Title: Fair Game
Author:
harleen313
Beta:
p_will \u0026lt;3 pairings / characters:
Jonden \\ O /
Raiting: NC17 ...?
Warnings: slash , lemon Word Count: 6699. I swear, no joke. Count them if you do not believe. > _>
Disclaimer: Pete asked me to write and paid me handsomely. are not mine, never happened, Nonono, I swear, we do not gain anything.
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Notes: E 'mileage, you idiot, and write it was a delivery. It was founded by prompt faechan
Brendon / Jon, "I love you" "Eh?" "In the band, I mean" XD And the whole thing is always fair game on his X3 Summary: There were few certainties in the crazy world of Pete Wentz, Patrick would never be taken away from his head a bloody hat of his own free will, never doubt the Cobra in the presence of Gabe and Jon Walker was not fair game. Everything was in explaining what he meant to Brendon 'fair game' and what it meant.
the beginning, there was serious thought. He had always taken as established fact that boys liked girls and vice versa. Or at least, for the most part. Not that it was a narrow-minded ignoramus who considered homosexuals an abomination against nature or invented by the media to sell more. It merely have become aware over the years - and, well, his roommate that one day he planted his tongue in my mouth helped him greatly - and consider the whole thing as a quiet and strange. In short, the idea of being in bed with another male did not go into raptures. Especially do not, well, certainly not his roommate. He was short, bandy-legged and very little sex appeal. Nothing that inspire thoughts of some kind. Then there was the music. And with that, well, everything began to spin around. Everything, every detail, was to speed twice the normal world. They met people who said they were within hours of your best friends - and it was so, it was really
well - or sometimes you know your soul mate, which of course you engaged and get married in a few weeks. He has met two or three of his kindred spirits. But he has not married, not considered a wise move bond for life with a girl who knew only three days. And then, after the music, Pete Wentz arrived. And in that moment when Pete shook his hand and smiled politely, he could hear the scratch
the world stops. And then, oh, he felt the world continue running. Just the opposite. With Pete turned around to the opposite direction, I mean, was someone who did not fit to normal. He forced her to adapt to the normal standard. And its standard as a minimum, consisting of two boys who rub him on the stage.
is Pete has used the term - have understood perfectly. And then, quite simply, the pole was worried personally explain to his fellow band or anything that 'hey, no, he is fair game'. Finally, after Pete, after the pole - William, to be precise - and after all the others, they have arrived. Four little kids struggling with their first tour, a guitarist who resembles a chick is so skinny and frightened, a drummer asshole more than one woman in the middle of premenstrual syndrome - but when it is quiet and pleasant stay near him, like him - a bass player is from the stain and leave the other in times less appropriate - is already the fourth concert to take his place, slutty cow. Brent does not know this, but he already knows he will have to take punches on the nose because it deserves them all - and the singer, who is excited and a little thing and Jon caffeinomane seriously suspect that his is a disease that has never seen a kid with so much energy in the body and no, not fixed with him. It 's just who is charismatic, okay? And 'normal fix it during the concerts. Normal. Perfectly normal. It 's a little thing charismatic here. "Jon! Jonjonjonjon!" this little thing runs towards him, clapping their hands to each 'Jon' and drown before stopping a few millimeters and smash the nose. "Brendon," greeted him amicably, making some scratch card for the neck appease him before, by dint of not jump landing on one foot, "why here?" subtext:
what you want from my life? Why this unexpected pain in the ass? "Ryan is mean to me." The shoulders of the singer and her head is noticeably lower in clear-dog pose and poorly fed. "Um .... And I got to do what?" "Rescue me, JonWalker!" Brendon howling heartfelt tone, buttarglisi before him and seek shelter in the evils of the world in the arms of the poor man. Now. Jon is not used to be called by name and surname, is something that the teachers were in high school or his mother, when they had to call to order something indescribably wrong he had done. It is not that evokes pleasant memories. "Uh-Brendon, why do you call me for last name?" Brendon lifts his head out of his shoulder and looks at him with vacant eyes, without really understanding. "Because it sounds better, no?" "... If you say so," mumbled annoyed, reaching some pat on the shoulder to comfort him, "Well, what made you Ryan?" "I threat! And I hid the Red Bull!"
