takes care of handing Bob's keys back.

His Aunt May left him her apartment in her will last year; at least he won’t have to move back in with his mom. As much as he loves her, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. He’s signed on for classes in Jersey, half his credits won’t transfer so he’s going to lose a year.

He wishes he was going home for a different reason.

This is not the way I had planned it

Two days later-one of reassuring his mom and one of unpacking/hiding under the duvet- Gerard invites him down to Asylum, their local coffee shop/comic store/general nerd hang-out. Bob of course, wakes up late, and starts cursing with every word in his extensive vocabulary.  He's late to meet Gerard, he can't find matching socks, and he burns his breakfast. The socks he can live with, but he's hungry and Gerard has this tendency to wander off if you're late to meet him. Unless you're Frank or Mikey, in which case Gerard will wait forever in a blizzard till you show. It’s not, as he’s explained, that he doesn’t care. He’s just sort of genuinely flaky.  

When he finally gets to Asylum, Gerard is still there, thank god. He's tucked into a corner booth with another guy with dark hair. Even from far away, Bob can tell he's too tall and lacks enough tattoos to be Frankie. They're pouring over a sketchbook, coffees steaming in front of them. Bob can't help but smile- Gerard has that affect on him, most of the time. Despite his problems, Gerard is one of the sweetest people he knows. Then strange guy looks up, catches Bob smiling at them and smiles back. Part of Bob wonders who is that and why is he here and the other part is just busy noticing how gorgeous the guy is. Gerard looks up as well then and almost knocks over his coffee waving.

 "Bob! Hi, look. I'm drawing Brendon as a ninja." Gerard holds up the paper and indeed, it's the boy, lips and all.

"It would be better as a zombie ninja, Gee. I'm Brendon, by the way."

"Brendon's in my art class. He's a double major, art and music." Brendon gives a little wave, like yep, that’s me.

"Also I'm an Aries and enjoy long walks on the beach."

"I'm Bob. Music major. Astrology denier."

"Oh cool. We might have class together if you’re music. What instruments? Oh wait, you totally aren't caffeinated yet. Ignore me and go get some coffee."

"Yeah, sorry. It’s been a long week. I can’t function these days without at least two shots of espresso. Then we can have something resembling conversation.” He hasn't shaved at all either- he's suddenly aware that his beard could use some serious grooming.

"Nah, don’t worry. My ex-roommate is the same. Total grouch without coffee. Learning that was a painful process."

Bob realises that he's sort of standing around like a complete dorkface, so he drops his bag and goes to grab coffee, kicking himself internally for being such a giant nerd. When he finally has his double espresso in hand, he drops down into the squishy seat next to Gerard and Brendon. Gerard is clearly informing Brendon about every detail of Bob's life.

"Bob just transferred in from Chicago - the funding for the music department got cut so he decided to take his credits and run."

Brendon nods sympathetically. Cutting music funding is just wrong on so many levels. Bob wonders if Brendon likes horror movies and Thai food. He's currently tucking into a rather elaborate cupcake with what looks like strawberry icing and candy hearts. Gerard isn’t even lying- they did cut the funding. It wasn’t the whole reason, but Bob figures its good enough for now.

 “So, back to music. What instruments are you doing?” A candy heart disappears.

 “Drums, bass, sound-mixing.  I uh, kind of love the techie stuff. What about you? Let me guess, piano?”

 “Firstly, awesome, because one of my favourite people ever is a drummer and secondly yes. Piano and vocal. Also art, because I am fickle.”

 Gerard rolls his eyes.

 “Fuck fickle. Don’t listen to him, Bob. He’s amazing. On the Templeton scholarship and everything.”

 Brendon actually blushes. Bob wonders, what age is he?

 “Where you from? Sure as hell isn’t Jersey.”

 

“Vegas. Me and two other guys moved out here together last year. Everything was great until the winter. I was so cold I thought I was actually going to die.”

 Brendon looks at his watch. Bob can see Mickey Mouse on its face, with tiny Mickey arms for hands.

 “Argh, I have a studio session with one of the guys up from Parsons. Total fucking diva. I’m designing fabric for his collection- dude is a micro-manager. Like I can’t screen-print a fucking sample all by myself. He comes all the way to Jersey just to be a pain in my ass.” He and Gerard roll their eyes in unison, then Brendon gets out a bit of paper and scribbles on it with the sharpie that Gerard was using to outline ninja!Brendon.

