Bandom: A Series of Events
Mar. 15th, 2007 03:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
januar_ficTitle: A Series of Events
Fandom: Bandom
Characters/pairing: Every pairing possible for Panic. :D?
Rating: n/a
Word count: n/a
A/N: Hans gave me seven prompts. Each of them turned into a ficlet.
gravel; Jon/Spencer
"You know, if you wore real shoes, we wouldn't be doing this," Spencer commented as he leaned over Jon's foot with tweezers and anesthetic.
"They are real shoes," Jon replied, wincing a little bit as Spencer pulled another piece of gravel from his foot and dropped in the trash can. "Besides," he grinned, wiggling his foot until Spencer grabbed it to hold it still, "you like my feet."
"That's not the point here. The point is you need to wear real shoes." Spencer pulled out the last piece, then cleaned up the spots with the medicine.
"Of course it is." Jon moved so that instead of his feet sitting in Spencer's lap, he was. He grinned at the slightly frowning Spencer as he wrapped his arms around the younger boy's neck. "Why do you think I wear flip-flops all the time?" Spencer blinked, and Jon leaned to kiss him briefly on the lips. "Because you loooove them. Don't you deny it, Spencer Smith. I know your secret."
Spencer shook his head, but he smiled and placed his arms around Jon's waist. "At least wear some sneakers when playing basketball out in the parking lot with Brendon. Do you think I like picking gravel out of your feet?"
Jon grinned again, giving Spencer another kiss. "Of course you do," he replied. "But," he added, placing a finger on Spencer's lips as the younger boy opened his mouth to protest, "I'll wear the sneakers. Just for you."
Spencer grinned back, and gladly returned the next kiss Jon gave him.
action figures; Brendon/Spencer
"So Brent can't make it because he has a doctor's appointment, and Ryan's going to be a little late," Spencer said as he let Brendon into his house one afternoon.
Brendon scratched the back of his head. "So... do you want to practice a little by ourselves, or..."
Spencer shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Or we could hang out in my room. It doesn't matter."
Brendon blinked at Spencer, a little wide-eyed. The handful of times he had been over to practice, he hadn't been up to Spencer's room. It was almost a sacred place, that only Ryan and Brent got to see. "Okay," he replied, a little dumbstruck.
Spencer smirked, and lead the way upstairs. "So," he said upon entering the bedroom, "this is it. Nothing special about it, really. Just a room." He sat down on the bed, cross legged, and looked at Brendon.
Brendon looked around the room, taking in everything. Desk with school books, bookshelves with other books, dresser with tv, bed with Spencer, glass case with... "Whoa!" he exclaimed, practically skipping over to the case, even though it was only a few steps away. "Is those actual Star Wars action figures from the seventies and eighties?" He turned to look at Spencer, grinning.
This time Spencer scratched the back of his head, looking a little abashed. "Yeah. My grandma got them for my dad years ago. I got them from him for my sixteenth birthday."
Brendon practically beamed at Spencer. "You are officially the coolest guy in the whole world." He turned back to look at the figures, humming, as Spencer blushed.
paper clips; Jon/Brendon
"We need bling," Brendon announced one night. Spencer just rolled his eyes while playing his video game, Ryan completely ignored him and continued writing, and Jon lifted an eyebrow as he skipped a song on his iPod.
"You've been watching too much MTV, Brendon," Jon said, pulling one of his earbuds out. "What have we told you about that?"
Brendon pouted, sitting down on Jon's feet and wrapping his arms around the older boy's legs. "Not to watch it," he grumbled, propping his chin on Jon's knees. "But Jooon. I want bling." He pouted up at him, blinking his eyes several times which might have been his way of batting his eyelashes. "Get me some bling, Jon Walker."
Jon sighed, glancing at the other guys, neither of them looking back. Tugging out the other earbud, he pulled lightly on Brendon's hair. "Get up and we'll get you some bling."
Brendon beamed and bounced up, hugging Jon when the other boy stood up. "You're the best, Jon Walker."
Jon just smirked, hugging Brendon back. "Yeah, I know."
~~~
"Jon, have I told you that you're the best?" Brendon asked as he tugged on his bracelet.
