What To Write On Tombstone Halloween

Irritante


Title: Irritating


Author:






harleen313




Beta-reader: A lot of people XD
B, Will, girlfriends msn, f7

Characters / pairing: Andy
Hurley / Brendon Urie, Pete Wentz, Ryan Ross, Spencer Smith, Jon Walker

Rating: PG13
- make things

° O ° /!

Warnings:
idiotic rambling, swearing, people beaten.

Word Count: 5572
OMG ARE verbose / O

Disclaimer:
Are not mine, never happened, all lies. PLZ, DO NOT EVER TRANSLATE, K? _;
Prompt: "I'm disturbing?" "Damn it, yes." "Well, my work here is done." Notes: Summary: The relationship between Brendon and Andy can not be called idyllic. But even 'love / hate'. Even if you want, even closing his eyes close tight and repeat three times out loud.


Ryan personally hate having to go on pilgrimage to the offices of the Decaydance with the whole band in tow. Everything should not happen, in part as crazy as Pete, but sometimes it happens. So, armed with patience and holy bundle on his shoulder that keeps those four or five scarves of emergency, is forced to convene the entire band then head to Chicago, at a time the only semblance of seriousness that is at the house Label forgotten by God: the offices, to be precise. This is a gray tower block of about ten floors with an indefinite number of windows on the front, all covered by the usual greenish curtains you see in every office of the planet, a rotting wooden door with remnants of white paint is now worn by time, and the air more serious and professional world. The panel is anonymous, just a 'DD records' name on the top floor and a few scattered apparently the rest of the building to tenants, Ryan is always shocked by the sight. In short, it is almost like being in front of people makes sense. Then you go up the elevator, and the charm starts to horsehair to the fifth / sixth floor, when you begin to feel that only the most imaginative ways to bring it within some human. On the tenth floor, then when the doors open, you realize that just when people know what they mean words like 'professional' or 'serious' or 'decency'. The last time we went, attended a round of golf with Gabe who was a bookmaker, the referee Andy, and the two finalists - Joe and Pete - who had finished to target with the balls until they had split a glass. Then, the game was over. This time, when the elevator doors open and Brendon, Ryan, Spencer and Joe face, it does not happen anything. The absolute silence. Run along the corridor leading to the office of Pete on tiptoe, and when he opened the door, convinced that they will see the horribly mutilated body of their leader - there are other ways to justify all that quiet, really! - Are greeted by a howl.
" AUGUUUUUURI! "Trilla Pete as it leaps like a man possessed to embrace each other.
It takes several minutes of rest before Ryan is able to focus their gaze on the calendar hanging on the wall and, after a couple of accounts, you realize that in a few days will be a year since the release of Pretty Odd. "Pete, is in three days. "He points out in a whisper, a little uncomfortable. Pete smiles, like the idiot he is. "I know that I too, fool! I took the first side to be able to arrange a special party in large-sti ' "I do not feel a great need, Pete. "
" No stories. I'm your leader and I have every right to organize and bacchanalian orgies those I like. " Jon raises an eyebrow and clears his throat, to take more time for actual need. "Pete," begins slowly, trying to make eye contact with the man to see if indeed his words are heard or not, "we plan to return to Las Vegas by the evening. We have not arranged to stay here. "" So what? You'll be at my house. My guests. We reach the other, it will be a Fichissima! As a campsite! Except that in my house! " Jon Ryan and look at each other, heralding the impending disaster. The relationship between Brendon and Andy can not be called idyllic. But even 'love / hate'. Even if you want, even closing his eyes close tight and repeat three times out loud. At most, can be regarded as 'hate / hate'.
Nobody can explain it, but it is a matter of instinct: Brendon and Andy are not nice to each other. They can not address without the word more or less veiled insult, and a couple of times due them away before they sit down to take one of the other. And the worst of all, without which you will probably still be able to live with this basic incompatibility, is that they are both born of the provocateurs. There is nothing that will galvanize more furious to see their partner, while they flaunt calm and placid. Needless to say, this feature brings them humiliated whenever they are in the same living space. And the fact that they are in the same house, under the same roof with a crazy exalted - Pete - is not pleasant for anyone.
's entry into the house of Pete Brendon is little triumphant, and very quiet. He slams against the door, against a side impact with the edge and with the foot against the foot of the couch and passes them to the next ten minutes yelling curses and insults against the landlord, which insists on changing the furniture without telling anyone . "Shh! Brendon, do you plan! "Pete whispered, hurrying to close as many doors as possible. "Andy still sleeping! "Brendon's face
opens a satanic grin. "At this hour? "Politely inform you while standing up, miraculously healed from all evil. Pete nods, and Spencer just in time to roll his eyes, which sees the singer speed past in search of the bedrooms. "... God," moans discouraged before bringing a hand to cover the eyes and then to cover at least one ear. Jon can read lips, which is counting down from five, and when it came to one, the house was distinctly heard a howl. followed thuds, screams choked, laughter and then another scream. Ryan looks into his eyes, looks at Pete, dejected sigh. "I suppose Andy has woken up. "
"
Son of a bitch! "Brendon is not laughing so much that when Ryan was inadvertently mixed with her linen scarves in a washing machine, and found himself having to deal with candy pink pants and purple socks. Andy, by contrast, is bluish. The boy wipes an eye clouded with tears, pretending to be quieter than it is. "Are you touchy, it was just a joke ..."
"You know where you can put it, the joke?! "Thunders the drummer, in an attempt to lie on the other. Fortunately Brendon is lying on the floor laughing, that loom over it becomes much easier than they would if they were both standing.
The boy looks up, takes a breath, you see that it means something. "You're ridiculous. " This time, Andy is not responding. Merely raise a leg, foot to the hammer, and set how much force with the heel has the spine of the other. Pete enters the room a second before Andy could sink again on the back of Brendon, much to the relief of the latter. "What-"
"Stay out. "Growls the man standing, preventing a priori to intervene.
Ryan comes immediately after. 'Cos
-christ!
"yells the guitar player and strode across to the bedroom and rushed to push away Andy. "What the fuck you say your head? You could break something! " Andy did not retreat, nor does it appear the least affected by the words of the boy. "This is why I have not finished with him. "He explains, getting ready to pull his another kick in the back. Brendon can position themselves to belly-up just in time to block the foot of the drummer with both hands and a 'Ouff' suffocated. It takes hardly few seconds before the collision is resolved with a pinch of fact: the curse has an iron grip, and there's no way of or free hit. "Ridiculous. "It blows between his teeth, half amused and annoyed him. Ryan is still trying to give up Andy, being ignored by him handsomely, and the situation seems really ridiculous. He just woke up! ... Making a joke. A small