Oh my God, then the trick was actually for a lot of junk hyperactivity.
"... And you can not buy more?" proposes a vague air, without actually seeing the problem. "Ryan I also seized the money." Confess, before pulling up his nose in a rather noisy. Jon looks at him with a raised eyebrow, while a remote party sends him in rapid succession the following messages: 1) Have you hugged
. Why have you embraced?
2) WIIIIH!
"If they want to offer you a couple ..." try, shrugging his shoulders. Immediately after a pair of hands behind the harpoons and hears something and almost drown him fall - yes, that Brendon was up in arms.
"Oh, JonWalker, you're my hero!" flung the boy - boy, to be precise - before falling off and head to the bar in trotting step. Jon watches him leave and smiles without actually realizing it.
It only becomes aware when he hears the facial muscles make him a bit 'wrong. About ten minutes later. After a while, 'Jon realizes it - more precisely, slamming the news in the face as if it were a matter of course. E 'after their seventh gig, when they get off stage and Brendon waits patiently backstage despite being the first to go - no tools to release and store, thank you. She looks at him, smiles slightly embarrassed and mumbles, "Uh, good concert. You are-you are good to play."
And even before Jon could only think to respond, he walks briskly without looking back, shaking her head from time to time. Ryan joins him and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Dude," he says, looking at Jon with a half smile, "I've never seen him so interested in someone." "What?" asked in a choked voice, getting barely a shrug. "We're trying? With me?
"
Ryan nods. "A lot, I guess." She adds, before leaving, leaving Jon alone to fix the undefined cosmic nothing in front of him. Not that
never thought of that, every so often. It 's a bit slow in these things, okay, but when a person begins to buzz around day and night asking for cuddles, hugs and scratch card he begins to have some vague suspicion in this regard. Hear directly from Ryan, however, has made a other effect. Because if
whereas before he thought, 'hey, maybe Brendon tries with me' and immediately afterwards gave dell'idiota alone for various reasons, including one on all that Brendon is a male, now that it is certain his brain sends them information 'look what we're trying Brendon
with you' and immediately after his stomach is knotted, then twist
only in the presence of this boy.
It 's weird. Nothing to worry about or anything. Solo,
strange.
Then of course it all starts to degenerate and the fact that the world turn twice as fast does not help. Jon distinctly heard him, the swirl of events. He sees things that are followed, Brent spring - or is removed, he can not - and he now replaces it without even need to confirm any agreement, since it is simply obvious, you see that Brendon is always close and it pleases them, and then sees the tour finish and fears, fear very much that they will find another bass player, because he is temporary, right? Then his cell phone rings, as rarely happens since returning to Chicago, and Brendon. Jon does a couple of nods to his friends, and leaves the room to be able to feel something. "Hey," he mutters, shivering a bit 'to the cold, "how are you?"
"I annoooooio." Brendon petulant screaming voice, making him smile. "You what you are doing, JonWalker? "
" I-uh, no big deal. You know, I'm bored too. "Balla! Gigantic, indescribable dance!
... It 's just do not feel Brendon for a few weeks and he's never an excuse good enough to call him and then he does not mind to hear it, okay? can hear a laugh, on the other side of the phone. "Come on, and I thought I was at a party." Now the voice is not on the other side of the phone. And 'behind him.
Jon turns and swallows a vacuum and is still held to your ear. Fixed with eyes wide Brendon, and the only thing I can say is "You? Here? Why?, Which is not exactly the apotheosis of intelligence, but still its raison d'etre. Brendon chuckles. "I wanted to tell you something. You know, about us." "Oh. What?"
subtext:
Who or what would 'we'? The singer clears his throat, takes a little 'time and puffing a bit', visibly nervous. "I want you."
Jon loses ten years. "Eh?" hysterical voice calls, instinctively pulling back a couple of steps, giving himself just after the jerk and reclaim the space lost to a jump.
"In the band, I mean."
"... Oh."