 “Here’s my cell number. If we’re going to be in classes together we should meet up or something?”

 He passes it over and before Bob can say anything else, he’s gone.

 The rest of the day passes sort of quietly. Gerard fills him in on the comings and goings in their group of friends. Jon Walker is dating Brendon’s room-mate, Spencer, Gerard is still crazy about Frank, Pete Wentz finally conned Patrick Stump into bed somehow. Mikey’s still practically married to Alicia Simmons. Bob remembered when going away to Chicago had been partly to get out from underneath all of this stuff. When being away from Belleville and the various people who drifted in and out of the Way’s basement room had been like a release. But now, listening to Gerard talk, thinking about a pretty guy eating a cupcake, he’s glad to be home.

 “You like him.” Gerard is smiling happily. Polishing off what's left of a bagel. Bob's startled by the question, and by the smile.

“What?”

“Brendon. You like him.”

“I only just met him. I don’t know him.”

“He’s gay.”

Gerard.

“Also, he’s single.”

“Shut up.”

Fitting in again (also, a Boy)

It’s a Wednesday, two days before the start of classes for real. Bob’s been busy getting organised, finding a part-time job (he’s going to run sound for the local dive venue) and avoiding Gerard’s attempts to throw him together with Brendon.

Well. Kind of avoiding them- since meeting in the café, they’ve been running into each other all over the place. In Asylum, at Gerard’s.  Ray has a pre-semester party, and Brendon is there with one of his room-mates.  They don’t actually get any time to talk alone, and the amount of time they’ve talked still amounts to less than a couple of hours. But Gerard was right, Bob does like him. Likes his enthusiasm for music, his obvious kindness, his ridiculous sense of humor.

This is why Bob doesn’t even blink when Gerard says:

 "You should ask him out," Gerard doesn't look up from his page. They’re in Gerard’s basement, waiting for Frankie to come over. It amuses Bob pretty much endlessly that Frank is still in High School.  "He likes you."

Bob just stares at Gerard's drawing of Brendon as a ninja zombie for a minute, wondering when he started taking relationship advice from the guy whose boyfriend practically had to do naked handstands before he got the message. 

"How do you know?"

"He told me. Or, well, he told Spencer who told Jon and then Jon told Tom and then Tom told Pete then Pete told Mikey who told me."

By the time Gerard gets to Pete's name he's rolling his eyes. It's just a-

"Then I asked him and he said yes." Gerard finally looks up. His expression is what some people might call 'impish'. Bob just calls it 'crazy'.

"You what?"

"I asked him! He said that he thought you were nice, and also hot like burning. He'd totally date you." Then he smirked. It made him look like a Goth Mean Girl. "I know you got his number. Call him."

"I'll think about it." He feels like snapping back, but it comes out sounding sort of whipped. Gerard just keeps his crazy face on and goes back to whatever it was he was drawing. Fuck him and his being right.

He totally plans to call Brendon. He has this whole thing in his head- what to say, where to go. He hasn’t dated in forever- he and Mark never really dated at all.  So he’s kind of at a loss with this stuff. Which is why, when he arrives at his first class of the year, he still hasn’t called. It's some ridiculous intro to rhythm type class, but whatever, Bob loves that shit. Drums and sound mixing are his favourite things- he can cope with some rhythmically challenged classmates in order to get time with some pretty sweet kits. He shows up and there's Brendon, standing next to another pretty boy and Jon Walker, whom Bob has known forever. He guesses the other pretty one must be Spencer Smith, Jon's new boyfriend and also the Spencer who passed on the 'hot like burning' quote. He is also, according to various sources (William Beckett, Frankie, and Brendon) 'a complete bitch', 'really hot', 'overprotective' and 'actually a kitten, honestly'. He's also the most 'awesome drummer I’ve ever met, Bob Bryar, no lie.' Brendon has mentioned him a couple of times since they met.  Bob likes him already for having awesome friends like Brendon and the good taste to appreciate Jon Walker. The fact that he's a drummer only proves what Bob already knows, which is that Spencer Smith is a) very sensible and b) sure to be an ally.

"Look, you guys, it's Bob! You honour us with your aura, Bob Bryar." Brendon bows dorkily, much to Smith's amusement. Smith is wearing a Pussycat Dolls Hoodie, and is clearly another member of the girl jean brigade.