joke. A little joke that Andy did not understand because it is an annoying idiot who spends his nights at the computer the next day and pretend to sleep until four in the afternoon.
And no matter that it is barely noon, Brendon

knows that if it was the drummer, would be idle until four.
... And then it was a joke that he wanted to do

month, somebody had to test.
But he has done nothing wrong!
It is limited to wearing the earphones of an MP3 player. A ball. With 'My Boy Lollipop'. But it's just that Andy is a touchy bastard who is now football with all his weight on that damn foot, is not nobody's fault. Except for Andy. And 'all

blame Andy.
that Andy is now focusing on foot suspended above the sternum Brendon, leaping at times, to be able to hit him as he would like. "The mp3 player I do eat you! "Growls the drummer, jumping one last time.
would be a ridiculous scene. It would be a ridiculous scene at the end when Andy is not able to go in force with all the weight available on the chest of the other and right after Brendon gasp loudly for the world to know all her pain, it will not tip and then falls to his knees on the nose.
What follows is an interminable succession of insults, death threats, and blood.
"
Did you break your nose!
"Brendon yelled, pushing the other of rudeness and making hit a corner of the bed. "Filthy dickhead, I've split my nose! "
Andy does not respond on time. Merely observe it with a smile, you look at the clothes with mild curiosity, and after finding a stain of blood on the trousers of his pajamas is allowed to turn up their nose. " God, how disgusting. "Groans, far more interested in the condition of their clothes than to the health of others.
Shortly after arriving, and even Jon Spencer, probably attracted by the suffering of their frontman whined, and say nothing. Maybe because Ryan and Pete are the insulting enough for everyone.