"So?"
"Uh, yes. Yes, of course, gladly." Jon tries. We really try to smile, but he fails. As something that blocks it has a strange way somewhere between anger, joy and frustration. Do not be disappointed, no, because ultimately this was what he wanted, right? Join the band.
Those guys are the funny. "Good." Comment Brendon, staring at his feet and trying hard to hide a grin. "Good." Jon choir ago, before cashing out slightly and then motioned to the boy enter the room, that his friends will be reported missing and is a really cool Executioner out.
Of course, friends are great as JonWalker JonWalker. They are all very nice and extremely available and they offered a lot to drink. Brendon feels to love them all. And he also notes, a selected number of times, draped over the back of a different friend each time declaring his affection for the whole world.
"Brendon, what did you drink?" Jon looks worried, and Brendon laughs in his face.
"Poor!" exclaims, and it is sadly true. Only four drinks. One made with vodka, a rum-based, based on a whiskey and a glass of absinthe. A similar dose of stuff would undermine a horse, think Jon's when Brendon is draped on him and makes a dry eardrum screaming audience that loves them all, tuuuutti, from top to bottom including JonWalker.
The evening inevitably ends when Brendon was caught by sudden nausea and sling in the bathroom, but wrong door and ends up throwing up the soul in a corner of the closet. Jon picks it up, trembling, pale, his forehead beaded with sweat and the corners of his eyes wet with tears, and pulls him out of the weight room, asking all the insults that he remembers the moment. Getting home does not reveal a problem, except that Brendon is an octopus with many arms as if they could wait for Jon does not miss a minute for clipping. Even while driving, even while risking a front against a lamp post before and then a tree. Out of the car either, because Jon is limited to slip out and Brendon, appolipato still on his arm, followed him obediently. The problems come in the elevator. arrive in the elevator because Jon pressed the button - the penultimate - And after putting a foot wrong Brendon's shoulder crashed into the roadside, with the result that
all the buttons are pressed and they must make a stop at every floor. And then arrive at the door of the house, because Brendon has not abandoned its ambitions to octopus and continues to make the climb in the back of the poor bass player, preventing him very well to open because - duh - the key falls to the ground so many times that after a while 'Jon opens the door to be seated and crawl inside to sit, imitated by Brendon.
Brendon is not reduced so bad they can not walk alone as it would have us believe. E 'scene more than anything else. The
stupidera instead, oh, that's genuine.
"JonWalker, Jon ..." calls it a matter of urgency, "first-first lied, 'kay? Is not the band, not the band-"
It is not normal to feel something Jon beat wildly at the throat. It is almost certain. "What?" Dares to ask, being pulled down by the wrist on the couch, to keep company with Brendon.
"I do not ..." he stops, sitting up with a flash and climbing up
Jon. Astride. Literally. "I was not talking of the band. I do not want the band-that is, yes, we want you all right, but before I was saying I wanted more
. I want you, period." Jon
watching him in awe and coughs away all the oxygen in the lungs and that has probably even a few years of life. Brendon leans over him - on his mouth. His mouth still open
- and kisses him.
... To be exact, meaning a kiss as two pairs of lips that rely on each other, even kissing. E 'Brendon licks that language. Jon can not even find a single thing to say, so you simply get up knocking him to sit on the floor and strode away. Brendon is lying on the floor, finding a pleasant cool tile against my cheek, closed her eyes and begins to curse. Why did I fuck up everything, because he is an idiot, because he's drunk at the home of Jon because Jon is heterosexual, and he is really pathetic-why ... why Jon is watching him from holding a bottle of dubious origin?
"Cos-"
"Drink." She tells him, helping him to his feet and putting his hands above the bottle. Brendon look at the green liquid with a raised eyebrow, the smells and is having a really good scent.
"More alcohol! Wii JonWalker!" Berco, taking a sip overly generous than that after a short absence but identified not as much as
mouthwash. Burning to death, plus. "But co-"
"It stinks of vomit." Jon is justified with the same inscrutable expression as before, leaning toward him until he dominates with his hands propped on the sides the sofa and kissing him. This time it's a real kiss, with lots of lips and the scent of mint and the hands of Brendon that travel slowly back and Jon holding it to be his after the sides collapsed on him with little grace. "It could be," begins with a hint of trouble due to all that apnea, "it could be that I like. Like, a lot."