"Don't pull, you might break it. And yes, several times this evening." Jon hooked the last two paper clips together, then looped the long chain so that it made a double strand. He placed the chain over Brendon's head and around his neck, causing the younger boy to grin happily at the necklace. "Ta-da. You have bling."
Brendon wrapped his arms around Jon's neck, causing the paperclips around his wrists to tinkle. "Jon Walker, you are the very best," he declared, planting a big kiss on Jon's cheek.
Jon laughed, reaching up to ruffle Brendon's hair. "Yeah, I know."
paint; Brendon/Ryan
"How is it that you're moving ninety-nine percent of the time, yet when I do your make-up, you're not moving at all?" Ryan asked as he dipped the brush into the jar of paint.
Brendon cracked an eye open, squinting at Ryan. "Because I don't want my make-up messed up. Duh." He closed his eye again as Ryan put the brush back against his face, painting a dark spot under Brendon's left eye.
"No, that's not it," Ryan mussed, dipping the brush again and adding more to Brendon's face. "When the professional make-up artists do it, you're talking and nodding your head, and they have to keep telling you to hold still. You don't do any of that when I'm the one doing it."
"Because someday I'm hoping that you'll notice that I'm absolutely hot and you'll lean over and kiss me." Brendon opened his eyes when the brush stopped in the middle of a stroke, to find Ryan staring at him. "Dude, I'm joking." He cracked a smile to show that he was.
"Oh. Heh. Right." Ryan went back to painting, although his stomach still felt funny. "So..." He let the question hang, peering at Brendon’s face.
Brendon’s eyes were both shut, a serious look on his face.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”
rain; Spencer/Ryan
"Why are you out in the rain, Ryan?" Spencer walked up to his friend, water-soaked hoodie pulled over his head.
Ryan continued to look up at the sky, water running his face and hair. "Do you ever think about rain, Spence? Where it comes from? I mean, I know it's water molecules and vapor condensating and that sort of science stuff. But what about the other stories? Like god crying." He turned his head slightly to look at Spencer. "Do you think god's crying, Spence?"
Spencer stepped in front of him, reaching up to wipe the water from Ryan's cheek. "Is that why you're out here? For the crying?"
Ryan glanced away, as if trying to hide what Spencer already knew. "Do you think he is, Spence?"
Spencer wrapped his arms around his friend, squeezing tightly as the slighter boy leaned against him. "I think so, Ryan," he answered, placing a kiss on his forehead. "I think so."
silver; Jon/Ryan
Ryan wasn't surprised to wake up to the sound of only two other people breathing. Brendon's snoring crossed the small space between the two bunks, and Spencer sighed in his sleep below Ryan. But no sound what-so-ever came from the bunk under Brendon. Ryan rolled over and peaked through the curtains. Sure enough, the lower bunk's curtains were pushed, revealing nothing but some rumpled up sheets.
Ryan would usually just fall back asleep, but for some reason he decided to get up. Carefully climbing down, he made his way to the front of the still and silent bus, grabbing a hoodie from one of the seats by the kitchen table, not paying any attention, and not really caring, whose it was. The bus door hissed opened, revealing a truckstop and mostly dark sky. Walking around the front of the bus, he found the missing person.
Jon seemed to be able to sense whenever the bus was stopped for more than five minutes. Then he would wake up, get out of his bunk, grab a hoodie and his camera, and get off the bus. Sometimes it was 2 am. Sometimes 4:30. It didn't really matter what time it was. He would take pictures of the truckstop they were at so that the driver could rest, the hotel parking lot, the venue lot, the slow moving coal train. He would just take pictures of whatever.
Jon also seemed to sense when someone was nearby. Without removing his eye from the viewfinder, he asked, "What are you doing up, Ryan Ross?" After snapping the picture, he lowered the camera and turned to look at the other boy.
Ryan shuffled up, hands tucked inside the sleeves of the hoodie. "I could ask you the same thing, Jon Walker," he replied, stopping to stand next to the other. "You're always up and out at insane hours.
Jon blinked, then smiled slightly, looking down at his camera. "You've noticed?"
