Brief canon to people on my flist who don't know but might care: this is Shane Valdes - Panic's videographer and Brendon's best friend and roommate. He's adorable and was very concerned about us getting squished at the Astoria concert. They have a dog called Dylan. (Also this is
Title: Destined For Anything At All
Disclaimer: Not real, didn't happen. For the love of God, Shane, don't read this.
A/N: I told this to emilyray in about 100 words last night and she told me to write it properly, so I did! She also betaed it for me and told me to add porn <333
A/N 2: I am suffering confusion over the correct spelling of Valdes/z so I decided to go with Spencer's Pretty. Odd. linear notes. Spencer knows his shit.
Brendon’s subdued when he gets home from Ryan’s. It’s not like he’s normally loud all the time or anything, but he’s never normally this still.
They’re lying on the sofa, Dylan curled up behind Brendon’s knees, Brendon’s feet in Shane’s lap while they watch TV. Shane’s worried because Brendon’s legs are completely still, even when Friends comes on and the theme music starts up. Normally Brendon would be tapping out a beat and counter-beat on Shane’s thigh and Dylan would be twitching crossly at the disruption to her sleep.
Today, Brendon’s just still.
Shane runs two fingers over the arch of Brendon’s left foot and smiles when Brendon twitches his foot up but doesn’t move it out of Shane’s grip. “You okay, buddy?” Shane asks, keeping his eyes on the TV. Brendon’s band are all over each other when one of them is sad but Brendon prefers to act like a real boy around Shane. Shane doesn’t really get why.
Brendon shrugs. “Mmhmm,” he hums.
Shane digs his thumb into the sole of Brendon’s foot, holding it still with fingers around the ankle, when Brendon sighs and stretches his toes out, shamelessly asking for more. “Sure?”
“Sure,” Brendon tells him firmly. There’s a long enough pause that Shane starts to think that Brendon actually might not tell him. Then Brendon says, so quiet that Shane stops his foot massage as though that will help him hear. “I kind of came out to Spence this afternoon.”
“O-oh,” Shane manages. He clears his throat, brain racing. “Right. He was okay with that, right?” Shane can’t imagine any universe where Spencer would have a problem with anything Brendon does, especially not that, but it seems like the sort of thing he should ask.
“Yeah-” At least Brendon sounds less lost for a minute. “Yeah, he was good.” A pause then, “Dude, you’re not freaking out, right?”
Shane it totally freaking out. Shane clears his throat again. “Dude. Fuck. No, of course not.” Calm down, he scolds his brain, which is trying to do cartwheels inside his head – or something less disgusting sounding.
“Cool,” Brendon says. He settles down against the arm of the chair and, after a minute, his feet pick up a beat only he can hear.
Shane closes his eyes for a minute and tells himself not to get his hopes up. Sure, this is Step 3 of The Plan but there’s still like, thirty-something more steps ahead of this and yeah… his brain is still pretty set on the cartwheels.
By the time the episode ends, Brendon’s asleep. His head is tipped back against the sofa, his mouth slightly open and his bangs hiding his eyes. Once Shane’s looked at him, he finds he can’t look away. It’s embarrassing how fond he is of this kid.
Shane’s phone vibrates on the coffee table and he tightens his grip on Brendon’s legs to stop them slipping off while he leans forward to grab it.
Spencer’s written: apprntly bden nos hes gay nw? step 5?
Shane is never, ever getting wasted with Spencer Smith ever again. It’s fucking embarrassing that a guy who shouldn’t even be drinking yet can hold his alcohol better than Shane can.
Step 3 Shane types back, grudgingly.
A second later, Spencer replies, im laughing @u so hard.
Shane groans and drops his phone onto the carpet. Brendon’s friends suck.
The guys are in the studio at the moment, not really recording for anything, just laying down the newest songs so they’ll have something to work from. Shane isn’t working on anything and he’s gotten used to being around Panic so he figures he might as well hang out at the studio as sit at home communing with Dylan and Jerry Springer.
