Mouth To Mouth

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Summary: When Brendon wakes up he can’t say anything...because they only thing he can say is 'Ryan'.
Disclaimer: Not real; never happened.
Author Notes: Um, yeah. Pretty much don't know what to say here except that I think this is like crack!porn or something. I don't know... 

When Brendon wakes up he can’t say anything. 

Technically it isn’t that he is incapable of speaking, it’s that he’s quite literally unable to say anything. As in, the actual word itself. 

In fact, there are a lot of things he can’t say. Like, Ugh, it’s too early (when he stretches himself awake) or What the fuck?! (when he realizes that what he said wasn’t what he meant to say) or even Jon! (when he grows terrified of his revelation that his mouth isn’t forming the words that his brain is telling him to say). 

But Jon isn’t the one who comes running to his frightened cries. Instead, a thin, lanky boy with sandy hair comes skidding to a halt in front of his bunk before ripping his curtain open with wide eyes. 

And Brendon can’t even protest the other boy's concerned presence because the only thing Brendon can say is “Ryan.” 

---- 

If anyone had to guess why such an unfortunate thing was happening to Brendon’s voice, they would probably try to trace back to the last time Brendon was able to speak normally and without the obvious rebellion of his vocal chords. 

Brendon had been dancing through the front lounge, wiggling his ass as he moved and humming loudly (and being generally annoying) to the song he’s spent the last twenty minutes begging Spencer to download from iTunes. 

“Brendon,” Spencer had growled after his band mate’s fifth attempt at bribery. 

For some reason Brendon thought that the reasonable payment for Spencer’s kindness was to sing for Spencer the song he’d been obsessed with since, well. He wasn’t really obsessed with it, just liked to sing it. A lot. At rather obnoxious intervals, too. Like the first thing in the morning when he wakes up and passes Spencer’s bunk. Or when he’s bored, which is practically every five seconds. Which means that he. Never. Shuts. Up. 

But that was beside the point. The point was Spencer had been fending off Brendon’s pleas and even his pathetically world renowned Urie Pout for an astoundingly long time and he was sure that once Jon woke up or Ryan came back from the store with Zack, Brendon would find someone else to annoy. 

“Spencer!” Brendon whined, throwing himself at Spencer’s feet dramatically, clinging to the drummers pant leg as if he was slowly sinking into a puddle of his own self pity. Rolling his eyes, Spencer continued typing away on his laptop, emailing Haley back something to do with curtain rods and a broken thermostat. “Please,” Brendon begged, pulling himself up to peer over Spencer’s knee only to be met with the cover of his laptop. He hoisted himself higher, pulling harder on Spencer’s pants and peeked over the top of the laptop at the unamused face of Spencer Smith. “Please,” he repeated, more desperately. “I need that song, Spence.” 

“You hear it every fucking day, Brendon,” Spencer reasoned, setting his laptop aside so that Brendon wouldn’t have to strain his neck; he rested his chin on Spencer’s knee and looked up at the drummer with wide, innocent eyes. 

“I know,” Brendon said nodding, his chin digging into the denim of Spencer’s pants. “But the original makes me so much happier inside.” 

“Brendon,” Spencer said calmly. “I am not downloading you a song that you hear every night just because you think the original is better; besides, I’m trying to talk to Haley.” 

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