Chapter Text
"What do you mean 'leave early'? What do you need to leave for, school starts at 8 doesn't it?" Brendon's mother interrogated while fixing the collar of her son's pink polo shirt.
"Yes but uh... I'm in a study group! We have a meeting." Brendon spoke confidently.
"Before school?" His mother asked even further while tilting her head to the side then licking a couple of her fingers to slick Brendon's raven hair back, who leans away in horror.
"Mom- it's just before school. Just today, I swear."
Then Brendon's dad chimes in while adjusting his tie, "You're doing good in your classes, correct? Consider your priorities, though school is still important. It's just ridiculous to have study so early in the morning. Do I need to talk to your tutor?"
Brendon's eyes widened and frantically shook his head, "uh, no!..sir."
It grew silent as their car pulled out of the driveway and down the street.
"You're not leaving." His father stated.
"But-"
"That is final."
Brendon huffed and crossed his arms. Gazing out the back seat window, he imagines Ryan's disappointment. Wouldn't it be worse if it didn't even care?
Sitting on a dark wooden pew, sandwiched between his parents, Brendon ironically can't stop thinking about the other boy.
I have to be there, he thinks.
"Quit shaking your leg, it's rude." His father scolds then pays back attention to the priest up front, reading a verse from the bible.
"...The Spirit clearly says that in later times some will abandon the faith and follow deceiving spirits and things by demons..." the priest’s voice echoes.
Why should I listen to him? Brendon thought. He didn't realized he actually scoffed and some old lady in front of him turned around to give him the side-eye.
Brendon would have teased her if his parents weren't less than two inches away from him.
Nobody ever answers Brendon's questions. At first, they just dismissed him because about every child has questions and it gives parents a further chance to manipulate them but when you're eighteen and not just taking everything you're told at that point, that led Brendon to trouble. About everyone in the church knows. Brendon isn't particularly silent about it. But he doesn't care. If they can't answer his rational questions, what does it say about their oversized book?
He can't stay here a minute longer.
He looks at his watch, it's 6:20.
"I have to use the restroom." He gets up but crouches, "excuse me..."
When he makes his way through bumping knees and occasionally stepping on toes, he does head to the restroom because he doesn't want to trail off to the exit where it obviously isn't the restroom.
He's not making that mistake again.
He catches a glance of his reflection in the mirror. He lets out another scoff then ruffles his dark hair, styling it back to its usual bangs sprawled across his four-head. He has been told it makes his hair look like a helmet, that they could just lift it off his head but it doesn't bother him. Anyone's hair could be a helmet.
His eyes look fatigued from the lack of sleep through his cherry-colored glasses and his plump, round lips are dry. He really wishes they were accompanied by none other...
Wait, thinking of, he really needs to get outside before Jon leaves him.
Which is his friend who he asked to wait for him outside of church, and that he's coming out no matter what.
Jon, moved by his determination at the time, agreed.
Brendon slips out the bathroom and out a side door, invisible to the people reciting verses from the Book of Mormon.
Jogging up to Jon's car, he sees him roll down his window and sticked his head out, waving his hand up in a pissed-manner.
"Hey, man! What took you so long? It's cold as balls out here."
Brendon laughed as he shuts the passenger door behind him, "I said I'd be out here. And your balls being blue isn't my fault." He teasingly leaned close to Jon's face who then places his hand flat on Brendon's face and gently pushes him away.
"Says you, man. I just picked you up from church. You've got no bite."
"Not after today." Brendon smirks.
"Oh! Please, I don't even want you thinking about that in my car. Have your fantasies elsewhere." Jon rolls his window as if he's letting something out.
Brendon chuckles and turns up the radio where Fall Out Boy is playing, "Don't worry about it dude, I haven't even gotten that far yet."
Brendon gives him directions to the rightful address.
"You're not coming with?" Brendon leans onto the driver's window.
"Nah, I'll watch you guys practice another time. Have fun though! Let me know what your parents say about this. Ha."
Brendon backs away so Jon can pull off, "and use a condom!" Jon suddenly shouts before speeding off.