“So,” Ryan says, sidling up to Shane during a break. Well, he doesn’t really sidle, he doesn’t have the grace for that, but Shane will give him points for effort. “I hear Brendon’s embracing the gay.”
“Um.” Shane loves these guys, but Brendon has his loyalty first. “Did he tell you that?”
“Spencer did,” Jon says, appearing on Shane’s other side. Shane doesn’t know if he achieved sidling because he didn’t see him coming; Jon Walker is surprisingly stealthy. “I think he was worried we wouldn’t look properly surprised or something when Brendon got around to telling us.”
Shane raises his eyebrows at him. “Which was a fair worry?”
Jon raises his glass of whatever in Shane’s direction. “Possibly.”
Brendon and Spencer are messing around on Spencer’s drums and Shane can hear them laughing and smack-talking each other and under that he catches a sound that is probably Ryan trying to discreetly clear his throat.
“You’re going to stop screwing around now and tell him, right?” There’s no way that Ryan worked out Shane’s thing for Brendon by himself; Shane is pretty good at playing things close to the chest. Sometimes he wonders if these guys would ever know anything if Spencer wasn’t around to dish out the information he thought they should know.
Shane takes a sip of juice and says “Nope,” as nonchalantly as possible.
Ryan snorts. Ryan thinks Shane’s ridiculous but really, Ryan is in no position to judge anyone else’s ridiculousness. “He deserves to know.”
Possibly, that’s true. Brendon doesn’t need to know though. Knowing that Shane wants him will make him look at Shane differently, will make him start revaluating their relationship before he’s in the right place to come to the decision that Shane wants him to come to. Shane’s happy to wait if it means he’ll get a decent shot in the end.
“Don’t,” Shane says. He wishes he believed that he sounded even the slightest bit threatening but he knows that he mostly sounds imploring and kind of panicked.
Ryan rolls his eyes but something softens around his mouth. Jon looks at him then gives Shane a smile. “Dude, don’t worry about it,” he says. Shane doesn’t miss the way he’s reaching over to squeeze a warning into Ryan’s arm. “We’re not going to blab your secrets.”
“Secrets?” Brendon’s voice cuts through Shane’s gratitude. “Shane Valdes, you have secrets?”
“Uh,” Shane says, “No?”
Ryan rolls his eyes. “Check the date, dude, of course he has secrets.”
“What-” Brendon starts to ask before his expression clears and he grins. “Birthday secrets?” Shane suddenly gets a solid, Brendon-shaped weight dangling from his neck and he’s mostly grateful to Ryan, really he is. “What are you getting me?”
Shane makes a face and jabs two fingers into the soft flesh below Brendon’s ribs. Brendon laughs and squirms away without releasing his hold around Shane’s neck. Shane steadies him with a hand over his hip and doesn’t meet anyone’s eye.
It’s not a surprise and it’s not exactly a problem but Brendon’s new acceptance of his sexuality is, predictably, leading to an increase in the number of dates he’s going on. Shane’s fine with it. Steps 4 through 7 involve Brendon getting comfortable with himself and with all the things he wants to do with boys. Shane is totally fine with it.
Shane has possibly had more than a few beers and is now sitting up in bed watching the X-Men trilogy with Dylan.
The front door bangs open then closed loud enough to make Dylan twitch and Shane covers her ears. She doesn’t need to hear her other daddy bringing home strange men; it’ll only confuse her.
He hears footsteps on the stairs and expects the next sound to be Brendon’s door closing. Instead, there’s a creak from the squeaky floorboard outside Shane’s door and Brendon’s voice saying softly, “Shane? You awake?”
Shane realises that he’s paused the movie – all the better to torture himself with the sounds of Brendon getting laid, presumably – and picks up the remote control again so that at least it’ll look like he’s just done it.
“Yeah, dude,” he says and Dylan barks her input.
The door swings open and Brendon pokes his head in. “Hey.” He’s looking around like he expects Shane not to be alone or something. Shane doesn’t dwell on the irony.