Ryan blinked back, although more slowly, then shrugged. "Sometimes."
Jon looked back up at the sunrise that was peaking over the horizon. "I like to look for the silver lining on the clouds. I want to capture it."
Ryan glances where Jon was looking. "They look more pink to me."
Jon laughed, the sound echoing in the silence of the early morning. "Well, maybe not this morning." He smiled at Ryan. "So, again I ask, what are you doing up, Ryan Ross?"
Ryan looked at the horizon for a couple more seconds before leaning his head on Jon's shoulder. "Looking for the silver lining, Jon Walker."
poptarts; Brendon/Jon/Ryan/Spencer
"Pancakes," Jon said, leaning against the backboard of the bed and running his fingers through Spencer's hair, whose head was sitting in his lap.
"Too common. Plus, you've been spending too much time with Travis," Spencer replied without opening his eyes. Jon gently whacked him on the head. "Biscuits and gravy. Shut up, Ryan."
Ryan continued to laugh, blowing hot air across Spencer's stomach which he was using as a pillow. "Spence, do you really want something your grandma makes? French toast."
"Too French," was Brendon's answer, feet propped up on Ryan's stomach as he traced patterns on the sheet covering Jon's leg. "Poptarts."
The other three boys turned their heads to look at him. He blinked back. "What?"
Spencer sighed. "Brendon, we always have poptarts. Almost every single day."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "We're in a hotel. Not cramped up in a bus. We have to get room service."
Jon smiled crookedly. "They're right, you know."
"Wait, wait, listen to my logic. Shut up, Spencer, I do too have logic. If we order pancakes, or biscuits and gravy, or french toast, or whatever else, when the food arrives we'll have to get up, get dressed, and look like the four of us didn't share the same bed last night and have lots of hot sex. On the other hand," he said as he reached over the side of the bed and starting digging around in his bag, "if we have poptarts, we can stay in bed, and right after eating have even more hot sex until we actually do have to get dressed." He grinned as he brandished the slightly squished poptarts box that was in his bag.
Jon, Spencer, and Ryan looked at each other for a moment before Jon spoke for the three of them.
"Poptarts it is."
Fandom: Bandom
Characters/pairing: Every pairing possible for Panic. :D?
Rating: n/a
Word count: n/a
A/N: Hans gave me seven prompts. Each of them turned into a ficlet.
gravel; Jon/Spencer
"You know, if you wore real shoes, we wouldn't be doing this," Spencer commented as he leaned over Jon's foot with tweezers and anesthetic.
"They are real shoes," Jon replied, wincing a little bit as Spencer pulled another piece of gravel from his foot and dropped in the trash can. "Besides," he grinned, wiggling his foot until Spencer grabbed it to hold it still, "you like my feet."
"That's not the point here. The point is you need to wear real shoes." Spencer pulled out the last piece, then cleaned up the spots with the medicine.
"Of course it is." Jon moved so that instead of his feet sitting in Spencer's lap, he was. He grinned at the slightly frowning Spencer as he wrapped his arms around the younger boy's neck. "Why do you think I wear flip-flops all the time?" Spencer blinked, and Jon leaned to kiss him briefly on the lips. "Because you loooove them. Don't you deny it, Spencer Smith. I know your secret."
Spencer shook his head, but he smiled and placed his arms around Jon's waist. "At least wear some sneakers when playing basketball out in the parking lot with Brendon. Do you think I like picking gravel out of your feet?"
Jon grinned again, giving Spencer another kiss. "Of course you do," he replied. "But," he added, placing a finger on Spencer's lips as the younger boy opened his mouth to protest, "I'll wear the sneakers. Just for you."
Spencer grinned back, and gladly returned the next kiss Jon gave him.
action figures; Brendon/Spencer
"So Brent can't make it because he has a doctor's appointment, and Ryan's going to be a little late," Spencer said as he let Brendon into his house one afternoon.
Brendon scratched the back of his head. "So... do you want to practice a little by ourselves, or..."
Spencer shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Or we could hang out in my room. It doesn't matter."
