For Other Meanings Of Tsunami, part 1/4 By @ jocondite on LiveJournal http://jocondite.livejournal.com/126429.html
“That show was -”
“It kind of sucked balls,” Ryan agrees.
“Oh, fuck you both,” Brendon says, pulling off his golden coat and then the brown t-shirt he wears under it, two many layers of clothes too many. “I was awesome.”
“The kids sing for you, Brendon,” Spencer says, “they wouldn’t care how off-key you are, they can barely hear you over their own screaming.”
“I was on-key,” Brendon protests, and throws his soaked t-shirt at Spencer. “I’m always on-key! I have perfect pitch, so take that back, motherfucker.”
“I wasn’t talking about you anyway,” Ryan says, frowning as Spencer starts trying to whip Brendon with his towel, “I was talking about my string breaking at the end of Esteban, dickheads – are you even listening to me?”
“I’m guessing no,” Jon says kindly, and he and Ryan lean against each other and watch as Brendon and Spencer run in crazy circles and sneaky double-backs around the changing room, their bare feet slipping on the floor, laughter half-choked, rough and uneven.
“Ha!” Spencer crows, cornering Brendon, “take that!” His towel smacks against Brendon’s shoulder, curls cracklingly around his legs, and Brendon throws his head back and howls.
“…you do realize there are probably people out there waiting?” Ryan asks. “And listening? Right?”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Brendon announces, “Spencer Smith, I am going to own you and you are going to cry for mercy –”
He lunges, and Spencer slips out of the way; Brendon skates unsteadily over the tiles, propelled too far by his own momentum, and only barely manages to avoid falling over. They circle Ryan and Jon warily, keeping just out of each other’s reach, and neither of them can quite control their slightly manic giggling.
Ryan presses his forehead against Jon’s shoulder. “I don’t know how they have any energy left, I just don’t.”
“Awww,” Brendon says, abandoning the standoff (Spencer is standing far too ready to flee, eyes flickering from side to side, and he doesn’t honestly have enough energy to expend on a losing battle even for principle’s sake). “You should totally have used this time to bag the shower, dude. Think strategically.”
“We don’t have time,” Jon explains, “it’s bus showers tonight.”
“Huh,” Brendon says, and that’s bad news, it is, but bus showers mean more time, which – fuck, if only the bus shower wasn’t so fucking small… “I totally need a shower, though. A proper one. I call first.”
“I called it first.” Jon smiles. “You just didn’t hear me, You were too busy chasing Spencer.”
“Really? Man, you just don’t understand how badly I need one. I felt like I was dying tonight, like, being cooked slowly inside my fucking jacket. Isn’t it supposed to be winter?”
“Yeah,” Ryan says, “you do reek.”
Brendon sticks his tongue out at him. “No, but seriously. I’m thinking next tour, after the album, next tour we’re totally going nudist.”
“Dude,” Spencer says very slowly, “no.”
“Think of how much cooler it’d be!” Brendon argues, “I’m totally lobbying for nakedness. We could wear loincloths, be all He-Man.” He widens his eyes at Ryan persuasively. “Think about, uh, the artistic ramifications! It could symbolize the thread-bareness of modern culture, or, like. Um.”
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Ryden Smut
FanfictionTHESE ARE NOT MINE, I DID NOT WRITE THEM Most of them are from LiveJournal and written in 2007 so please dont bother the authors unless you think that they wouldn't want their stories in this. If you are an author of one of the stories please tell m...