'Andy, God! "Andy says nothing, merely, in his advanced martial into the kitchen, to throw a punch against a door and the deep rumble that comes convinces Pete to adjust the tone considerably. "... So. You seem normal to break the nose of a poor man just because he decided to come and wake up at noon the past? " drummer quit in the middle the corridor and okay, Pete prefers to have a roaring against a person who ignores this rather than
because one of the side effects of having glasses is that when you look over the lens to

is really, really unpleasant. "Pete, just two points: one, I have not broken the nose, with my great regret, two, Brendon did not have a tenth of what it deserves. You better tell him to abide at large does not want it reduced to a shapeless jelly. "Bassist
watching him for a moment not knowing what to replicate, and only when Andy turned around to head in the kitchen seems to find the word. "You-go, you're bigger, you're always been the brains of the group when Patrick was not there and this time there will be Patrick until tomorrow. It costs you very much to find Brendon pretend I do not say nice, but at least
neutral?
Please? "
" Yes! "
" Andy, please . I'm not asking for the moon, I'm asking you to do the mature person. "
" You can not pretend that I'm going to jump for joy! Not with this monster
around! "" I do not want this! ... You just do not know, pretend not to see him, okay? Pretend he is not present, ignore him. But does not kill, okay? "
" Pete ... "" Please.
"" ... I'll see to work on it. " Pete hugged him, except that knows a move to risk a betrayal of karate that blast off the head from the body. He also knows that Andy did not formalize it too much, so, better to avoid.

"Brendon," Spencer starts, pushing his face against the ice in a very painful way, "you know what I'll do another if you dare to shit like this? "" It was a joke! "Clashing with the nasal voice from under the pack, getting a look killer by Ryan and an elbow in the ribs by Jon. "A few bales, Bren," it takes the bassist, "you've earned the full. "
" I split my nose! "
" Not true. "Growled the guitarist, while continuing to measure the kitchen with long strides. "Brendon, I'm telling you this and the next time I'll let you engrave on the stone: do not go and break the balls to Andy. You have to be far

. " Brendon does not respond, merely nodded sadly and puffing.
When Andy enters the living room, after appropriate wake-up maneuvers - breakfast, shower, phone call to Mixon to insult good for Brendon and his family of Mormons and crazy little detour to the PC - the situation has calmed down considerably. Spencer and Jon are playing Guitar Hero, Ryan smanetta the phone, and no trace of Brendon.

Good.

Drummer sighs, crosses the room briskly and immediately goes into hiding from view the world in the one place where you can count on for moral support and physical: the kitchen. With its refrigerator. In the kitchen there Brendon. When Andy enters the room and is located opposite the aforementioned singer, nothing strange happens. She looks at him for a while without Brendon could do the same, as it is forced to keep the ice on your face, and after a few moments to think back to their own business - search for missing vegan food for the shelves.
"So "Andy starts a few minutes later, still rummaging in every corner," how are you? " Brendon shrugs, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling," Well. "Groans, vaguely impressed by the interest of the other. Drummer snaps his fingers and puffing. "Ugh .... "The other
smiles. "I do not find anything? "
" No, is that I have not done anything serious. "" Fuck. " Andy laughs, shakes his head resting on the table and having something that Brendon can not identify dips in a cabinet that does not recall having ever examined. Meanwhile, across the kitchen, the other loosens the knot that has made it to him when Pete all'impacco ice lovingly packaged, you choose the ice cube that is more angular, and then throws it against Andy. "What the fuck ...? "The drummer stands up abruptly, his head impacting against the upper edge of the shelf.
Brendon begins to laugh, but a matter of moments, before I see the situation in terms of another and remains speechless. Andy is in front of him, back, hair dripping.
dripping water, of course, but still dripping. At first did not realize that Andy's back is bare, in a first, neutral, when the only thought that crosses my mind is 'oh, but look what a nice shirt that has'. Then you realize that is not cloth but leather, and then the idea to look away from that stuff

