Title: Urie, Champion of Ristin!
Summary: Apparently the karma punishment for Brendon getting to spend the night is witnessing the Way brothers suck him into the insane world of Live Action Role Playing.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Author's Notes: When I was writing The Commoner and The Scribe, this was a scene I had envisioned, but it never really fit. So when you asked for a Christmas fic, I knew it was the perfect opportunity to actually write this.
Bob isn’t particularly surprised when he gets woken up at nine in the morning on Saturday. He believes that the world has a system of checks and balances. That’s different than saying the world is entirely fair, because it’s not. It’s more like for every poor happy person there will be a rich miserable one. Or his wrists are shitty as hell, but he doesn’t have to participate in a whole variety of awful high school activities. Or Brendon’s family are a bunch of dickholes, but he and Spencer and Ryan have all been accepted early admission to the same college, and they’re going to get an apartment together. Life isn’t fair or right, but it evens out.
In this case, it’s one of the first times Brendon’s slept over at his house. It is the first time Mom hasn’t made Brendon sleep on the couch. It’s taken a while for her to accept that they’re fucking like woah, but last night she just asked Brendon to accept something, and what she held out was a pack of condoms. Bob doesn’t see the point in them, they both lost their virginity to the other, and they’re not open. Bob doesn’t scorn Mikey or Ryan for their lifestyle, and they don’t do it to them. Everyone scorns Frank, but that’s different. But he knows he doesn’t want what Mikey has, and is positive Brendon doesn’t either. Brendon took the condoms anyway, and after that she left them alone.
So of course after having great sex with Brendon and getting to fall asleep on his great mattress with his supportive pillows and Brendon curled into him, he wakes up obnoxiously early to the sound of his four best asshole friends bursting into his room. Because that’s the way life works.
“We’re going to Roundview park!” Gerard shouts in introduction.
Frank adds, “yep. We’re all going. Get up, grab your jeans.”
“No.” There are so many levels of no that Bob would be talking for fifteen minutes if he described them. Talking that long would wake him up, and seeing as it’s before noon on Saturday and he needs to be asleep, he’s not even going to start.
“Come on! The battalions are waiting.”
“Yeah. Me and Gee and Ray are part of Ristin, the flame guild.”
“The what? I’m sorry, I’m still half asleep.”
Bob groans into his beautifully soft pillow. He’s fucked now. You can't give Brendon opportunities to romp around and think he won't take them. He might as well give up now.
“We’re part of the flame guild. You know what a guild is, right? Like, a group of people that practice the same skill and hang out because of it and make sure there’s strength in numbers. Like a union, before there were unions. Frank joins sometimes, but he’s not pledged. Bob’s never tried. But dude, guess what? I called Akiro, and she thought it could be good strengthening exercises. I mean, we’ll stop whenever you need a break, but how awesome is that?”
“That is completely awesome and I’m in,” Brendon answers Gerard for him. “How do I get to be in though? What do I do?”
“Oh really? Fuckin’ A. Okay, we’ll get you an outfit. You can’t pledge until you’ve proven yourself worthy in battle, but we’ll rush your progress, help you out. Right Mikey?”
A little less than an hour later they’re circling the park, trying to find somewhere to park. Bob doesn’t even consider pitching in to feed the meter. He’s giving enough in this situation, thanks.
On the short walk in, Brendon can’t stop waving his equipment in the air. He’s by far the most enthusiastic; Gerard and Mikey look more tense about the battle soon to start. “Look at my sword! Bob! Bob. Bob. Bob. Bob. Look at my sword! Bob!”
He’s bouncing. It’s equal parts cute and utterly ridiculous. Which sort of sums up his boyfriend in four words. He grins, then bounces on his heels then waves the sword in his face again. “Bob, my sword! Look at my sword.”
Bob snaps. He can’t help it. “Fucksakes. It’s Gerard’s spare sword, I’ve seen it like five hundred fucking times.”
“But not with me holding it!” Brendon smiles again and bounces again
Mikey frowns, a slight crinkle of his mouth. “It's not your sword until you buy it off Gerard, man.”