What was that abo-
Someone taps on his shoulder.
Flinching and snapping his head around, Brendon finds it's Spencer.
"Hey, Brandon! I was waiting for you."
"Really?"
"Yeah, Ryan figured you got lost so he asked me to stand outside so you could see me. Then I had to take a piss when you got here so..."
Brendon wanted to ask why Ryan couldn't stand outside but he just wanted to get things moving. He doesn't think too much of how whipped Spencer is for the other either. They're childhood friends, of course.
Spencer leads him down to his basement where everything is set up. Music is really Spencer's thing too, huh?
It seems they were in the middle of a session & Ryan was ripping it at a short solo.
The raven-haired boy, in gaiety and awe, didn't make his entrance noticeable to ruin the moment.
He looks so damn sexy, Brendon bites the insides of his cheeks.
A couple seconds after he had finished and Brendon clapped ecstatically. He exhaled, realizing he forgot to breath.
"Oh, hey Brendon! Finally made your way here?" Ryan waved and took a swing out of his water bottle, Brendon watches as his atom's apple bobbed.
"Uh... yeah! There was like, traffic." Brendon scratched the back of his neck, feeling a bit tired of lying.
But it's never that easy.
"Well, we were just about to wrap up, actually. Would love to stay but the secretary said she'll call my dad if I'm late again..."
Brendon could hear the gloominess in his voice.
Ryan continues, "But whatever..." he lifts his guitar over his head. "I like your tie by the way." He points to Brendon's blue tie that rests atop his pink polo shirt. Brendon also looks down at his khaki pants. Brendon would rather be naked right now.
"Yeah, my parents are a bit much." He tries to explain. This is even more tough when the some casual shirts he has are still bible-rated. He'll have to wear them inside-out or something. But he also has a few band shirts and blank ones.
Ryan flops on the leather couch next to Brendon, "Do you have your uniform with you? Spencer could totally lend you his if you need it."
Brendon looks over at Spencer who seems to just be listening to them and shrugs at Brendon then heading to the stairway. "C’mon." Spencer motioned to Brendon to follow, who respectfully did so.
They walk up the stairs to the real second floor of the house.
“He’s a handful, huh?” Brendon speaks after an awkward moment of silence.
"You must really like him. I don't blame you though, Ryan is pretty captivating.” Spencer states suddenly. “He's like a magnet that draws you in until the force suddenly lets you go, dropping”
Brendon is pretty amused by Spencer’s little rambling, as if this is something he thinks about often but to himself. And Brendon feels like there was something unspoken to the last part, something about how he never let go of Spencer. Almost belittling Brendon.
It's a bit too early to think about all this.
Brendon just needs a uniform.
After he's finished changing, he finds that the clothes don't fit him too bad. They're roughly the same size except Spencer is a bit taller.
Heading back downstairs, they find Ryan at the front door.
Brendon suddenly realizes what's missing, "where the hell is Dallon?"
“I’m right here.” Dallon appears from the dining room entry. “I was eating… I’m surprised you made it. How did you make it out of church, dude?”
Brendon’s eyes widened and threw Dallon the shut up glare.
Shit. They probably think I’m a freak. And not the good kind.
“Dude, you go to church? That explains the easter outfit.” Ryan laughed.
Brendon crossed his arms in defense and pouted, “hey! My parents make me go. I don’t believe in any of that shit.”
Ryan reaches up to ruffle the shorter boy’s hair, messing up the fixing he had done earlier. Brandon doesn’t think he’ll temper with his hair at all any time soon. “Chill out, man. I wouldn’t really care if you did, at least you’re not an asshole.”
“Toss that over?” Spencer points to the key hanging on a hook next to Dallon, who then tosses it over to the drummer.
“I call shotgun!” Dallon sprints out the door.
“Awe, I’m usually Spence’s passenger seat princess…” Ryan trails behind then turns to Brendon. “We can have our next practice this weekend. You’ll make it, right?” He teasingly pokes Brendon's chest before they split off to opposite ends to Spencer's car.
Brendon smiles, "I won’t miss it for anything.”