Brendon kisses him, her lips stretched into a smile, and then moves the pelvis up a few times and Jon is pretty sure that tomorrow will receive complaints about the whole mess they are doing. "Wait," he says after a while ', being able to dominate a bit' of calm, "go-christ-\u0026lt;/ i> go in the room." Brendon is not his own opinion, why does not pretend to have heard beautifully and continues to move against him and, okay, maybe you could even listen to him, no? After all, the sofa is not so uncomfortable.
... Except that they can not move because then roll on the floor and the floor is cold
.
Definitely, bedroom.
"Brendon, christ, go to your room." Mumbles with a little 'conviction in more than before.
To go in the room takes an indefinite amount of time, because it is not so much to set up Brendon - Jon was enough to get up, the rest came from him - as to reach the bed. And around the house while Brendon does things with his mouth on that Jon is not much easier, so here. Now he has a suspicion as to know how it is done perfectly every corner of the house, because he has beaten everyone on a more or less delicate part of the body.
They reach the room after a few failed attempts, after Jon finally decided that no, Brendon, you can not do certain things while we are moving
is the case that you limit yourself to follow me. Bassist opens the door and immediately after pulling the boy and kisses him. Brendon kiss proves it easier and more exciting that Jon has ever done. It 's easy because there is Brendon
, always has been, except that Jon has not really ever noticed. It 'exciting because ... Well, because it's Brendon. Jon finds no explanation in point. And 'at that moment and Brendon are roughly on a bed naked, he's hanging over and kisses him and he started to move her hips and Jon can hear him trembling and repeat his name - his name alone, this time, no last name - first moaning last time and be followed shortly after by Jon. Brendon looks at him with a sleepy smile and happy - and remember a damn cat -, rubbing her cheek against his face as he did so often on tour and asks, her voice slurred with sleep already, "It 's a problem if I sleep here? " Jon smiles and says no, removing the covers to make room for him - will clean up tomorrow, just do not want to think now that Brendon has a sleepy beds. Has the suspicion that all the alcohol that the singer has greatly aid the body in its status as a sleepy, but prefers not to ask. Then the breath of Brendon the cradle a bit ', and only takes a few minutes of peace before he falls asleep.
When Jon and Brendon opened his eyes - almost in sync - spent several moments to settle astonished.
"Hey," Jon starts with a hint of a smile, now blocked by Brendon.
"I beat the piss." The singer rolls out from under the covers, and is on all fours on the floor, gets up and walks unsteadily to the bathroom.
Jon thinks for a bit ', before shaking his head slightly and stand up in turn, a smug idiot who does not want to go far. When passing in front of the bathroom door, only to knock and ask "Coffee?" aloud, getting a grunt in response that supposed to be a yes.
Entry of Brendon in the kitchen, it's something priceless. Walk with your head stuck to the wall, rubbing his head and tousled hair, her eyes closed and mouth half-open. It takes place jumping with a crash on the first chair that comes to hand, from the opposite side of the cup on the table that Jon has the port. " Ddddddio ," moans, "I'm dying. I will die. Swear that the next time you want to drink so much I swell of punches." Jon sitting in front of the and smiles. For the umpteenth time. It 's just that Brendon puts the buon'umore. "Promise." Reassures him, blocking the impulse to stick out his hand and tousled hair more than they already have devastated them.
"-What I've done horrible things yesterday. I feel it in the cosmic order." Jon shrugs his shoulders slightly, leaning her chin on her hand, "Not too much. You just threw up in a closet." "Ohccristo." Mumbles, as he takes to test the table, "I am a horrible person."
"No, you're not." Jon comforts him mechanically, with a half smile of compassion. "I ruined the evening." This time, the answer takes a little 'more to come. "... No, you did not. "And unfortunately Brendon keeps her eyes down, otherwise could clearly see a JonWalker embarrassed, and not a show that is repeated so often.
