emilyray wanted Destined for Anything At All 'verse, anything from the period between the first kiss and the first-time sex.
Shane/OMC, Brendon/Shane, R, ~1800 words.
Close Enough to Taste it
Brendon was possibly the most hypocritical guy in the world. He felt bad about it, really he did. He hated hypocritical people and he tried never to be one but it turned out that he totally, totally was.
Shane was on a date. Shane was on a date with a guy his own age who was sweet and friendly to Brendon and taught disadvantaged kids how to make rainbows or something and Brendon… Brendon was really not happy about this.
He rolled up onto his knees on the bed and did another handstand. It was his fourth that evening and not even all the blood rushing to his head and making his ears pound was doing anything to wash away the twisty, off-kilter feeling in his brain.
So yeah, Brendon was a hypocrite.
Shane was in love with Brendon. Shane wanted to date and kiss and look after Brendon and the only reason that that wasn’t happening right now was that Brendon had said not yet. It was Brendon’s fault that Shane was off doing… whatever with Mr Perfect.
I suck he wrote into his sidekick then hesitated over who to send it to. In the end, he sent it to all three of them.
you do, Ryan sent back about a half minute later. Ryan, as far as Brendon knew, had no idea what Brendon was talking about. He was in New York with Keltie so hadn’t been around for all the angsting that Brendon had been doing for the last few days.
havin sex, Spencer wrote back just after Brendon had deleted Ryan’s message. wil cal u in abit.
Spencer was an asshole, but it sort of got Brendon to smile a little. At least until it hit him that maybe Shane was having sex. Right now. Right this minute. With Mr Perfect who was tall and built and blond and nothing like Brendon at all.
It was Jon who called Brendon back. Jon was totally Brendon’s favourite. Well, on every third day anyway.
“Hey,” Jon said, voice sounding muffled.
“Bleh,” Brendon said because hello was just too positive for the emo currently residing in his soul.
“I,” Jon told him grandly. “Am eating strawberry shortcake.”
“Your mom’s or Cassie’s?” Brendon asked cautiously. Cassie was possibly Brendon’s favourite of the girl people in his life, but she seriously could not cook. She was worse than Brendon and Brendon held the Urie-Valdez record for setting saucepans alight.
“My mom’s,” Jon said, still clearly talking around food. Brendon could just imagine the spray of crumbs flying everywhere. He missed Jon.
“Awesome,” Brendon agreed. Then flopped back down onto the bed sighing, distraction forgotten.
“So what’s up?” Jon asked. Jon, obviously, was back home so he also had missed out on Brendon’s woes. In fact come to think of it, Spencer was possibly the only person who Brendon had been sharing his troubles with. Maybe Spencer should be his favourite.
“Shane’s on a date.”
There was silence then, “Right.”
“With someone who isn’t me.”
This time the silence was longer. “Yeah,” Jon drawled eventually. “Obviously. If Shane ever got you on a date, there’s no way he’d be letting you waste it calling me.”
Brendon picked a piece of fluff out from between his toes. He peered at it. It was pink. They didn’t have anything in the house that could produce pink fluff. Maybe Dylan was experimenting with cross-dressing.
“Yeah,” he sighed.
“Dude?” Jon asked.
“I’m a terrible person,” Brendon confessed. “Like terrible.”
“You really are,” Jon agreed deadpan.
“Jon,” Brendon said and fuck, his voice cracked a little. He held his breath, hoping Jon hadn’t heard.
Jon’s sigh was loud and gusty down the phone. “Look. Shane’s waiting for you, right? That’s what you said?”
Brendon nodded then remembered they were on the phone and said “Yeah.” Except. Except Shane had been waiting months and all Brendon had given him was one kiss – one seriously awesome kiss but still. Mr Perfect was probably sucking Shane’s dick right now.
“Bden,” Jon said, dragging out the B so it sounded like a one-note song. “Dude. Shane’s on a date and you’re jealous. That’s a good thing. It means you’re almost done with your whole finding yourself thing and you’re getting ready to like, claim your rightful place or something.”
“My rightful place in his bed?” Brendon asked doubtfully.
“Or wherever,” Jon said agreeably. “Okay, look, I got to go. Cassie wants… well, there might be nakedness, is all I’m saying.”
Brendon forced himself to laugh. “You and Spencer both,” he confided.
“Oh God,” Jon sighed. “Things I didn’t need to think about, dude.” He laughed. “I’m gonna hang up on you now. Chin up and shit.”
“Yeah,” Brendon lied. “Chin is firmly up.”
“Good boy.” Jon sounded abruptly fond again. Brendon never knew what he did to prompt that but he liked it when it happened. “Bye.”