“Hey.” Shane clears some space on the other side of the mattress and Brendon takes the tacit invitation to come sit on the bed beside him.
He scratches Dylan softly under the chin and doesn’t say anything.
“Bad date?” Shane asks. He doesn’t sound hopeful because he’s actually not; he doesn’t want Brendon to have any shitty experiences that might change his mind.
Brendon shrugs. “You don’t want to know.”
Shane puts down the remote control and scoots closer. “Sure, I do,” he says in his best tell Uncle Shane your troubles voice which, when he thinks about it, might be kind of creepy.
Brendon stops petting Dylan and starts picking holes in the bedspread instead. “So apparently I give bad blowjobs,” he says and Shane works very hard at not laughing. “And apparently bad blowjobs mean I get kicked out on my ass. Who knew?”
“Shit,” Shane says, not feeling like laughing anymore. He switches off the TV and tugs on Brendon’s sleeve until Brendon consents to turning around on the bed and hiding his face in Shane’s pillow.
Shane scoots down the bed until they’re level and Brendon automatically curls into him, making a sad noise into Shane’s t-shirt and Shane wants to go walking around Vegas at one in the morning until he finds someone to punch. “That guy sounds like an asshole,” he tells Brendon seriously.
Brendon shrugs. “I liked him.” He pauses then, “It’s just- It’s not like I’d ever blown anyone before, you know?”
Shane’s fine with not being the person Brendon’s trying all this out with, but he’s not fine with Brendon hooking up with assholes who don’t know how lucky they are. He puts his arm around Brendon’s shoulders before he can overthink it.
“Bleh,” Brendon says or something that sounds a lot like it. “No one’s ever going to love me but that’s okay, I can just come live on your sofa and get fed by your hot wife and play with your kids, right?”
Shane rolls his eyes at the ceiling. He tightens his arm around Brendon and kisses the top of his head. “Something like that, dude,” he promises.
Shane thought he’d done pretty well at cheering Brendon up last night, but the next day at the studio he’s still kind of mopey and stoically informing people that he’s going to die alone.
He’s less serious than he was last night, and it’s obviously more to get attention and make people tell him that of course he’s awesome but, to their credit, his guys roll with it for the first couple of hours.
Spencer and Jon make a fuss of him and Ryan shares his coffee and lets Brendon have actual input into their new lyrics without being told to first.
By afternoon though, even Shane’s getting tired of the sighing, which means that Ryan’s about ready to burst.
“For fuck’s sake, Brendon,” Ryan snaps at last, interrupting Brendon’s plaintive humming of Folkin’ Around. “Will you shut up? Or better yet open your eyes. You’ve already found your true fucking love.”
Brendon goes abruptly silent and his eyes bug out. “Ry-?” he chokes out after a beat.
“Not me,” Ryan tells him, rolling his eyes and Brendon’s eyes do a rapid sweep of the room.
Shane doesn’t know what’s showing on his face but he can guess; he can’t really breathe. Brendon takes one look at him and goes about as white as Shane feels. “Oh,” he says.
The room is silent. Shane looks at Ryan because he can’t look at Brendon, takes in his guilty, horrified face and can’t stand it anymore.
He knows it’s cowardly to walk away but that’s what he does. Zack, standing in the doorway, doesn’t try to stop him.
Shane’s hand is on the handle of his car door when he hears the back door of the studio clatter open.
He’s an idiot, he realises, when he can’t resist looking up and gets pinned by the force of Brendon’s stunned, disbelieving face.
“Brendon,” he starts because whatever Brendon wants to say, Shane’s pretty certain he doesn’t want to hear. The success of his plan depended upon it not being sprung on Brendon and certainly not this soon.
“You-,” Brendon starts to say. He looks completely thrown but completely serious and Shane has never wanted to make him look like that, only his parents and stupid, ill-prepared interviewers make him look like that.
Shane stands up straight. He pushes his hat back and his bangs fly into his eyes. “Let’s not, yeah?” He means to sound mature and controlled but his voice breaks a little over the last word and suddenly Brendon’s there, putting a hand on his arm.