is pure fiction. It's-sky is crazy. Andy has his back blurossogiallonero, we ordinary mortals have only pink, and he keeps a picture instead of the back and Brendon does not think it is normal to think of wanting to dry every drop that flows on the skin with his tongue. It is not normal, surely not. Then he turns around and Andy

Christ, is also before
. E 'everywhere. Andy is a palette-no, is a framework on legs. It 's a canvas. A colorful canvas. And very well done.
"Urie, you can know what the fuck you say your head? "Bercia palette, brandishing the remaining ice cube as if it were a butcher knife.
Brendon does not respond in a coherent manner mumbles something incomprehensible and leaves.

"You've never said the situation in terms of Andy's back! "Brendon exclaimed, assaulting Ryan.
Guitarist watching him with wide eyes. "... Are you talking about? " 'tattoos! "" ... Oh. Did you notice now? "
Brendon thinks about it. No, obviously not noticed it now. He always knew that Andy has the body of each kind of color, except that of the skin. But see, oh, it's different. "It 's different. "Muttered defensively, getting a laugh in response.
"Live make another effect, mh? "
nods, vaguely uneasy. 'It's just that-"
" The first time I spoke with Andy, had no shirt. To be precise, he talked and I nodded. "" ... Oh. "" It's all so, you know. I think it's the contrast of colors on the skin. "
There is a part of him that would indicate that the skin has its own view, and opens his mouth to give her voice, but the problem is that at that moment Andy decides to reveal itself at their side, directed towards unknown shores. And, as you can see Brendon with a tinge of regret, is fitted with a mesh. And a towel around his neck, to avoid soaking. "What are you talking about? "
" Of your tattoos. "Ryan says nonchalantly, completely unaware of his imminent death at the hands of its lead singer.
"What does have my tattoos? "
" Nothing. I just did swear that Ryan would be damaged if one of us as you did, we must kill without mercy. "
Thankfully, Ryan is not responding. It simply watch Andy shell look of pure hatred to Brendon and then pushes him with a bad grace from the hall to give way to go, and only when the drummer has now disappeared on the horizon dares to ask, incredulously: "Are you crazy? "
" ... Probably. Ryan, if you dare to say something to someone just had the conversation, I swear that I quartered. "The guitarist
opens her eyes and just nods, unable to hide a ghignetto amused. "Afraid that you find out? "
" No, of course not. ... And then find out what

piece of idiot? "The
ghignetto turns into a real grin, while the owner walks away with long strides towards Spencer's room. Brendon, just down the corridor, can not help but snort and go to his room. Ryan is not nessun'aiuto, he and his ravings about tattoos Andy. Stupid, useless Ryan. And stupid, tattooed Andy.
all his fault.

