The Young and Lost Club
013
When we first moved to New York, I lived with the guys in their loft apartment, but it became pretty clear early on that as much as I fit in with the guys, I simply could not live with them.
This was mainly because they were fucking pigs.
The bathroom was in a constant state of disarray, the kitchen had a perpetual pile of dirty dishes, the beds were never made, and the living space always looked more like World War III had taken place rather than a movie night.
As soon as I started making some good money on Steven Riley’s show, I found my current beloved apartment and moved there immediately.
But it was still somewhat weird. Max and I had lived together for years, and the guys were all like second brothers to me. I missed them, oddly, even though I still spent most of the weekend with them, and the occasional week day practice. And they missed me too, even though they didn’t really admit it straight out. It was more subtle things, like getting tackled to the floor by Brian and Taylor when I entered the apartment, or Max paying to have my very own key made so I could come over whenever I wanted.
And thus, Sunday Night Game Night was born. I’d come over, do some dishes, make a bed or two, make sure nothing awful was growing inside the refrigerator. In return, the guys let me soundly kick their asses in various videogames of my choice. Which was what we were currently doing.
“That was the doorbell,” I commented, pressing buttons on my controller furiously.
“Probably the pizza,” Brian said, doing the same. “Ah! FUCK YOU.”
“Oh suck it up, you bitch,” I said, triumphantly tossing the controller down on the couch and flexing my hands which felt stiff from playing for half an hour straight.
“No more Halo for you,” Brian grumbled.
“Yeah, yeah, just add it to the list of banned games I can’t play anymore because I’m too good at them,” I said, with a laugh, shoving Taylor’s head off my lap and getting up to go answer the door.
“Shut up,” Brian yelled, throwing a pillow at me. “It’s not our fault you’re like, a fucking idiot savant at video games.”
I picked up the pillow and threw it back at Brian laughing as it hit him right in the face and yanked open the door. “Hey how much…Spencer!”
I blinked. Spencer Smith was standing outside in the hall, along with Ryan and Brendon and a very confused looking Pizza Boy, who was being prodded by Jon.
“Well, hello there, Clark,” Spencer said.
“Hey guys,” Max said, appearing behind me. “Oh yeah, Clark, I invited them over for game night.”
“No really?” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes at him. “I thought they decided to pick up pizza delivery as a part-time job. Come on in, guys.” I shot a glare at Max which he ignored. We weren’t on good terms at the moment.
I stepped aside to let them in, Max leading the way to the living room. Brendon gave me a happy smile, throwing a quick look over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking at us (they weren’t, they were all too busy saying hello), before taking my face in his hands and kissing me hard. “Hi,” I said quietly, beaming at him.
“Hi, back.” He said smiling just as brightly as I was.
“Umm, that’ll be thirty dollars?” Brendon and I both looked up at the pizza boy who looked terribly awkward.
“Sorry, my bad,” I said snatching up the money off the table next to the door and handing it to him. “Keep the change,” I added, taking the pizzas from him, and shutting the door with my foot.
I smiled at Brendon and motioned for him to follow me as I walked to the kitchen. I put the boxes down on the counter and smirked slightly as I felt Brendon’s hands slide around my waist from behind, and turn me around to face him. His face was awfully close to mine, I could count eyelashes if I wanted.
“I didn’t know you were coming over tonight,” I said shyly. I hadn’t dressed up for game night, just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and my hair thrown up in some half assed ponytail. I hope I didn’t look too horrible.
He smiled. “Surprise?”
I grinned. “A good surprise,” I said, yanking on the collar of his shirt and pulling his lips to mine. I had intended for it to be a short kiss, but Brendon’s grip on my hips tightened and pulled me closer to him, so my body was flush up against his, and then we both seemed to remember some details from last night and after that, no kiss could really be that brief.
“Urie, wanna go play a videogame and stop molesting my sister? Ok, awesome, thanks.” Brendon and I jumped apart, to see Max, smirking as he leaned up against the door frame. We smiled sheepishly at one another.
“Um, I’ll just…yeah,” Brendon stuttered, reluctantly letting go of his grip on my hips and slunk into the family room.
“Wow, thanks for being an asshole, Max,” I commented, taking a beer from the fridge.
“Runs in the family,” he said, with a small grin.
I glanced at him. “Why’d you invite them? I thought you didn’t like them.” I said bitterly. I hadn’t told him exactly what had gone down a couple nights ago, but he knew I wasn’t happy with him, and that somehow, Brendon and I were even closer.
And we really were. Ever since the night we had our serious talk, Brendon had started sleeping over at my apartment most nights. We ended up actually sleeping together about two nights after that. I was actually nervous about it for the first time in a long time. Because I was vulnerable for the first time in a long. Because I cared about him more than I had cared for anybody else in a long time. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Brendon was just as sweet and kind as he always was, but I was, and I adored him even more for it. Sex was a weird subject for me, I was used to feeling used and stupid afterwards. I was used to sex reinforcing everything I believed about myself. I was hesitant to have sex with Brendon because I was afraid it would have a polarizing effect on us, and I was terrified of that.
But if anything having sex had made us both realize this wasn’t just some fling, some month long romance, but that this was something real. And it also made us feel like there was a ticking clock hanging above us though, telling us we were running out of days where we were simply a couple minutes away from each other, and so, we started spending all free time together.