“Hey,” Brendon says, “Hey.” His fingers are warm and tight around Shane’s arm and Shane feels something hot and solid go liquid and sick inside his chest – apparently he was lying to himself when he thought he could do this.
“It’s not,” Brendon’s saying. “It’s not like it’s a big deal, right?” He looks so helpless and hopeful that Shane doesn’t snatch his arm away like he wants to. “I mean I crush on people all the time. We’re going to be okay, right?”
Shane wants to tell Brendon that of course they’re going to be okay, he’s felt like this for years and they are okay. But he’s felt like this for years. This isn’t the same as Brendon having a crush on John Mayer one week and Ryan Adams the next. Shane isn’t looking at Brendon and thinking wow, he’s hot – well, he is, obviously but he’s also thinking that he wants to take Brendon out to dinner, get taken to the VMAs as something more than a friend, see their names side by side on invitations to weddings and christenings and other boring shit that will only be bearable because Brendon’s there. He wants to be able to say to people “My boyfriend,” and have them nod because they know who he’s talking about. He just- it’s pathetic but he really wants.
Brendon’s still looking at him, all scared and expectant and Shane always goes along with things to make sure Brendon’s comfortable but tonight he just… can’t.
“It’s a big fucking deal, okay?” he says, before shaking Brendon off and wrenching the car door open.
He doesn’t watch Brendon’s reflection in the rearview mirror as he speeds his car out of the lot because it would be too much of a cliché. He wouldn’t put it in a movie so he won’t do it in real life.
Shane isn’t the type to mope and he isn’t the type to brood. Looks like people can change.
Brendon doesn’t come home that day and he’s still not home the next morning.
Shane lies on the sofa, lies in the bath, lies on his bed and wonders why he thought this was ever a good idea. What kind of masochist moves in with the guy he’s in love with? What kind of guy doesn’t expect that to blow up in his face?
It’s late the next evening and Shane’s considering thinking about calling Brendon when he sees the reflection of headlights coming up the drive. It’s almost a repeat of a couple of nights ago, listening to Brendon walk through their house, but Shane doesn’t think tonight’s going to end with cuddles on top of his comforter.
Brendon doesn’t call his name through the door this time; he knocks and waits for an answer. Shane’s always thought it was cute when Brendon can’t stop his ingrained manners showing through.
“Sorry,” he calls, “Dying of embarrassment, come back tomorrow.” If they’re doing this, he’s not going to be pathetic about it.
The door swings open and reveals Brendon, starkly backlit by the bulbs in the hallway that are too bright but they’ve never bothered to change. Shane can’t see his face but he can see the way he’s fidgeting, scuffing his foot back and forth between the carpet on Shane’s floor and the laminate flooring in the hall.
“I-” Brendon says. His voice sounds rough, like he’s been using it too much or hasn’t used it at all since Shane last saw him.
Shane pushes up onto his knees. “Brendon?”
Brendon clears his throat. “Would you mind waiting?” he asks, too fast. “I’ve got. I guess I’m not really ready for. There’s still some shit that I’ve got to get out of my system but if you're still interested, when I'm done...”
Shane swallows. “Yeah,” he says and now it’s his voice that’s uneven. “Yes, sure.”
Brendon steps out of the doorway and Shane can see him properly, see his smile. “Awesome.”
There’s a pause while Brendon looks down at the floor and Shane looks at him, feeling his head spin a bit with tentative relief.
Brendon’s biting his lip when he lifts his gaze again to meet Shane’s. “Could I get a kiss? Like a preview of coming attractions?”
Shane laughs. There’s been this weight in his stomach for the last day and all of a sudden it’s gone. “Sure. Come here.”
Brendon settles gingerly onto the mattress by Shane’s knees and curls his hands on his own thighs.
“Come here,” Shane says but he doesn’t wait for Brendon to move, just pushes up into his space and gently closes their mouths together.