“Bye,” Brendon said to the dial tone.
He was still sitting on his bed, tossing his phone end over end, when Shane came home. Brendon didn’t bring people home with him when he hooked up. It seemed like an absolutely unnecessarily shitty thing to do, but that didn’t mean that Shane wouldn’t. Shane didn’t know that Brendon was… whatever he was doing. Pining maybe? Just a little.
Brendon strained his ears but he couldn’t hear voices and there was only one set of footsteps on the stairs. Before he could stop himself, he was in his doorway, leaning against the doorframe.
“How was it?” he asked, when Shane came around the top of the stairs. When Brendon’s dates went badly, Shane was always there for him. Brendon was just offering to return the favour.
Shane smiled at him. He was wearing colour this evening - a dark red shirt with his black pants – and he’d done something to his hair so that it looked styled. Brendon’s belly clenched.
“Yeah, it was good,” Shane told him.
“Right.” Brendon dragged up his widest smile. “Coffee?” he asked brightly, spinning towards the kitchen except, oh yeah, they were upstairs. “I mean, uh, soda? Or cookies? I have cookies in my room.”
Shane followed him into his bedroom but caught his arm before he could go routing around for snacks or anything. “B? Is something up?”
“What? No. I’m good, are you good?” The problem with living with someone was that they pretty much always knew when you were lying.
“Brendon.” Shane curled his hands into fists and rested them on Brendon’s shoulders. His hands were warm and Brendon wanted to turn his head, see if he could brush one with his cheek.
Brendon looked down. “I suck,” he told the floor.
Shane’s hands uncurled and one slid down Brendon's arm to encircle his wrist while the other framed the side of his throat. Brendon wondered if maybe Shane was a little drunk; he never normally let himself touch Brendon like this.
“Who did you fight with?” Shane asked and Brendon knew what he was asking: who made you feel bad? Who should I shout at?
Brendon shook his head. “No one. I just-" He made himself look up. “I don’t think I like you going on dates.”
Shane’s hands clenched for a minute, grinding Brendon’s wrist bones together, thumb pressing down against the side of Brendon’s trachea. Then he let go completely and stepped back. “Brendon.”
“I know.” Brendon was a really bad friend. “I know, okay. I told you I suck.”
“Hey.” Shane was touching him again, his thumb and middle finger catching Brendon’s chin and tipping his head up. And yeah, he was definitely a bit drunk, Brendon thought. “If you want me-” Brendon thought there were probably supposed to be more words after that, but Shane sort of trailed off.
“I do,” Brendon promised. “I do, so much. It’s just-” There was this itch under Brendon’s skin, this need to kiss more people, fuck more people, find out everything about everyone. He was pretty certain that it came from the same place as his need to spin in circles when he was bored and sing at the top of his lungs when he was angry and all the other things that made him Brendon. Brendon didn't think he was never going to want to be with anyone else ever again, after he'd been with Shane. He was pretty much terrified by that.
“Still?” Shane asked even though Brendon hadn’t said any of that aloud. Brendon didn’t look up to see if he looked pleased or frustrated or bored.
“I’m sorry,” Brendon started to say except that he got as far as so- and then Shane was kissing him.
Mmph? Brendon thought really loudly, but didn’t dare break away to say. He grabbed onto handfuls of Shane’s shirt – his best, red shirt that he’d worn to go date someone else – and opened his mouth as wide as he could, letting Shane lick his teeth and the roof of his mouth, sucking on Shane’s tongue to keep it when he thought maybe Shane was going to take it away.
Brendon’s legs shook and his stomach hurt in this weirdly pleasant way. He tried to talk against Shane’s mouth, no idea what he was trying to say, and he could only make disapproving bleating sounds when Shane finally pulled away.
“Oh,” Brendon said, touching his top lip with his tongue. It was bleeding a little. Shane didn’t look much better, all flushed and breathless, his hair a mess again.
“Yeah.” Shane swallowed and Brendon watched his adam’s apple bob. The last time they’d kissed, it had been planned. They’d been nervous and cautious and it had been amazing but it hadn’t been hot like that just was. Brendon had actually lost some feeling in his toes.
“I-,” Brendon started to say, but Shane shook his head.
“I’m going to go to bed,” he said. He touched Brendon’s mouth with his thumb and it didn’t occur to Brendon to try to taste it until a second too late when Shane was stepping away.
“Right,” Brendon managed. He watched Shane turn away and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Did you kiss him? Mr Per- um, Adam?”
Shane didn’t turn around and for a second, Brendon thought he was mad. Then he shook his head. “No, Bren,” he said. He didn’t sound angry and he didn’t sound sad, just tired. “Of course I didn’t.”