"Long time no see, Bryar."  Jon gives him a manly hug. Jon is still Jon- scruffy, wearing flip-flops, looks as if he's inhaled half of Joe Trohman's stash.

They small talk about the Chicago music scene for a while before the Professor arrives, much to Brendon and Spencer's interest. Then they take seats around the walls for the theory part of the lesson.

He's sort of nervous, all the way through class. He chews his pen, taps his foot. He stops, though, when he sees Jon grinning at him. There is entirely too much gossiping going on for his liking. Fucking Frank and Mikey. The entire world must know by now that he's going to ask Brendon out. Fucking Pete Wentz. He has no idea how Patrick copes.

So after class, he gets his zen on and...almost trips over Alicia Simmons' Eastpak.  Jon to his credit, doesn't laugh, just lets himself be led away by Spencer, who is definitely not smirking at all. He is actually narrowing his eyes at Bob. Brendon looks concerned. His lower lip gets pouty when he makes that face, he thinks, I'd really like to lick it.

"So, uh, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to catch a movie?" Fuck. He had been going to go for the mini-golf idea.

"Me and you? As in, maybe, a date of some kind?" He's biting his lip now. It’s so unfair. How is Bob supposed to concentrate?

"Uh yeah. Tonight?" He totally meant to say Tuesday, or next week.

A slow grin spreads over Brendon's face.

"Lead me to your movie, Bob."

"Cool. I'll meet you at Asylum at seven?" He's really trying not to grin like a dork and failing.

"See you there."

He manages not to trip over anything on his way out. He's very proud.

 Sometimes you can’t choose a hoodie on your own

Bob is not usually a guy who worries about his clothing- but for some reason this shirt is just not sitting right. It's totally bugging him, and he's been trying to decide on what hoodie to wear for half an hour.

Frank slaps at his hands.

"You look great, Bob. Brendon is totally going to be swooning into your arms like a hallmark heroine in no time."

"I'm beginning to regret telling you about this," he grumbles "You're both enjoying it entirely too much."

He had text
Gerard after asking Brendon out because Gerard was, after all, sort of like the yenta in all this business. He and Frank had been waiting outside his apartment block by the time he got home. The two of them are almost as excited as Bob.

Gerard has that 'concerned' wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"We just want you to be happy, Bob. You deserve a nice guy."

"Yeah dude, you're awesome, Brendon's awesome. You both deserve it."

 Frank is also a member of the Brendon fan club. At Ray’s party, he had stayed sober with Gerard, hung out in the garden while Gerard smoked. Frankie is a fan of anyone who treats Gerard right.

They don't mention Mark, and Bob is grateful for it. It's only really Gerard who knows how bad things got with him towards the end, which means Frank probably has some idea. Gerard picks imaginary lint off of Bob's hoodie. Bob isn't entirely sure that he might not cry. Bob once saw Gerard cry during an episode of Barney the purple dinosaur.  He wasn’t even drunk at the time. So he lets Gerard fuss without rolling his eyes too much, and when he punches Frankie's shoulder he doesn't even give him a dead arm.

They both stand at the front steps of his apartment to wave him off.  They look like the world's most goth my two dads possible. He envies and feels sorry for any kid they ever adopt in equal measure. He shakes his head to himself and heads for Asylum.

 In which Andy Hurley’s name is taken in vain and there is a date

As he walks, he thinks about how he’d met Mark, way back in the day when they’d sit in Miss Helena’s garden and smoke and read comics. Mark had been new, and interesting. Interesting enough that Bob had followed him to Chicago. His mom had disliked Mark from the off- Bob had dismissed it thinking she wouldn’t like any guy he dated because they were just that- guys. But in the end his Mom had been right. Luckily she was too nice to say so when he called and told her he was coming home.

By the time he gets to there, he’s half worried that Brendon won’t show.  But then he sees a flash of a lavender hoodie and red-glasses, and he knows its Brendon. Who else does he know who wears jeans that tight? Bob wonders if his friends helped dress him. He wouldn’t actually put it past Spencer Smith, mind you, from the look on his face earlier.  He gives a little wave as he spots Bob, smiling.  Bob kind of wants Brendon to always smile at him like that. He’s really gorgeous when he smiles- all full lips and white teeth. They say hello in that awkward way that two people alone for the first time have. Will we hug? No. What?

