Mikey is sort of this spindly awkward mass of hotness, and Brendon totally has a plan, okay? It's a good plan, one of his very best, no matter what Spencer says - Spencer's always harshing on his groove, seriously - and Brendon's totally a master at seduction.

He pulls out all his tricks; puppy eyes, bouncy hugs, lap naps! - lap naps, seriously, and those are, like, total indicators of the sexin', except with Ryan and Spencer, eww, and lap naps would totally be sexy with Jon, but Jon's got, like, this rule, so Brendon's lap naps with Jon are also strictly, sadly platonic, but otherwise. Otherwise, lap naps totally mean stick your hands down my pants and marry me forever, everyone knows this. Pete even glares at him. Pete gets it, but Mikey just sort of cocks his head and smiles this little bemused smile.

So the plan – the awesome plan, shut up, Spencer – does not seem to be working quite as well as Brendon would like. He's pretty sure it's Pete's fault. Pete's totally monopolizing all Mikey's free time, and he doesn't even want into Mikey's pants, and, honestly, there's something deeply wrong with that.

Brendon goes to Plan B.

Plan B involves a higher risk of rejection and hurt, but Mikey lets him sleep on his lap. Like, all the time, so Mikey is not averse to Brendon's boy-parts being in close proximity to his own, so Brendon's betting on Mikey's complete obliviousness, and not his, like, firm disinterest in Brendon as a possible boyfriend, bedmate, handjob giver, denizen of naked land, wherein Mikey is naked and the land is Mikey's bunk.

"I am not sleepy, Mikeyway," Brendon says. This is a huge part of Plan B. He crawls into Mikey's lap and drapes himself just so, and Mikey blinks down at him, sticky.

"Okay," Mikey says.

"Okay." Brendon nods, yawns, because the not sleepy part is totally a lie. It's, like, freaking three in the morning and he'd sang his little heart out on stage earlier and all the performance adrenalin is steadily seeping out of him. He can barely keep his eyes open.

However, Plan B involves some proper open-eyed groping. Some declarations of intent, so Mikey doesn't think he's, like, looking for the remote between his thighs.

Mikey brings his hands up, pets Brendon's back, and that's nice, oh so nice.

Brendon hums, squirms closer, hooks his chin over Mikey's shoulder. He noses Mikey's neck, and Mikey smells pretty horrible, and Brendon doesn't think he showered after their show earlier, but that's okay.

Brendon yawns again. Mikey's hands are under his shirt.

"Mikey, Mikeyway," Brendon says, "lap naps mean I love you," which, you know, isn't exactly in the script, but whatever. It's direct and to the point.

Mikey laughs. It's not an uncomfortable laugh, either, like Brendon's heard when Ryan starts tossing words like pastiche and solipsism and hobo around, or when Bill gets drunk and handsy and also, apparently, Welsh. So that's good.

"That's good to know," Mikey says, and okay. Okay, Brendon is the best planner of plans ever. Spencer can kiss his ass.

 

[ back to stories | leave feedback on livejournal ]