Brendon blinked at Spencer, a little wide-eyed. The handful of times he had been over to practice, he hadn't been up to Spencer's room. It was almost a sacred place, that only Ryan and Brent got to see. "Okay," he replied, a little dumbstruck.
Spencer smirked, and lead the way upstairs. "So," he said upon entering the bedroom, "this is it. Nothing special about it, really. Just a room." He sat down on the bed, cross legged, and looked at Brendon.
Brendon looked around the room, taking in everything. Desk with school books, bookshelves with other books, dresser with tv, bed with Spencer, glass case with... "Whoa!" he exclaimed, practically skipping over to the case, even though it was only a few steps away. "Is those actual Star Wars action figures from the seventies and eighties?" He turned to look at Spencer, grinning.
This time Spencer scratched the back of his head, looking a little abashed. "Yeah. My grandma got them for my dad years ago. I got them from him for my sixteenth birthday."
Brendon practically beamed at Spencer. "You are officially the coolest guy in the whole world." He turned back to look at the figures, humming, as Spencer blushed.
paper clips; Jon/Brendon
"We need bling," Brendon announced one night. Spencer just rolled his eyes while playing his video game, Ryan completely ignored him and continued writing, and Jon lifted an eyebrow as he skipped a song on his iPod.
"You've been watching too much MTV, Brendon," Jon said, pulling one of his earbuds out. "What have we told you about that?"
Brendon pouted, sitting down on Jon's feet and wrapping his arms around the older boy's legs. "Not to watch it," he grumbled, propping his chin on Jon's knees. "But Jooon. I want bling." He pouted up at him, blinking his eyes several times which might have been his way of batting his eyelashes. "Get me some bling, Jon Walker."
Jon sighed, glancing at the other guys, neither of them looking back. Tugging out the other earbud, he pulled lightly on Brendon's hair. "Get up and we'll get you some bling."
Brendon beamed and bounced up, hugging Jon when the other boy stood up. "You're the best, Jon Walker."
Jon just smirked, hugging Brendon back. "Yeah, I know."
~~~
"Jon, have I told you that you're the best?" Brendon asked as he tugged on his bracelet.
"Don't pull, you might break it. And yes, several times this evening." Jon hooked the last two paper clips together, then looped the long chain so that it made a double strand. He placed the chain over Brendon's head and around his neck, causing the younger boy to grin happily at the necklace. "Ta-da. You have bling."
Brendon wrapped his arms around Jon's neck, causing the paperclips around his wrists to tinkle. "Jon Walker, you are the very best," he declared, planting a big kiss on Jon's cheek.
Jon laughed, reaching up to ruffle Brendon's hair. "Yeah, I know."
paint; Brendon/Ryan
"How is it that you're moving ninety-nine percent of the time, yet when I do your make-up, you're not moving at all?" Ryan asked as he dipped the brush into the jar of paint.
Brendon cracked an eye open, squinting at Ryan. "Because I don't want my make-up messed up. Duh." He closed his eye again as Ryan put the brush back against his face, painting a dark spot under Brendon's left eye.
"No, that's not it," Ryan mussed, dipping the brush again and adding more to Brendon's face. "When the professional make-up artists do it, you're talking and nodding your head, and they have to keep telling you to hold still. You don't do any of that when I'm the one doing it."
"Because someday I'm hoping that you'll notice that I'm absolutely hot and you'll lean over and kiss me." Brendon opened his eyes when the brush stopped in the middle of a stroke, to find Ryan staring at him. "Dude, I'm joking." He cracked a smile to show that he was.
"Oh. Heh. Right." Ryan went back to painting, although his stomach still felt funny. "So..." He let the question hang, peering at Brendon’s face.
Brendon’s eyes were both shut, a serious look on his face.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”
rain; Spencer/Ryan
"Why are you out in the rain, Ryan?" Spencer walked up to his friend, water-soaked hoodie pulled over his head.
Ryan continued to look up at the sky, water running his face and hair. "Do you ever think about rain, Spence? Where it comes from? I mean, I know it's water molecules and vapor condensating and that sort of science stuff. But what about the other stories? Like god crying." He turned his head slightly to look at Spencer. "Do you think god's crying, Spence?"