“Do you know what movie we’re going to see?” Brendon has his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, looking cold despite the mildness of the day.

“Ratatouille is playing, still. I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Oh cool. Greta in work went to see it and she said it was amazing. Better than Finding Nemo even.”

“No way. That movie rules.”

Brendon’s expression tells him that he just scored major brownie points.

“Oooh, are we going to the movie place with the actual, artery clogging butter?”

“If you mean the one on the next block then yep.”

“Oh awesome.”

“So were Ryan and Spencer as excited about the fact we’re going out tonight as Frankie and Gerard?”

 Brendon, who knows Gerard well enough by now, ducks his head. Bob can see the slight smirk on his face as he looks at the pavement.

“Yeah, they were pretty excited. I also thought Jon was going to burst my ribs or something. Dude hugged me, in like, the sprit of congratulations.”

Bob can’t help but laugh at Brendon’s wry tone.

“Well, I’m pretty happy to be here, if that helps.”

“So am I.”

Before Bob can say anything else, they’re at the movie theatre and splitting up to get tickets and popcorn.

Bob’ still in the ticket line when Brendon comes back carrying a bucket of popcorn and two sodas which may actually be bigger than he is.


"Did you get butter?"

"Of course, what do you think I am? Andy Hurley, vegan ninja?"

The girl at the ticket counter is obviously amused by them, and ups them to premier seats at no extra charge.  When they get into the darkness of the theatre, Bob experiences seating-related angst- to sit at the back or in the middle? Luckily, Brendon doesn't actually seem to care and stakes out two seats at the back.  Total make-out territory.

Ratatouille was totally the right choice. Brendon is laughing in all the right places and Bob can see the flash of his teeth in the dim light. Bob would be laughing too, if he could even pretend to concentrate on the movie. But all he can really think about is the warmth of Brendon's thigh next to his and the skin of Brendon's neck. Their hands keep brushing as they go for popcorn. It's getting pretty desperate, and he considers trying the old yawn and stretch move. As he's considering, Brendon yawns and stretches his arms a little, draping one arm along Bob's back and leaning on his shoulder. Bob can't help but laugh and turn his face into Brendon's hair, before snuggling into his arm and settling in to watch the movie. When his hand brushes Brendon's free one, he holds it.


It could be awkward after that when the lights go up, but Brendon seems to be happy, so Bob decides that awkwardness is for losers and keeps holding Brendon's hand. As he walks with Brendon towards Asylum, Bob decides to tell Brendon some ridiculous story involving Ray Toro, an octopus and Gerard spending the night in a jail cell. He doesn't really want to go to Asylum- chances of being alone with Brendon there are practically nil. He wouldn't put it past Pete to have dragged Patrick down there to pounce on them when they walk in. He wants to talk to Brendon for a while. Ask about his family, his room-mates. What is favourite colour is. How does he feel about cats? Marvel or DC?

"Let's not go to Asylum. I have the feeling that Spence and Ryan will be there, and I'm kind of enjoying having you all to myself." Brendon is looking up at him sort of shyly. They're still holding hands.

"Where do you want to go?"

"There's the diner round the corner? Ryan refuses to go there because he has a crush on the waitress and he gets all shy."

"Sounds good to me."

Milly's Diner looks like the Grease set designer took one last commission before retirement. Bob used to come here all the time with Mikey- Gerard too, when they could get him to leave the basement. They do the most awesome vanilla milkshakes Bob has ever had. Brendon waves to the waitress, whose nametag reads 'Keltie'. She waves back, looking happy, and comes over to take their order.

"Hey there, B. How's life treating you?"

"Can't complain right now. Keltie, this is Bob."

She nods in his direction and readies her pen.

"What can I get you two tonight? The burgers are always tasty."

Brendon orders a burger and a vanilla shake. Bob just shrugs and says he'll have the same. He feels relaxed like he hasn't in a while.

"Do you know someone everywhere?" He's shaking his head, amused.

"Not everywhere, but I like to talk to people. Sometimes, you know, just randomly. But you meet really good people that way sometimes. Take Keltie for example- she's lovely."

Bob has to admit she is.

"Is she the one Ryan has a crush on?"

"Oh yeah. He thinks she's amazing. Won't come and talk to her though. Too shy, I guess."