One of the main reasons for the sleepless night of Andy is, needless to say, the Internet. Specifically, twitter. Andy is already kind of person who sleeps little, if he is able to rely on such distractions is not just going to bed in decent time. Mainly this is why it is night and he is still the PC, one of the many rooms that Pete has turned into a studio. Update once again set the home page, takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, and then by reading the updates. God, how many. dejected sighs, following the usual policy spulciaggio - known nickname, short message, sensible questions - to get a reply when a message intrigues him more than others.
"It hurts to stay up this time? " The nickname is unknown. Do not say anything, not even thinking about it. Discard the idea of one of the millemila Pete account or other such funny guys who enjoy change nick every few seconds, and decide if in doubt, ignore the meddler.
looks at his watch, opens her eyes, looks around.
The five and a quarter, as cabbage-five minutes were the first three. It is certain. And five minutes before it was two of the three.
... His sense of time is really disgusting.
answer the last message of a boy who wishes him goodnight, close the window to an icon and stretches theatrical, arms raised, fingers interlaced and palms facing upward.
"Why did not you say? "
What follows is a heart attack. Or rather, first there is the ghostly murmur from the near-total darkness, then a couple of fingers that touch your hands and then Andy's heart attack. "
Shit.
"He spits out his teeth, holding his chest with one hand," Fuck. Whoever you are. "
Brendon laughs. 'I scared? "
" No, just imagine! E 'perfectly normal for me is to grumble bimbominchia any nonsense ear in the night! "
" ... I do not understand your surprise. "
" Urie, asshole, I was ironic. The boy giggles again. Andy feels he hated her, that laugh, snort, as if it were a chore to do that too, a bit 'lame. "You can know what you want? "You can hear
slow little steps behind him, and then the thud of something that falls into a crash on a chair. "I do not have answered. "Brendon repeats patiently, studying with ill-concealed interest in the bare arms of the drummer. And 'again with no shirt, and blue light on the screen is of no help since it seems that those tattoos
move.

Andy did not appear the least noticed Brendon's gaze, preoccupied as it is to fix the computer. "But what the hell you talking about? "
" First. I asked you a question. "He explains with a groan, articulating the words slowly because of the substantial difficulty thinking about anything other than the tattoos of Andy and roll up the chair.
"What kind of-tomorrow" hangs in mid-sentence, apparently while his two neurons decide to collide and make synapses. "...
you?
" asks, vaguely disgusted, having turned to look into the eyes of a small nuisance.
Brendon smiles. "I have answered" chant for the umpteenth time, stroking her nails against the cotton T-shirt that has stolen from Pete to go to sleep. "Well, there's nothing to respond. "Growled Andy before returning to look after his affairs in wishful thinking that, seeing himself ignored, Brendon decides to stand up and disappear from view.
Obviously, Brendon does not go away.
remains there, motionless in that chair, staring at the facts as you own your PC. And Andy hates

be fixed. E 'irritating the nervous and makes me want to smash the keyboard on the head of the direct culprit.
"What is it? He asks through gritted teeth after a few moments, unable to bear further.
Brendon, on the other hand, will be charged from any thought he was doing, and merely grinned. "Nothing, I'm bored. What are you doing? "My
Cocks. "No big deal. "
moments of silence pass, then the singer leans further in his chair, smiles and asks," Uh, but I'm disturbing? "
Andy would like to answer.
also opens his mouth to roar his best '
Yes, nasty cow
yes' and then, suddenly, he remembers the words of Pete, like a bolt from the blue, so, even if reluctantly, he convinces her to bend her head slightly, back to staring at the screen, and grumble a little and convinced strascicatissimo "No, I figured. "
After what seems an eternity - but that turns out to be a mere quarter of an hour -, realizes that being Brendon

still staring at the back of Andy. It 's just that is hypnotic, mh? "... Why stand at this hour? Asks the other, forcing a cheerful tone and making it jump significantly.
"I-uh, I suffer from insomnia. "Explain.
The drummer, on the other hand, you would like to offer a cure for pouring out to sleep, safe and effective new ones: do you think it's called ' hit on the head', but is not sure the technical name. When in doubt, prefer to be confined to a small smile of circumstance. "I understand. "
" But I am giving you trouble? "
Again, violence must be to reduce any insult to a 'No No' just grumble.

