In which Bob and Brian are told of the Waybaby.
800 words, Bob/Brian, Lindsey/Gerard, PG-13
Brian’s cellphone rings at some time around fucking-early a.m.
“The fuck?” Bob mumbles rolling onto his side and pulling his pillow over his head.
It’s a good question so Brian repeats it into his phone once he’s thumbed the answer key.
“Oh no did I wake you?” Gerard asks but he doesn’t stop talking long enough for Brian to answer.
Brian catches maybe one word in seven but that one word is pretty monumental. “Wait,” he says, sitting up abruptly. Bob mutters something grumpy. “Did you just-? Gerard fuck did you just say what I think you just said?”
“I said baby,” Gerard confirms and Brian can just imagine his beaming smile, all proud and aw-shucks at the corners.
Brian can feel himself starting to grow wide-eyed, chasing away the fuzziest edges of sleep. He turns to Bob, comforter twisting around his waist and pokes him in the middle of his bare back, just beside his spine.
Bob rolls over, blinking at him sleepily. “What?” he asks, but Brian shushes him.
“Just to be clear you’re not talking about the Wentzspawn or anything?” Brian checks. Sometimes Gerard has dreams and he gets his realities confused.
That sets Gerard off again, talking about playdates and raising a kid in LA. Brian blinks slowly, listening to Gerard’s happy, excited babble. To be fair, it’s probably not babble – Brian catches actual numbers, due dates maybe? – but it’s late and all this feels fucking surreal.
Bob’s hand nudges his knee and Brian looks up. “Everything okay?” Bob asks. Bob hates it when people whisper at him when he’s on the phone so he never does it to anyone else.
“Is that Bob?” Gerard asks, interrupting himself. “Let me talk to Bob?”
“You woke him up,” Brian warns, “He’ll be grumpy.”
Gerard just laughs and yeah, Brian agrees; Bob’s never grumpy at Gerard.
Brian hands the phone over and lies down, watching the confused lines between Bob’s eyes disappear and morph into smile lines, but before Brian gets comfortable, Bob’s cell starts to ring.
Brian rolls over to the edge of the bed, fumbling around in the pockets of Bob’s abandoned jeans – because Bob is a slob in Brian’s house, no where else but always in Brian’s house.
“Hello?” he says, “Bob’s phone.”
There’s a familiar laugh and then, “So I’m knocked up,” Lindsey says.
Brian flops back onto his back and grins at the ceiling. “So I hear.”
“We’re still working on how to announce it; I’ll have one of our guys call you?”
Shit, Brian wasn’t awake enough to realise before but he’s going to have to manage this; the fans are going to go crazy. “Yeah,” he says, “That’d be good. Gee’s a little excited, huh?”
Lindsey laughs. “He called our moms and Mikey already; I think he's forgotten that people sleep.”
“Did he ever know?” Brian asks which gets another laugh out of her. Brian is kind of stupidly fond of Lindsey. “Seriously though, congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she says, voice going soft. “We think it’s good.”
“Yeah.” Brian doesn’t want kids, he’s never wanted kids, even before he knew the number of wombs in his relationships was likely to be zero, but times like this he always gets a little wistful.
They say their goodbyes and by the time Brian’s put Bob’s phone away – on the side table this time, where cellphones belong – Bob’s off the phone too, curled on his side towards Brian, watching him through half-slitted eyes.
“That was exciting,” Brian says, scooting down and kissing Bob’s temple just because.
Bob lifts an arm and drapes it heavily over Brian’s waist, pulling him in. Brian rolls onto his side and lets Bob spoon up behind him. “So,” Bob says, words heavy with sleep and warm on the back of Brian’s neck. “Baby.”
“Baby,” Brian agrees solemnly. “Way baby. You owe me fifty dollars.” It’s always been odds-on that Frank would spawn first but Brian likes to bet against the odds.
Bob’s hand flattens over Brian’s stomach, thumb tapping against his hipbone. “Remind me in the morning?”
Brian hums agreeably; he knows where Bob keeps his cash. Brian closes his eyes but his brain is whirring. It’s just sinking in that Gerard, Gerard is going to be a dad. Brian remembers the fucked up, permadrunk kid he first met and can’t help smiling stupidly.
“Hey Bryar,” he says, linking his hand through Bob’s and dragging it lower. “Want to try and knock me up?”
Bob’s hand tightens in Brian’s and there’s a long, considering pause. “In the morning,” Bob decides eventually and Brian laughs. “Fair enough,” he says and entertains himself imagining all the crazy shit they’re going to do with this kid when it’s born.
In conclusion: WAYBABY! (and now I'm going to sleep)