"He does seem that way." Bob has met Ryan Ross exactly once, at Ray's party. He seemed nice enough, if a bit distant. Spent most of the party talking in an intensely drunken way to William Beckett about proper scarf wearing.  He'd barely said hello to Bob when Brendon introduced them.

"Anyway, never mind about Ryan. What brings you back to the Garden State, Bob?"

Bob runs his hand across his scalp, thinks for a second about how to answer.

"Well, like Gerard said, they cut the music funding, so boom went about $2000 of my scholarship...but I would have found a way to stay on I guess, if I had really wanted to. Truth is I wanted a new start. The guy I was living with was kind of hassling me- we used to be a thing, then we weren't, then he wanted to be again. Wouldn't leave it alone, so I took him back a while, then he cheated. Then with the scholarship...seemed like a sign."

"So you came back to Jersey?"

"Yeah. Montclair has a good program, and my family and friends are here, really."

"Well, not to sound selfish or anything, but I'm glad you came."

Bob is thankful he isn't the blushing kind of guy, because if he was, he totally would be.

"Well, aren't you two the cutest thing?"

It's Keltie, weighed down by burgers. Brendon, who is the type of guy to blush, has gone red.

Keltie laughs. "You two just keep on doing what you were doing. Your shakes will only be a minute."

Bob can't help but laugh with her- they really are one step away from a single-shake-with-two-straws-loving-gaze type of deal.

When their shakes are on the table and Keltie has gone off to serve another table, Bob is still grinning.

"So how did you end up here? Nevada's quite a ways from Jersey."

"That's kind of the point."

"Oh?"

"My family are um, Mormon? And they don't appreciate the gay. They haven't disowned me or anything but Nevada is not the most comfortable place to be. Plus, Ryan and Spence were coming here anyway so I applied."

"Wow. That's pretty cool- the being here with Ryan and Spencer, not the thing with your parents."

"Yeah. They've been friends forever, you know? But they always manage to avoid giving me the whole third wheel feeling. Plus Spencer is like, crazy protective of both of us. Like- he's just one of the best people I know."

"He's not going to come after me, is he?"

"You're okay. Jon Walker vouched for you. Also Gerard and everyone else I know who has ever met you." He pauses. "They all told me that I should ask you out. I was going to. But you got there first."

"You could still, you know, ask me out. On another date, if you wanted." He looks down at his food, and he hears Brendon hum a little.

"Bob, would you like to go out again? Say, any time, as soon as possible?"

Bob summons up enough confidence to tease. He knows he's smirking.

"And where would you be taking me, Urie? Where could live up to the awesome of Pixar?"

"I think you would make a great mini-golfer?"

"I think I can handle that."

"Awesome."  Brendon actually looks relieved. "You know what? It’s a pirate mini-golf."

"Do we have to wear eyepatches?"

"I don't think so, but I think you'd rock the hat."

After that they actually eat some of the food, while Brendon tells Bob some story about Frank getting all pissed at some dude who tripped Brendon up while they were out somewhere. Brendon's hands are going everywhere as he acts out Frank trying to tackle some dude a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier. Dude was ready to punch Frank out, until Gabe Saporta 'mysteriously appeared out of nowhere' and tapped the dude on the shoulder.  Gabe is apparently fond of Brendon. Bob starts to feel an itch between his shoulder blades. Gabe Saporta is a great guy, but he has what Gerard aptly calls 'creepy rapist eyes'. Bob isn't actually a huge fan of Gabe, but he’s starting to like the way that Brendon tells a story, wide eyed and waving his hands.

Keltie comes and takes away their dishes, brings another shake. They keep talking about random things- about music and work and yes, Marvel vs. DC. It doesn't seem like they've been there long, but when Bob finally checks his watch it’s almost midnight.

"It's nearly midnight. I have to get some sleep or else I'm not going to be able to stay awake tomorrow."

"God, I thought it was ten thirty or something!" Brendon pulls out his phone. "I forgot to turn it back on after the movie. There's probably sixty texts from Ryan wondering if you've murdered me."

He laughs. "There's five from Ryan, two from Spence and an IM from Jon with a picture of a Starbucks cup. I had better get back."

"I'll walk you back."

"Nah, we live in opposite directions. Walk me to Asylum though?"

He finishes off his shake and nods. They pay the bill and offer to walk with Keltie, but she has a ride waiting for her.