are now five forty-seven when Andy felt an evil presence behind him. "What ...? She asks, turning suddenly and let out a little urletto. "Fuck you ...
?! " Brendon behind him, is - precisely - to

his shoulders. In a way that involves little physical distance is very frightening because you know the damn thing and move silently trovarselo a few inches when until recently there was a comforting meters is plenty to separate at least
curious, if not directly strange
. The singer replied, leaning in silence at his side to look at something on the PC screen and then smile. "But look, there's someone who knows you! "
Specifically, Brendon is showing a message that says roughly twitter 'Hurley, but you, a social life ...?'. Andy has never had a great desire to kill as now. "Brendon, get away from the screen. "It is not intended
not even ask how the hell I managed to read from a chair and were close, because its suspicion that the little fool is equipped with phone and internet connection, nice svaccato chair, it is monitoring minute by minute. "What have I done? He asks, voice thin with the boy, retreating from the computer for the sake of a couple of steps.
"You're breaking balls for hours. "
" ... I'm disturbing? "And three
. Andy squints, grinding his teeth, growls. "Damn it, yes. "And Brendon
, so many things I could do, he decides to do the most wrong of all. Smiles, he bends to align his face with that of the drummer, and trilling: "Well, my work here is done. "
" Okay, fine. Now disappear, mh? He turned to the singer groped to play more peremptory - or desperate, who knows - the only thing I can think of immediately after the is, in fact, be close to Brendon's. The other seems to have noticed, judging by staring at a random area of his chest at one of the many tattoos. He looks vaguely ball and the half-closed mouth in an expression to say the least stupid. And the worst is yet to come, this Andy warns him physically. "What is it? "Mutters defensively.
Brendon shrugs. "Nothing. I was wondering what effect did wear a sweatshirt permanently colored. Remove from curiosity: when you buy the shoes, see which pair fits better with tattoos or go like this, inspiration? "
" Go away. "
" No, please, I am serious! "Yells the other, between a laugh and another. "For some parts of the body you have tattooed even some shopping list? " Andy stands up with one click, and slide off the chair first occupied that office, lays hands on the shoulders of Brendon, and start pushing. "You have to. Disappear. Da Qua. "Syllable very slowly, taking care of just a few steps to the door of the study. 'Andy? "Calls the other, the shadow of a smile on his face and still look strangely serious.
Andy decides to ignore it. "Go away! He exclaims, throwing a shove which theoretically should send him to the carpet if not, at least a few feet away, but that does not seem to have also had its effect because Brendon is still there, a few centimeters. "Andy, please, I ask only one thing. "" Then you go? "
" Then I'm gone. »Confirm with the same tone used on the other, nodding slightly.
"... Okay. What is this? "Brendon takes time. It would seem a step away from saying something, but then suddenly fell silent, babbles, and although the room is illuminated in blue, Andy could swear he saw her cheeks color change to move towards something like the red. "Can I touch you? " not well understood, probably. "What? "
" Can I touch you? "Repeated the boy patiently, causing a blood clot.
"
What!
"" Can I touch tattoos?
" Oh. Oh . That's better. "Oh. It should be ... right? »Dare, without having the faintest idea of what might happen. Brendon raises a hand, stretch the index to his shoulder, and nags at him a bit '. It 'stupid, as a thing, and can also hear the fingernail that, imperceptibly, they scratch at every touch, but at least he will go after, no? It must go, or kill him with his hands.
... After a couple of minutes of idiocy, silence and discomfort, Brendon's finger is still there, tamburellante right shoulder. "Brendon, I'm a tad bit tired of them. "Muttered Andy, his head tilted to the left with a few locks of hair that obscures the view of the pelvis to the opposite line - wrong - the shoulders and threw all the weight on one leg.
'Wait a minute! "Scarf the other, without stopping to needle.
"I advise you to stop. "
" Why? "
" Why not do as I say, I'll take-off from the finger bites. " They look into the eyes for a moment before Brendon opens his hand and placed it delicately, a few inches above the shoulder of Andy, awfully close to the neck. Any insult that might come to mind disappears as soon as the drummer makes the icy fingers of the other are in contact with his skin and at the same time enjoyable. "I ..." Brendon begins to fatigue, almost nodding off in my hand, "do you bother? "Andy