“Oh,” Brendon breathes and Shane only hears it because he feels it as warm air across his lips. Brendon lifts a hand and tangles it in Shane’s hair, pulling them together into a deeper kiss. Shane opens his mouth to let Brendon lick his teeth, follows Brendon’s tongue back into Brendon’s mouth and returns the favour, breathing Brendon in, tasting him even though he knows that’s going to make it harder to be patient.
When Brendon pulls back, his eyes are bright. “You’ll wait?”
“Yeah,” Shane promises, and decides it’s okay to ask for one more kiss.
Coda: x months later:
Shane isn’t nervous. Shane’s had a fair amount of sex in his life and he’s been thinking about this particular sex for way longer than it would cool to admit.
So he’s cool, he’s calm, he’s collected. He’s shaking like a fucking leaf and possibly going to puke.
“Dude,” Brendon says, knocking on the wall and entering Shane’s en-suite. “Shane?” He’s just as naked as he was when Shane left him sprawled and hard on his bed, just as naked as Shane is. Shane’s only supposed to have come in here for a condom; possibly he’s gotten a little distracted.
“Hey,” Shane says and it’s easy to get his breath back now because Brendon’s looking at him, smiling at him and there’s no doubt at all on his face. “Sorry.”
Brendon steps right up into his space, arms fitting around Shane’s waist like they’ve always been there. “Did you get lost?” he asks right against Shane’s lips.
Shane can only nod because Brendon’s already kissing him, hustling him backwards until Shane’s ass hits the cold, tiled wall. Shane’s pretty certain he’s supposed to be the one in charge here, but with Brendon sucking hickeys onto his throat he can’t really remember why.
“Brendon,” he says but runs out of anything to say after that. He skims his hands down Brendon’s back and ends up touching his ass. He’s allowed to do that now and he really likes Brendon’s ass.
“Shane,” Brendon mimics. His eyes are bright and teasing and Shane kind of really loves him. “Excuse me while I suck your cock.”
“Right,” Shane says faintly, but Brendon’s already folding neatly down onto the bathroom floor, already taking a first, experimental lick up Shane’s cock.
Shane sinks back against the wall and closes his eyes.
He opens them less than a second later, when Brendon starts nosing around his balls and can’t stop the whimper when Brendon licks one, then the other, then the fragile skin between them. “Oh Jesus fuck,” Shane says and Brendon laughs into his ballsack. That feels fucking weird.
Brendon blows him quick and thoroughly, his mouth getting everywhere, staying just long enough to get Shane going but not enough to get him off.
Shane’s moaning pretty much constantly by now and he’d be embarrassed about that but he can’t think, can’t do anything but run his hands over Brendon’s face, trace his ears, touch his hollowed cheeks.
“Please?” Shane manages to choke out and Brendon pulls back until just the head is between his lips, his hands taking care of the rest. He hums what feels like a question and orgasm doesn’t so much wash over Shane as race, crashing through his bones and his skin, making his knees weak until they can’t hold him up anymore, until he’s on his knees with his mouth on Brendon’s.
“So,” Shane says weakly, eventually. “You’ve gotten better at that, huh?”
Brendon blinks at him for a moment then understanding dawns and he laughs, ducking his head, kissing his way down Shane’s body until his head is on Shane’s lap.
Shane can’t quite make his hands lift from Brendon’s hair and face but Brendon seems fine with it, resting his forehead against Shane’s thighs and pressing random kisses against skin that’s still kind of sensitive.
When he looks up, he’s smiling but it’s a little tentative, a little shy. “If I asked you to fuck me over the sink, would that be a bit kinky for a first time?”
Shane’s going to be thirty sooner than he’d like to think about but apparently his dick doesn’t know that. Apparently his dick really likes that idea, kinky or not. “Sure,” he says and isn’t surprised that his voice shakes.
Brendon beams at him. “I want to see,” he explains, standing up and putting his hands on the edge of the washbasin, making faces at himself in the mirror.
Shane clears his throat. “Me too,” he admits and gets a blinding smile for his honesty.