As they walk back to Asylum, Bob realises that he's actually sorry the night is over. He's had a great time. So when they finally reach Asylum's now-shuttered doors he feels like lingering, like standing here for a while more with Brendon under the yellow lights.

"So. I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I uh, have a meeting with my piano teacher. He wants me to do this thing next week, but I'll see you at lunch?"

"Yeah."

They both shuffle on their feet slightly, and eventually Brendon huffs out a breath and puts his hands on Bob's chest. They're nearly the same height, which is a shock, almost. Brendon looks as if he should be smaller. But that's the only thought he has time for before Brendon tilts his head and presses his lips to Bob's. They're warm and slightly sweet from the milkshake, and it takes a moment before Bob's hands come up to rest on Brendon's forearms, resisting the urge to just pull him close. Almost as soon as he's started to get into it- it's over.

Brendon pulls back, and his face is flushed.

"I just sort of had to do that, but I really should go now." He says, not making a move out of Bob's grip.

"That would involve me letting go now, wouldn't it?"

"Yep, although you can definitely, um, do that again next time."

Bob hangs on for a second or two more before letting go. He's man enough to admit that he's looking at Brendon's ass as he walks away.


In which a veneer of domesticity is applied

His phone, of course, was buzzing in his pocket all last night. He deletes most of the messages except Gerard's as he eats breakfast. He thinks about what to text back all through his first cup of coffee, but eventually settles on a smiley face. Gerard will get it- besides, he's pretty sure Gerard and Brendon have class together today anyway. He calls his mom- he'd been in the process of selling this place way back when he and Mark split but he's glad now that he didn't- she needs to speak to some lawyers and he needs to sign some stuff. Then he calls Ray and asks to borrow the van again. He desperately needs some shit from Ikea. His Aunt May loved doilies and the colour pink. Bob is sure that those are valid decorating choices, as long as he doesn't have to look at the end result.

Ray arrives on time (Ray is always on time) with Brendon, Gerard and Patrick Stump in tow. Bob climbs in the back seat with Gerard and Brendon. Gerard has thoughtfully let Brendon sit in the middle.

"What do you need to get?" Gerard looks very earnest.

"Things to put my stuff in, new sheets, a new bed, and possibly a new rug."

Patrick and Gerard immediately begin to formulate a finely calibrated plan of attack which involves far too much interior design terminology for Bob's liking. Brendon nudges him in the side.

"Dude, you have my admiration. Ikea frightens me."

"It is vaguely like a labyrinth."

"Exactly, but at the heart of Ikea there is no Bowie, only hotdogs."

"I do need a new bed though." It sort of slips out before Bob engages his brain, and he's pretty sure he may be bright red right now.

Brendon doesn't say anything, just grins and looks out of the window.

Ray meets his eyes in the mirror and smirks.

Ikea is indeed a soulless labyrinth. Even Patrick, who can actually get Pete Wentz to play nice occasionally, looks scared. Brendon and Gerard are clinging to each other as they examine some of the 'ugliest fabric I have ever seen this is so painful'. Ray's hair looks as if it had a fight with a humidifier and the humidifier won.

All he has on the trolley are some flimsy shelving units and a set of tupperware.

They agree to a strategic split - Ray and Gerard will go and find the hot dogs, Patrick will try and find a couple of lamps that won't actively make the more artistic members of the party want to die, and Bob and Brendon are going to go and find a bed.

He's in a daze- one moment Ray and Gerard are saying 'hot dogs' and the next Brendon is looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to lead the way to the beds. So he does, and keeps nodding while Brendon extols the virtues of an Ikea mattress.  He apparently has one, and so does Spencer. Bob is still processing 'bed' and 'Brendon'.

He's pretty sure people have climbed Kilimanjaro in the time it takes for them to find the beds. Choosing the frame is easy- a dark wood king size, long enough that his feet don't dangle off the end.

"What do you think?"

"It's nice. What colour are you going to do the walls in the bedroom?"

"Green. Um, sort of dark?"

"Oh like a forest green."

"Yeah."

"It should really go well. Will you still have enough space for a closet?"

"Oh the closets are built-in."

"Then you're golden. This is really nice."

Bob kind of wants to press for more, he really wants Brendon to like it, for whatever reason. Least of all that he's hoping he can get Brendon into it, really soon. But he just smiles and writes the number down.