should answer that yes, indeed him a terrible nuisance to have that limb cold shoulder, but half closes his eyes and lets out a small sigh in appreciation. The socket is made automatically stronger, not tight or painful, just more solid. As if Brendon had to pivot to move further and brushes her hair with the other hand, as if he touched his cheek and gently touched his lips with his own. As if. How actually would have happened if Andy had not taken the initiative and, most prosaically, he had not pushed against the door to kiss him. Brendon does not much trouble, after a first moment involuntarily holds his breath and visibly relaxes, the free hand, slow down along the back of Andy feeling under the pads on the skin due to the slight difference to the tattoos, until you get to brush against his side and then tighten at the hip bone, almost scratching. Andy growls. Clings to the mesh with one hand and the other holds it to his head, making him bend his face to the side to be able to kiss deeper.
course, since that is smart by nature, Brendon realizes after a few seconds with the leg that Andy is trying desperately to give him his space slightly, pointing the knee against the inner thigh and pushing at times. Runs without even thinking about it, feeling the light thud of the other bones that had crashed against the wood and apologized as well, except that her mouth is buried in the crook of her neck and Andy is too busy licking biting kissing to be able to also put talk. Well, never mind, Andy does not seem essersela taken, judging by all that attention to his pants that is causing the jugular. On the other hand, realizing that Brendon, in turn, is realized as were his sinister plans, Andy is limited to lightly rub his thigh against the pelvis of the other and the rest comes by itself, that Brendon groans and moves his hand from the side of his lower back and try to get him have it all in one, as if they were standing against a Solid surface roughly but sitting, and that Andy laughs and a few steps away from the boy reaches the chair and sit, trascinandoselo him. So, Brendon is astride Andy, a hand on her neck that holds the hair frantically and the other without any logic that runs through the chest, back, arms, whatever happens to the shot. Andy's is tightening the sides trying to lead his sprawls, and finally, it seems almost succeeded, when a thud in the hallway adjacent to the study is the abandonment of the blood.
profanity followed without logic, Andy and Brendon lay ahead of them without really seeing anything, from any horrified of being discovered, Pete and then - as can be inferred after just a few moments - called aloud: "Andy, are you? "
" Yes, "croaked Andy, paralyzed with fear," I finish one thing to the pc and Out, Pete, goes' to sleep. "
" Okay ... Good night! "
Finally, you can hear the bass player who decides to turn around and returns to where he came.
The two look at each other for several seconds before Andy opens his mouth in a grimace ridiculous. "
What are you doing?
asks, shocked.
Brendon opens his eyes mirrored in him, before answering. "I
?! What do you

!
"
" I-no! "" Nothing my foot, your hands in my pants! "Andy away immediately charged limbs, showing the palms raised in the air to prove their honesty. "You're straddling me on! "
In response, Brendon prop one foot on the floor, resting on the sides of the face of Andy to be able to stand without collapsing on the floor with a crash, and after some very unpleasant and risky maneuver, is now standing at safe distance from the drummer. "Well, settled. Now go to sleep. "Andy greets him with a hand, watching with undisguised pride in the state which is reduced by: shaggy hair, T-shirt that just seems to lash out the spin of a washing machine, his pants down by his side and held on more than a miracle than anything else. Not that he is reduced more, on the other hand, you can not see, but it is almost certain to have a hickey on her neck. And the glasses lie inert in a recess of the cushion, miraculously intact. "'Night. " Brendon mumbles something incomprehensible, crashes into once or twice against the door before he could take the exit for good, and when Andy came into the hall could swear he heard the thud that is due to a clash at close a table that if I remember correctly he had to be there, somewhere. Then this other incoherent mutterings, some bang followed by some word, and then silence. Threw back his head, rubbed his eyes, put on his glasses and looks at the computer. Should turn it off and go to sleep. Should stop being so late. 'Should' a lot of things.
What you should not do - but that does , because it is always a jerk contrarian - and slipped out of the room only after having turned off the screen and in the dark, walk up to Brendon's room, open the door and close again behind him. Brendon does not immediately make you realize what's going on, about only when they hear Andy hug from behind and drag him roughly weight to the bed. "What are you doing? She asks, vaguely alarmed.
Andy smiles. "A shit, probably. "