There’s lube in the cabinet below the washbasin and Shane has to reach between Brendon’s knees to get at it, which puts him in perfect range to bite Brendon’s ass. He doesn’t resist. Brendon laughs and moans all at the same time and ends up just moaning more when Shane straightens and rubs a slick finger over his hole.
Brendon’s done this before (‘some but not lots,’ he’d said when they’d talked about it. That whole conversation had been embarrassing but also very hot; turns out Brendon likes to share) but Shane’s still as thorough as he can be with the prep. Partly because he doesn’t want to hurt Brendon – mostly because he doesn’t want to hurt Brendon – but also a bit because Brendon looks really hot, twisting and writhing around Shane’s fingers.
Turns out that Brendon can only be patient for so long though and after a while he stops fucking himself on Shane’s fingers and starts trying to turn around and grab him instead, trying to pull him closer with clumsy fingers.
“Okay,” Shane says and kisses the smooth skin of his bare shoulder. He gets the condom on and his cock slicked up and starts to push inside, making sure to go slow and ignore his body which wants to slam the fuck home, right now.
Brendon’s hands are wrapped around the rim of the basin in a white-knuckled grip and his head drops forward while he moans helplessly into his chest.
Shane sucks in a breath when he’s all the way in, forces his gaze up from long line of Brendon’s spine and looks at their reflections. Shane’s face is red and sweaty and he could do without knowing that but Brendon, Brendon is fucking gorgeous, flushed lips and darks eyes. His head is still down and Shane can see him, see the shadow of a sex blush spreading down his chest, see his ribs expand and contract as he drags in a breath, see how it’s timed with the tiny thrusts that Shane’s allowing himself. But Brendon’s not looking up, he can’t see.
“Hey,” Shane whispers right in his ear. He peels one hand off Brendon’s hip and uses it to tilt his chin up. “Hey, hey, look at you.”
Brendon’s head comes up and in the full light Shane can see that his eyes aren’t just dark, they’re blown. Brendon reaches out a shaky hand and splays it by their reflections. “Look at us,” he says, voice hoarse.
“Yeah,” Shane agrees. He can’t stop kissing any and all of Brendon’s skin as he finds it but Brendon’s shivering under his hands, trembling with badly contained need and Shane begins to thrust, keeping it slow at first, still letting himself kiss as they start to move together faster. He keeps kissing until he has to stop, needs all the air he can get as Brendon fucks himself hard with Shane’s cock, moaning and choking off not-quite-noises.
One of Brendon’s hands comes up to his own cock and Shane doesn’t bat him away even though he wants to be the one touching because Brendon’s pale hand on his flushed cock is too hot to complain about. Shane just wraps his own darker hand over Brendon’s, fitting their fingers together until they’re both jacking Brendon to and over into his orgasm.
Brendon’s totally silent when he comes, mouth open and eyes screwed shut. He’s amazing to watch like that and part of Shane wants to stop, take it all in, but Brendon’s clenching hard and uncontrolled around him and he really doesn’t have any choice but to come as well.
Somehow they get separated and Shane gets rid of the condom but that’s pretty much all the combined energy that they have left and they just slump against the wall after that, heads together, holding each other up.
“So,” Brendon says after a long time. Shane’s just starting to get cold, is thinking about how Brendon will look sleeping in his bed. It’s a nice image so he just hums into Brendon’s hair. “So that was worth the wait, right?”
To most people he’d sound cocky and there’s a lot of that there in his voice, but there’s also something that’s asking for reassurance, so Shane squeezes him as hard as his arms will let him. It’s probably not that hard seeing as how they feel like they’ve turned into noodles. “Totally better than even my best jerk-off fantasy,” he promises.
Brendon laughs and it blows through Shane’s hair, makes him shiver. “Hey,” Shane says, “I think I might have this bed…”
Brendon presses close for another second, kisses Shane’s cheek. “Hey,” he says, stepping back just far enough that their skin unsticks with a faint noise. “I think maybe you do!”
Shane laughs, grabs his hand, and leads him there.
Title from Green Day's Waiting. Working title: Mr Valdes' 37 Step Plan to Get His Man