" I-I did embarrassing things? "
Jon thinks for a few second, chuckling ruefully, "I exaggerated."
"... Christ, not-I have not tried, like, someone's girlfriend, right?" "No, I figured, either-" "Or-oh God, JonWalker, tell me that I have not tried with the girl you like. Please tell me I did not do such a thing. "
At that time, Jon realized. E 'immediate awareness, which goes hand in hand with his heart begins to fail a few beats, and the sudden chill that feels a little 'everywhere. "You ... can not remember what happened yesterday?"
Brendon looks up at last and looks almost annoyed by the question. "If I'm asking you to detail means no, do not you think? I have a hole in the third round of drinks on."
"... Oh." Jon says, pale as a sheet. "Well, it so happens that I go, I think. I must warn Ryan and Spencer to accept - because you have accepted, is not it? - And to get plane ticket to go home." Brendon quietly announced, jumping up with renewed energy and walked to the living room, looking for his clothes. The landlord does not say anything. You simply wait until the door closes permanently and rests his forehead on the table with half-closed eyes and a desperate need to get back to sleep and then wake up and realize that maybe it was all a horrible nightmare.
Brendon can not remember what happened in the least, and would not be much of a problem refresh his memory if he had not started talking constantly of his fears about hitting on girls
.
And the ridiculous thing is that he lied to Brendon, and Jon was not even aware of its forcibly cheerful tone. The truth? Brendon has a lousy memory as it leaves the people to believe. The phenomenal thing is that your body sends large amounts of alcohol in the control circuit, okay, but however, always manages to remember every detail. fail to prevent shit to do, at the time, but if all the recalls.
And the problem is, Jon is not fair game, to quote William. Everyone knows, Jon is straight, and then there's trying to avoid him. Brendon
The only explanation I can find the evening's events, is that Jon was drunk. E-Well, it probably also has mistaken for a girl, as far as I know. It is not very flattering to think about, but it is the reality.
Jon was drunk and he's probably
not remember or want to cancel the night anyway. So, Brendon should only be limited to avoid the life-long speech during.
will not be difficult.
should just go back home as soon as possible and stay away from Jon.
The problem of evidence with a bass player in Chicago, which is to be planned with a days notice, in order to find that bass player a place to sleep in one of the houses of the other three group members. So far, went to spin, of course. First it was Spencer's turn, then to Ryan ... and then again Spencer.
Because, as everyone knows, Brendon has relatives who can not wait for Mormons buon'occhio strangers.
And no matter if it's a colossal dancing to Jon's okay.
"Brendon, it's your turn next week." Spencer announces calmly, sipping his coffee as usual. Brendon you send the coffee up my nose burns and
.
"What!" screaming, "No, I can not, you know it! My mother-"
"Your mother has already said there is no problem." Ryan adds quickly, the phone still in hand.
Brendon feels so tragically into a corner, which is sadly forced to mutter, "Jon will never accept." What is the truth, right? Jon will never accept, period.
Indeed, Jon does not accept. He says he is not a problem, which will go into a hotel once, even if they can afford, in short, is not a pauper. Brendon merely listen to the call Hands-free, insists that Spencer feels a bit 'on his part, and then nothing, Jon claims to have said its last word on this and hangs up. The singer does not know whether to feel relieved o. Well, more.
When Jon arrives at the hotel called the others and they will agree to see each other somewhere because, well, Jon has just arrived, will also be entitled to a night of rest?
rest of the evening turns out to be the most massive hangover from the life of Spencer and Ryan. Jon does not drink much, and still has the same alcohol strength of certain traps Irish, so not a big deal to hold off the two idiots, even with several glasses of vodka in the body. When finally able to close the demented inside the car - with dancers in tow, for when Ryan continued to scream that would have been able to adopt a
adorable - waiting scarrozza way home, he realizes a small detail.
Brendon.
"People," calls them, with no success, "drunkards!" try, "
Cretinomani!