The mattresses are a different story. He genuinely has no idea what to choose.  He just sort of stands there a minute and feels confused until Brendon laughs.

"Bob, it's a mattress. It can't bite you."

"No, but there are so many. How is a dude supposed to choose?"

"Um, like this?" Brendon is still laughing as he falls back on one of the mattresses.

"Come on, Bob Bryar, lie down with me."

He leans up on his elbows and pats the mattress. Bob doesn't have to be told twice.

He lies down carefully and turns his head to face Brendon.

"Now what?"

"Now you have to bounce on it a bit. Do you prefer squishy mattresses or firm?"

Somehow, Brendon is still keeping a straight face.

"I like my mattresses a bit firmer than most I guess."

Bob plays along. He's kinda getting his old groove back. This whole flirty innuendo thing is much less awkward and sweaty than he remembers.

"Well this one just won't do. Too soft."

Brendon bounces experimentally before sitting up.

"Come Bob Bryar, let us embark on our epic quest!"

He points dramatically towards the next mattress. Bob has never actually seen anyone leap anywhere, but leap Brendon does. Past a very bemused pair of lesbians, to another mattress which looks the same as the first but which the sign assures them is the firmest in the range.

He flings himself down on to it with a sigh and grins up at Bob with his hands crossed over his stomach. There's something about him that requires  words like fling and leap and grin, something big and alive that makes Bob happy just to be near it. He grins back and lies down next to Brendon without having to be asked. It really is very firm, and very comfortable. He turns his head and keeps grinning, and yes, they are lying on a mattress together in Ikea grinning like idiots. Bob is completely happy with that.

The lesbians are giggling, but that's okay too.

By the time they reunite with the others, Bob has managed to buy all his furniture, and Patrick has found some vaguely acceptable lamps. Gerard and Ray have managed to actually get everyone a hot dog. It may in fact be the most successful Ikea trip in Bob's memory. No-one has argued or cried or gotten lost. Brendon is clearly a magical force for good. Bob's back, for one, will thank him.

While they're in the checkout queue, Brendon leans in to him ever so slightly. It's one of those leans that could mean 'hey yes I like you be my bf' or 'I am tired and you are tall'.  Bob takes the chance it’s the first and leans back a little, enough to take the weight. He rests his head on Brendon's shoulder a little. Gerard, who is holding about forty light bulbs and a small venus flytrap, is smiling a little smile of victory.




Of course though, they still have to actually put all the shit Bob bought together.

So Patrick calls in Joe and Andy, which automatically also summons Pete. Then Jon and Spencer show up with Greta. Ryan and Mikey both develop plans instantly the moment physical labour is involved so they're present only through texts such as 'make sure Brendon sweats' and 'please god don't let Gerard anywhere near a hammer'. Ryan had had a bad experience involving Gerard and DIY which involved 'fixing holes in my walls OH MY GOD'.

They eat noodles and hammer shit and carry Bob's new mattress up four flights of stairs. Brendon and Spencer have a 'manly man' contest, where they both act ridiculously macho while carrying exceptionally small objects and flexing practically non-existent biceps. By the time they're all done, Bob's face just hurts from smiling so fucking much. He feels like he's come home, like, these are his fucking people right here. Who love him and carry crap for him and generally make doing this fun. He'd been so afraid that he would come home and this would have changed. Like maybe they would be different in some way that would make them, fuck, not be his friends anymore. And fuck if he doesn't know that he should have treated them better while he was in Chicago. Fuck if he shouldn't have driven out for Frankie's birthday and Gerard's art shows and Ray's home-made lasagne.

But he's here now, and there are smiling, happy people in his home.

"Hey you."

It's Brendon, with a hand on his arm.

"You looked kind of deep in thought there."

"Just thinking about being happy."

"Just thinking about it or actually being it?"

Bob allows himself a pause to actually think about that. Brendon is patient, and his hand stays on Bob's arm.

"Actually being happy. Thinking about being home."

"Cool. I'm glad you came back, if only for selfish reasons."

"I'm glad I came back."

Brendon tilts his head up and kisses him lightly.

"Listen, me and Spence promised to go with Ryan to this book signing thing that starts really fucking early tomorrow, so we have to go. But are you free tomorrow? I was thinking we could have that second date."

"No I uh, have to work. Friday?"