Spencer stepped in front of him, reaching up to wipe the water from Ryan's cheek. "Is that why you're out here? For the crying?"
Ryan glanced away, as if trying to hide what Spencer already knew. "Do you think he is, Spence?"
Spencer wrapped his arms around his friend, squeezing tightly as the slighter boy leaned against him. "I think so, Ryan," he answered, placing a kiss on his forehead. "I think so."
silver; Jon/Ryan
Ryan wasn't surprised to wake up to the sound of only two other people breathing. Brendon's snoring crossed the small space between the two bunks, and Spencer sighed in his sleep below Ryan. But no sound what-so-ever came from the bunk under Brendon. Ryan rolled over and peaked through the curtains. Sure enough, the lower bunk's curtains were pushed, revealing nothing but some rumpled up sheets.
Ryan would usually just fall back asleep, but for some reason he decided to get up. Carefully climbing down, he made his way to the front of the still and silent bus, grabbing a hoodie from one of the seats by the kitchen table, not paying any attention, and not really caring, whose it was. The bus door hissed opened, revealing a truckstop and mostly dark sky. Walking around the front of the bus, he found the missing person.
Jon seemed to be able to sense whenever the bus was stopped for more than five minutes. Then he would wake up, get out of his bunk, grab a hoodie and his camera, and get off the bus. Sometimes it was 2 am. Sometimes 4:30. It didn't really matter what time it was. He would take pictures of the truckstop they were at so that the driver could rest, the hotel parking lot, the venue lot, the slow moving coal train. He would just take pictures of whatever.
Jon also seemed to sense when someone was nearby. Without removing his eye from the viewfinder, he asked, "What are you doing up, Ryan Ross?" After snapping the picture, he lowered the camera and turned to look at the other boy.
Ryan shuffled up, hands tucked inside the sleeves of the hoodie. "I could ask you the same thing, Jon Walker," he replied, stopping to stand next to the other. "You're always up and out at insane hours.
Jon blinked, then smiled slightly, looking down at his camera. "You've noticed?"
Ryan blinked back, although more slowly, then shrugged. "Sometimes."
Jon looked back up at the sunrise that was peaking over the horizon. "I like to look for the silver lining on the clouds. I want to capture it."
Ryan glances where Jon was looking. "They look more pink to me."
Jon laughed, the sound echoing in the silence of the early morning. "Well, maybe not this morning." He smiled at Ryan. "So, again I ask, what are you doing up, Ryan Ross?"
Ryan looked at the horizon for a couple more seconds before leaning his head on Jon's shoulder. "Looking for the silver lining, Jon Walker."
poptarts; Brendon/Jon/Ryan/Spencer
"Pancakes," Jon said, leaning against the backboard of the bed and running his fingers through Spencer's hair, whose head was sitting in his lap.
"Too common. Plus, you've been spending too much time with Travis," Spencer replied without opening his eyes. Jon gently whacked him on the head. "Biscuits and gravy. Shut up, Ryan."
Ryan continued to laugh, blowing hot air across Spencer's stomach which he was using as a pillow. "Spence, do you really want something your grandma makes? French toast."
"Too French," was Brendon's answer, feet propped up on Ryan's stomach as he traced patterns on the sheet covering Jon's leg. "Poptarts."
The other three boys turned their heads to look at him. He blinked back. "What?"
Spencer sighed. "Brendon, we always have poptarts. Almost every single day."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "We're in a hotel. Not cramped up in a bus. We have to get room service."
Jon smiled crookedly. "They're right, you know."
"Wait, wait, listen to my logic. Shut up, Spencer, I do too have logic. If we order pancakes, or biscuits and gravy, or french toast, or whatever else, when the food arrives we'll have to get up, get dressed, and look like the four of us didn't share the same bed last night and have lots of hot sex. On the other hand," he said as he reached over the side of the bed and starting digging around in his bag, "if we have poptarts, we can stay in bed, and right after eating have even more hot sex until we actually do have to get dressed." He grinned as he brandished the slightly squished poptarts box that was in his bag.
Jon, Spencer, and Ryan looked at each other for a moment before Jon spoke for the three of them.
"Poptarts it is."