“Or I can steal it off his hot steaming corpse!”
Brendon runs the few feet separating them from the other three, and bops Gerard in the head with the sword about thirty times. He’s clearly hyperactive as fuck right now. Bob’s not too concerned about it. Brendon knows their energy levels are different and it hasn’t been much of an issue. It’s his personality as much as it is his disease. And if he does want to spend the energy he normally needs for balancing school, work, and making music with Spencer and Ryan playacting like a wizard, at least they’re in a place where Brendon has other people to play with him.
Mikey slides behind him and puts his sword to Brendon's throat and murmurs quietly “yield.”
Brendon immediately drops the sword, throwing himself onto the grass. He wriggles in place on his back for a minute. Bob’s dick gets interested, after a few months of training to know that a writhing Brendon is a good thing he can’t help it. If anyone notices they don’t say anything. Though really, they probably can’t see much under the borrowed tunic. It’s not a theory Bob’s willing to test by looking down, he’s much happier just assuming it’s fine.
Brendon stops writhing to look directly at Mikey. “So this is me yielding. Is this how to yield right? Um, properly, I mean.”
“No.” Before his face has a chance to fall, Mikey continues “but that is how you would react to a quazzm spell.”
“Ohhh, what’s that?”
Mikey holds his hand out to help Brendon get up, and all four of them huddle, Ray walking backwards so he and Mikey and Gerard can begin to explain the other major spells the other guilds use. It’s almost worth it, to see how happy they are. If he actually was a self-sacrificing person, he’d probably be super thrilled. As it is, he’d still rather be sleeping.
But if Bob is reluctant Frank really doesn’t want to be here. Bob knows the only reason he is, is because he fears his friendship with Mikey and Gerard will be fucked up if they find someone to hang out with that likes their weird ass shit. He wouldn’t be half surprised if Frank starts talking shit about Brendon by the end of the day. Bob won’t stand for it, of course, he’ll kick Frank until he cries. But he is expecting it. Frank could maybe lose Mikey and not freak out, though Bob doubts it. But Gerard? Frank would do just about anything to not lose the spot as Gerard’s best man.
They automatically fall back, trudging compared to Brendon and Gerard’s bounding. Frank smirks, obviously interested in making himself feel better. Because he’s a dick, that involves being bitchy to the people around him. “Look at your boyfriend, man. He’s so hyper, so excited. Imagine how good he'd be in bed right now. he'd probably make you come like five times in a hour. Too bad we're dressed in robes like retards, and he's going to be running around the woods for the next four hours."
Bob shrugs. “Well, maybe knight Bob can give him a blowjob in the woods.”
Frank cackles “That won't be era appropriate. You need to be fuckin’ era appropriate, Brendon's eating this shit up with a spoon. He’s worse than Ray was. And he'll be too tired by the time it's over. You got cockblocked with a foam shield dude.”
“At least I have sex. Might not be today, but me and Brendon fuck all the damn time. When was the last time you got laid? Oh, that's right, Christmas break. And you didn't even like it, because you were too busy mooning over Gerard.”
Normally he’d probably hold off on the Gerard digs, wait until his irritation levels were higher. But they’re pretty high now, considering. He’s sleepy, and Frank’s a dick, and Frank’s also right that Bob’s plans for waking up to fuck are completely decimated.
“I’m not gay!” For emphasis Frank starts whacking Bob with his halberd.
Bob’s not dumb enough to believe him, but neither is he dumb enough to tell Frank he’s full of shit. That’s the quick way to change the situation from bickering to actual upset and anger. As much as he doesn’t actually want to be here, Bob doesn’t want to end the day before it really begins. Brendon and Gerard and Mikey and Ray don’t deserve that. Hell, Frank doesn’t really deserve it. It’s not his fault that he’s too terrified to admit to what he actually wants.
In the end, Bob settles for turning sideways and bodychecking Frank to the ground. “Shazzam, motherfucker!”
“We’re in the damn fire guild. None of the fire spells are ‘shazzam’. Trust me, I know,” Frank says with a groan.
“Do you really care?”