"Friday it is. Enjoy your mattress." His voice is lower on the last words, and his eyes linger.

Bob thinks I'd enjoy it more if you were with me but just nods. There's always Friday after all.

Moving Onward, with a definite slant up


If asked, Bob will definitely complain about work. The bands that play the Electro are usually just starting out and as such often they are awful enough to hurt him to his very soul. But Martin pays good wages and its great experience, so Bob just sucks up the crap and takes his paycheck.

Tonight, however, it's Pencey Prep rocking out in the Electro, and Bob couldn't be happier. Frank is on stage, spitting and snarling and generally being an amazing little fucked-up brat and Patrick is filling in the drummer spot temporarily. Which means that Gerard and Pete are out in the crowd somewhere, and if that isn't Ray Toro's afro he will eat Mikey's sweaty socks. Tomorrow he has a date with Brendon Urie, whom he is pretty sure is up for trying out that new mattress he braved Ikea for.

He turns up the volume and grins as Frank dives into the crowd.

His phone buzzes at lunch.

pick u up @ 7 bring ur eyepatch. Bden xoxo

Brendon listens to Liz Phair. As Bob limbs in Brendon's shitty pea green Beatle, he recognises the sounds of 'Exile in Guyville'. Brendon is, indeed, humming '6"1".

"This place is a way out on the highway a little? But totally worth it. We took Ryan there last year for his birthday. I thought he was going to kill us."

"Why?"

"Hates his birthday. Hates it. He's a freak, but whatever."

"What did you do your last birthday?"

"We went into New York to see Avenue Q. Also Gerard and I went to the MOMA, during the day. What about you?"

"Uh, I was in the middle of breaking up on my last birthday. Mostly we yelled. But there was cake."  He can't quite look at Brendon as he says it - the highway becomes all of a sudden interesting.

"For your next birthday we'll all do something cool. Maybe we could have penguins involved somehow."

"Penguins are indeed cool, but I just want a barbecue or something. Kinda like old times."

Bob looks over then, and Brendon is frowning thoughtfully at the road.

"You okay?"

"Oh yeah, just concentrating. The turnoff is kinda annoying." He seems to shake whatever it was off and smiles again.

"Here we are, Bob Bryar, I hope you brought the eyepatch like I said."

He points, and Bob is confronted with a very large fake pirate ship. On a fake Island, surrounded by a fake lake. The first hole is a very large treasure map.

When he's finished gaping, he turns around to find that Brendon is in fact wearing an eyepatch.

And he brought a spare, just in case.


Bob may actually be having the most fun he's ever had with another human being.

They're walking around playing mini-golf really, really badly, and talking in terrible pirate accents.

"Ooo arr me matey, ye missed!"  Brendon manages to convince an employee to let him borrow a plush parrot, which he proceeds to have conversations with regarding Bob's bad golfing. He's named it Spencer, and declares it an exceptionally bitchy parrot.

Bob laughs so hard he completely misses the target, and loses by 30. Brendon, at 23, wins.

"Hah! I totally won. Just call me the Pirate King."

Bob rolls his eyes, but grins.

"How will I ever top this for our next date?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something. But this date isn't over yet! I'm starving."

They drive back to the strains of Emmylou Harris singing about longing for somebody's kiss. Bob can kind of relate at this point.  By the time they get to Asylum, Bob has a mental list of music to share with Brendon. Alison Krauss and Robert Plant,  Dave Carter and Tracey Grammer. Frankie always calls it 'the softer side' of his music collection. The softer side of Frankie's music collection involves Def Leppard. Bob is sometimes embarrassed to know him.

As the car engine quiets, Bob fantasises briefly about parking with Brendon, putting Hem on the CD player and making out like sixteen year olds.  But they promised that they'd show tonight, and both of them are suckers for their friends. 

Brendon is smiling gently, looking into the Asylum window. He shakes his head and his smile widens.

"You ready to go in and face the music?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He's smiling back.


[identity profile] kineticbynight.livejournal.com 2009-03-08 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Wow, I had never before considered this pairing, but I am definitely loving it thus far. Update soon! <3

[identity profile] astoryandasong.livejournal.com 2009-03-09 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
My entire thought process about the pairing was:
You know who I like? Bob Bryar and Brendon Urie.
Mmmmm.
I KNOW I WILL WRITE A STORY, HAHAHA