" howling at last, and Spencer is that Ryan will turn toward him, laughing like madmen. "Brendon?" he asks. Spencer snorts. "Are you Brendon-centric, JonWalker." "Shut up and tell me where."
"Inside, I guess," Ryan mutters, digging her head with a comfortable niche between the arm and chest of Spencer. Gurgles something with a satisfied air, and then finally falls asleep, followed soon after by drummer, gently resting on his head.
Jon lets loose, close outside the car and back into the room looking for the singer.
Indeed, it is sitting at a table with a can of Red Bull in hand with intent to look around looking bored. "JonWalker!" exclaims, feigning a grin.
"JonWalker a horn, damn idiot. May I ask where was he? I was looking for, it is to go home."
A moment later, Jon can distinctly see Brendon change color connotations and take seriously, seriously
scary. E 'unnatural that a boy smaller than you, and much thinner than you more delicate than you tremble.
"I'll be back on my own." He growls, overlooking the fatigue of the local music and trying to concentrate on anything else, except the bass player. In that sentence, moreover, in the mind of the aforementioned bass begin to follow a sequence of images that provide more or less gruesome Brendon in a dark alley at the mercy of beefy convicts armed with knives named Hector
or
Quentin
, or - "We hope not, you idiot. Come on, I'll take you."
"The phrase 'get a lift' does not seem difficult to understand." Brendon syllable to be heard clearly, and, duh, again a very bad image, this time related to abuse of alcohol by the little cretin with which it is to have to do. "Yes, of course, at a minimum will reduce as last time." Jon feels like a kid before. An overgrown kid and infinitely capricious. Basically this is why he can not avoid shaking the wrist and pull him away from the counter. That, and also because the idea that ends up in bed with someone else Brendon simply because prey of delirium does not like alcohol. Not even thinking about it by accident. "Oh, fuck! What do you know about me as I reduce?"
... If it were in his power, Brendon erase the phrase you just said. Theoretically
? Theoretically, the most brilliant I've ever said in his life, because he still had a black out, no? He does not remember anything. Do not be ashamed of anything. E 'Jon, if anything, having to explain several things, since it took advantage of a drunk kid who has a limited no-kiss, to lick
. Not embarrassing in parts. In the mouth. What is still
embarrassing, but given the context
-oh, nasty cow, out, brain off!
This is not the case, thinking about it. The idea was good in theory but in practice proves to be a colossal crap as usual. Jon
fact prefer not to respond in kind, because right now the only answer that is not verbal and provides a fist, the nose of Brendon and bloodshed. "Move." Growled, continuing to drag a weight around until the other, from the small eel sguisciante that is, unable to free himself from the grip of the bass player and after many steps.
"I asked you a question." Mumbles against and rubs his wrist with the other hand, come on, really, is self-defeating to continue to press the case.
Bassist looks around nervously, then stares into his eyes and Brendon feels one step away from the bone come very slowly and carefully to the bone youngsters who could escape a little careful analysis. "Brendon," begins with a soothing tone that had never heard before, counting fingers as they list, "I saw you while you vomit on your feet in a closet that I thought was a bathroom, I had to take off weight because otherwise you would have still been drinking alcohol and you'd go into a coma, then I had to drag my home weight and then - oh, my favorite part - you spent the night throwing up to keep me awake every few minutes, forcing me to stay in the bathroom to hold your face and die of fear
basic idea that the same seriously risking their lives to having to drag in the room to be able to monitor. There are things that I wish normal people " Brendon could say many things. Jon could insult and turn your back permanently, at least for the evening, could simply sulking and not speak to him for days, is good at these things could explain that the story of bullshit committed under influence of alcohol shall not be liable del'autore humiliation of the latter, but should only be explanation at the end, to give a reason for any bruises or marks or tattoos. What you should not do is beat one foot in the ground like idiotissima drama queen who occasionally manages to be and screaming "What a filthy liar!" ... He did not do it, right? It did not happen. It did not happen, as it is not true that Jon has widened his eyes and is pale and has blown away an unbeliever "... Eh?" that although the casino has heard loud and clear.
