DAMN YOUR KISS; ryden

Chapter Two: Stop There And Let Me Correct It

"Am I an attractive woman?" Brendon leant closer into the mirror, pushing his fingers across his cheeks, grabbing and tilting his chin, rubbing his strong jawline.

Zack looked up, from the deck of cards he's been shuffling, exchanging a look with Dallon, who simply gave him a What can you do? Look back. "Um. Not catching your drift there, Brenny."

"I mean," Brendon pushed his hair right back from his forehead, pouting his lips at his reflection, raising an eyebrow to himself. "If I were a woman, would I be attractive?"

Dallon didn't look up as he perused through each of his cards, but did raise an eyebrow. "Remember what we told you about clarifying things beforehand? How helpful it is to us in understanding?"

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon rolled his eyes, his reflection copying his movement, and he finally turned away. "I remember."

Dallon laid his first card down, and Zack looked back at Brendon, who gave him a level look back, raising an eyebrow, before he shook his head and turned away, laying his own card down. "I'd ask you to join, but ..."

"I don't have a poker face." Brendon waved his words away. "Again. I know. You know, I have this theory."

He waited, for one to speak, to ask what that theory was. Entertain him. Dallon and Zack looked at one another. They both thought about not. But Brendon had a habit of being incredibly insistent, nipping at them until they gave in, like an over-excitable puppy, when he really wanted to.

Finally "What is that theory then, Brendon?"

He grinned widely, goofily, glad they'd acknowledged him. He wasn't an attention whore ... much. "Well, between you two, Spencer, I won't need any actual parents ever again. I now no longer require their services, when I have you guys what not to say, what not to put in my mouth, where I shouldn't wander off to ..."

"And we think of you as our simple, bothersome son." Zack laughed. "I think I've all but wiped your ass."

Brendon grinned, and walked past them, punching their shoulders as he went, darting away fast enough so that they missed him when they swiped back, before going over to the couch, and throwing himself down. "I think I've finally done it. I think I've finally procrastinated against procrastination." He picked up a cushion, kneading the corners, fluffing it out, before hugging it to his chest.

"Well, then ... do something." Dallon looked at his cards, a flicker of smugness crossing his face, before slapping them down on the table. "Royal flush!" he proclaimed.

Brendon snorted. "But doing stuff is hard." He whined. "And you say it like it's so easy."

"Oh, to be Brendon." Zack said dramatically, making a face at Dallon's luck, and throwing his cards down, too. "How simple and fun it must be to view everything as one big Disney cartoon."

Brendon snorted. Then he snorted again, and soon he was chuckling his ass off, in what the others had coined his 'stoner laugh'. And the amazing thing? He didn't even have to be high to do it. One of his many, many strange talents. "If I could be any Disney Princess-"

"Oh, god," Zack pushed his face into his hands, and let it slump against the table.

"I'd totally be Jasmine." He nodded in agreement at his own words. "I'd rock one of those ponytail things. And the pointy shoes. Ooh, ooh! Or Snow White."

Dallon grinned as he collected all the cards back up. "So you'd get to kiss your Prince Charming?"

Brendon scowled. "Shut up."

And then it was silent. Dallon finished with the cards, pushed them in the pack, and waved at Zack and Brendon, glancing at his watch, then digging his cell out. "Wife," he said in way of explanation. And then, for a little while, it was just Brendon and Zack, though neither spoke.

And then Zack's phone rang, a loud obnoxious blaring that woke them both up from their dazes. It rang for so long, that Brendon opened his mouth to tell Zack to answer the fucking thing, but ... he did.

And Zack's face became like a kaleidoscope, emotions so different flickering across his features, hand at one point clapping over the cell harder, over his mouth, and the conversation was animated. Brendon tried to to listen. But he noticed a stunning lack of names - and he could see Zack going to say one a few times. Huh.

And suddenly, it was over.

And Zack stood.

"Who was it?" Brendon said, just as he got to the door, reaching for the handle. Zack froze, and he visibly tensed. He reached out to grab the handle again, then drew back, then reached out. "Uh ... Someone."

"Wow. Really?" Brendon said sarcastically, sitting up straighter. And he gave Zack unwavering eye contact, raising his eyebrows. "Who's visiting soon?"

Zack crossed his arms over his chest. Then unwound the gesture. "Don't get mad."

Brendon's eyebrows shot up further. "Why would I get mad?"

Zack swallowed. "Ryan. Brendon. Ryan's coming. To visit."

And even through the sudden sensation of the ground - or couch - dropping from beneath him, Brendon reeled that in, and put on his mask. A bright, fake smile bloomed over his lips and cheeks, and he waved his hand, before flopping back down. "Oh, Ryan? As in ... our Ryan? Oh, cool."

Zack's brow furrowed, and this time, he looked incredulous. "You're not ... bothered?"

Yes. "Nah," Brendon shook his head, and his smile grew. "Why would I be? It'll be great to catch up."

And just before Zack closed the door behind him, he muttered "Catching up ... That's one word for whatever's gonna hit us, I guess."