"You ..." begins slowly, trying to make it look like its a howl more ghostly than a feeble attempt to buy time. "You ..." repeats, while looking around for ideas. Obviously, and rightly so, finds nothing to say, and then, okay, it will empty the bag. "You lied."
The other comes close a few steps, with a black face and staring really disturbing. "What do you know?" Jon should not be so discerning. There should be laws that prevent him from using his amazing super power to turn against the shit that Brendon made.
"I-" swallow load while instinctively steps back up to beat back against a wall and then
oh shit, is really in trouble. "Let's say I ...
rebuilt. Vaguely. I got an idea of the evening. I could. Approx. Maybe. Type-remember something." "Brendon, I'm gonna ask a simple question to which claim a linear response and string. You
remember what happened?"
Jon has a certain talent nell'incombere on people. "I-" " Brendon." ... He also has a certain talent to terrorize. "Yes." Brendon thinks about it, and then opens her eyes, "No. I mean, yes, but no." No, I meant-ie, I-no, but a little 'yes, but it is cloudy! And, oh, it's black! And confusing! E-oh God please do not kill me I'm too young tipregotipregotiprego not kill me. "
What I feel after, nonsisacome accomplice who ended up in a little soundproof room that supposed to be the wardrobe, it's just Jon's breathing against his ear. And it is exhausting, having to force slow and almost calm, and then Brendon heard him growl. ...
Escape. "
We do not even think about a tenth of a second. How do you see a path moving away Jon opened the door on the left, he begins to run because he knows he is risking very much
. And then is heard to grasp the shoulder - because clearly one of the super powers of Jon also include super-speed - such as turning and Ahio, death is imminent. "I'll strangle. I swear to god, you choke." Jon announces beautiful calm, holding up his hand to his neck. "You told me-" "I had told you I would run away." Points out the bass player, while pushing with little grace, making him retreat. "Jon ..." begins with a plaintive tone, trying to do puppy's eyes, " Please do not kill me, hurt and I do not want to hurt, I beg, I beg you, beg you, spare me."
"Why?"
"For ... for ... it's illegal?"
"Not because I should not kill you, you idiot, why did you put up the whole scene." Brendon
back seriously for a moment, unable to look higher of her shoes. "William," spits out the end, "we-told us that there was nothing to try it with you because you do not," "And let me understand," the block Jon, before saying something terribly stupid, "you 've decided individually for both ...? " "Roughly, yes, but you are making it sound like something terribly wrong."
"... is not it?"
"No. I do not think. I mean. You are straight and all, as far as I know I should not,"
"Idiot." Jon pushes him again, leaning with both hands on the shoulders of the singer, just steps away from the wall.
"Guh?"
"Idiot," push, "idiot" push, " idiot." wall.
"But why-" What follows is a bit 'confused. It's-Brendon sure it is roughly of Jon's hands on her hips that shake for a moment the power to hurt and almost always the bass player then, with a smile hysterical, began to gesticulate like a man possessed. "I do not seem to have given rise to great misunderstanding, when I
explicitly said that I like. I do not think he used puns cryptic and incomprehensible. I used them? Tell me, Brendon, I have a desperate physical need he told you he was in some way unknown to me incomprehensible, when I said that I have. me. like you. "
" Eh? "blows, completely bewildered, the poor guy. " Tu-damned idiot. I told you I like you, who are seeing it from the point of view of William,
fair game, at least for you! I know what cazzominchia seized in your head to make you understand the exact opposite
damned? "" But-"no, no, Nonono, things were not going well. Brendon can not manage a thing. It is not psychologically ready. ... You were drunk ... "mumbles half-heartedly.
" I was sober! "exclaimed the other, visibly stung." You were drunk to do that crap! " followed by moments of silence, during which the mouth Brendon takes a strange shape to 'or' capital and of gigantic size. "Eh?" is the second time I asked, but surely this time, it is both. "I was sober, stupid."
"But you bevevi! I saw you!"
"... A beer."
Oh, right, Jon is holding alcohol. Brendon has to stop hanging out with Ryan, after getting used to things like the utter inability to hold any type of alcohol in any shape, color, and dosage. "... I understand." "Do you understand?" The singer nods quietly. "I understand," he repeats, without really understand why so nervous ill suppressed.
"Do you understand?
And enough?
"
"I do not know, what else should I say? 'Oh, Jon, I'm so glad you found gay, now move to bring Ryan and Spencer home so we can be alone and rape each other!'?"
The other thinks about it, before he lost the first smile of the evening. "Nothing too elaborate for now. Only, what you said last time ...?" Brendon traffic light turns red. "I was drunk! Inhibitions I had the fuck up! You can not expect to repeat what I said from sober to drunk! It 's a coward!" scarf, waving a hand in the air for emphasis in speech, in a desperate attempt to ignore Jon, his crooked smile and damn the rest. Jon laughs and shakes his head, resigned in front of Brendon inability to carry on conversations with a semblance of logic. "Come on," he says, tugging at his shoulder, "Ryan and Spencer have to take back home."
"And then?"
"Then ...?"
Brendon looks at him with a smirk. "Then I can rape, no?" calls, clapping her hands gleefully, pleased with the sentence just said, half shocked gaze of Jon, his cheeks pink
curiously.
"You-oh, shut up and walk." - When they start dating with a minimum of science more, instead of the dear, old, usually infrattarsi wherever there is sufficient space and darkness, things get awkward and ridiculous beyond description. Jon does not know how to deal with physically because Brendon Brendon
is not a girl, does not know whether to take his hand or simply surround the shoulder with one arm to offend him or make him believe in what way it considers a sort of female botched. "Hey," called him once, because it obviously does not know if dovergli tie some nickname or nickname and the full name seems too far away, "you feel ... How about if we chat?" tries. Brendon, without understanding much, merely to accept, sits next to Jon and watching him with a quiet smile. "Okay." It just says, trying encouraged to play.
"So. It could be," begins, and then you lose once in the speech, "... God, it's hard. Then, and two. I-"
The singer bends his head to one side, resembling a dangerously stoned owl, " Jon, there are things you should know about? " asks gravely. "No, it's just that-here-I do not know how to behave." The younger of the two opens and closes his eyes a few times, looking more and more a small owl. "In what way?" "Brendon," Jon begins with making very practical, "you are a male." "Well, thank you, as I suspect, I've dispelled many doubts."
'Go to hell and let me finish the point. I was saying. You are a male. And so are you. "
" ... If you're trying to make me understand something, and with 'something' but I would not wish to talk delicate
anything, know that you're failing miserably. "
" It 's just do not know how behave. And 'idiot, but it is. It's not that you do not know, make me a list of things to do or not do? "
pass moments of silence, during which Brendon straightens the little head and fold the other side, plus some suspicion by coming to Jon about the ability of the singer's head to rotate three hundred sixty degrees. ... Let me see if I get it. You want that now you listed point by point how to behave? "Jon
nods desperately, "Please, yes. Something like that."
"You did so well with the girls who attended?"
"No, but-"
"And you can not just act like your usual?" "Dunno, I think so." "Good!" Brendon exclaimed, jumping up and holding out a hand to Jon, "Ice cream?" proposes, entranced by the idea.
Jon nods, going by his side. "... Wait," he says after a while, 'stuck in the middle of the road and blocking plus Brendon also because they are holding hands, "this means that I do
things like giving flowers and remember dates of every kind and type or I do not speak to me for days? "
Brendon snorts, halfway between amusement and exasperation. "No, idiot. It means that I do not want flowers because they are not
Ryan and I do not want you to remember dates of every kind. Just do not know, or at most one or two-"
"And if forgotten?" Jon provokes him, getting only a vague shrug. "beat you." Brendon thinks about it, deciding that he had spoken very sensibly too. "With the purse William, you know, the one with the rhinestones." Immediately added to compensate, noting the disappointment on the face of Jon with ill-concealed amusement. "But that hurts!" querulous complaining bassist, trying to push away the other with very little results because, here, the
hands. It 's a bit hard to take away someone you shaking so hard.
Brendon does not respond, he just smiles, and Jon thinks, okay, maybe not kill some time.
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