I used to like having my privacy, and being alone. That’s why when I moved to my own apartment, I didn’t get a roommate or socialize with other people in my building. I liked the quiet, and I like having my own space. Even when Oliver and I were hot and heavy, we never spent the night at each other’s places, one of us would leave about halfway through the night. It was another defense mechanism Brendon had somehow managed to break through in an alarmingly short amount of time.
But I certainly didn’t mind. I liked falling asleep watching a movie together, I liked having Brendon there, I liked waking up with his warm body next to mine, I liked that he had gone ahead and started leaving half of his belongings in my apartment rather than his hotel room, I loved when he had to get up before me for an interview or something like that, and he would slide out of bed to go shower and kiss me goodbye half an hour later, his hair still damp, his breath minty with toothpaste. I liked when we’d invite Ryan, or Jon, or Spencer, or all three over and we’d all hang out and be dumb and go out to dinner.
I just liked being part of his life.
I liked being included in another group that didn’t consist of my three boys. And I cared deeply for all of them, even Spencer even though he didn’t like me very much; he thought I was too loud and abrasive, he didn’t trust me one bit. Of all of them, Spencer was the most protective of Brendon, Ryan was the best friend, Spencer was the older brother, Jon was somewhere in between the two, and after Brendon’s heartbreak with the whole Katie debacle, he was skeptical of any girl in Brendon’s life. Ryan and Jon had taken a strong liking to me though, inviting me out to lunch with them and “accidently” forgetting to invite Brendon along too (or so Jon said), and they no longer teased Brendon about spending so much time with me.
As for Pete Wentz, Jon had given him my cell phone number after our show, and he was keeping in touch. According to Max and Taylor (I refused to speak to Max about it), after the show, they had had a long talk about getting signed and what we were looking for in a label. In the end, Pete hadn’t offered us a spot (although Taylor seemed to think he wanted to) because we all had a distinct vision of how we wanted to be discovered and how we wanted our band to evolve, and it just didn’t match up with Pete’s visions. But he didn’t seem to mind, nor did he seem the least bit offended, and I was glad that he was making an effort to keep in touch with all of us.
Pete kind of grew on you. Like a fungus.
Max sighed hearing the bitterness in my voice and ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Look, I’m really sorry about the other night. I was out of line. I…I just don’t want to see you get hurt, alright? I’m sick of seeing you not get treated the way you deserve.”
“Max,” I said quietly. “I’m almost 23. I have to be able to make my own decisions.”
“I don’t care how old you are, you’re still my sister, and the only family I’ve got. Now look, I can see you like Brendon…a lot. And that’s why invited them, because I can tell you are getting serious about this, regardless of whether or not it’s practical. So I’m willing to give him a chance, because, you’re right: he seems like a really nice guy. And he’s crazy about you, it’s obvious. But I swear to God, if he hurts you, he’ll be the new poster boy for the eunuch population, okay?”
I laughed. “Well, then, thank you. For giving him a chance, and for inviting them here. It means a lot to me.” And just like that, Max and I were fine again.
He grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulders squeezing me to his side briefly, and leading me into the living room. “Let’s play Super Smash Brothers,” he suggested, tossing controllers to various people in the room.
“Fuck yeah.” I said happily, claiming one for my own.
“Jigglypuff rule applies for you still,” Taylor snapped at me.
“Whatever,” I grumbled, settling down, my back against Brendon’s legs.
“Jigglypuff rule?” Spencer asked, looking up from his controller.
“Clark got too good at every other character, so we can only let her play with Jigglypuff to make it a little more even.” Max explained.
“And I’ll still destroy all of you,” I said. “Be afraid, be very afraid.”
|||
“I,” Ryan Ross declared from somewhere on my living room floor, “am drunk.” It was 2 am, and Brendon, Ryan and I were all drunk off our asses. We hadn’t meant to get smashed, but somehow, Sunday Game Night had turned into a multitude of drinking games and shots and an all around drunken spectacle of all 8 of us. Jon and Spencer, being even more intoxicated than us three, were staying with the guys, and having a lack of beds, that meant Ryan had to come home with me, or share a bed with Jon.
“Fuck you guys,” I grumbled, from the couch I had collapsed on. “I have work in the morning.”
Ryan started giggling, which made me start laughing too. A drunk Ryan was something I had not yet witnessed: I had seen him anywhere from mildly intoxicated, to politely drunk, but never smashed, like he currently was, and frankly, it was hilarious. Ryan was one of those people who was funny in a very dry sense. He was ridiculously smart, you could tell, he had a way with words that made him so entirely unique and hysterical if you got to know him; his jokes were the type that took you a couple minutes to figure out, and by that point he had already moved on and it made you feel entirely witless and stupid sometimes. To most, he seemed reserved and maybe even cold, but the more you got to know him, the more you could appreciate him, and the more you caught his jokes.
But this drunk Ryan was a total opposite. He was giggling like crazy, and was acting…well, kind of like Brendon: hyper, silly, and childish. And together, Brendon and Ryan were like a comedy duo making me nearly pee myself in laughter.
It had always been funny to me that Ryan and Brendon had been best friends, because they seemed so opposite at first: Ryan was reserved, Brendon was rambunctious. But the more you saw them together, the more you could tell they balanced each other out. Brendon made Ryan sillier, Ryan made Brendon calmer. And then there were the times they let themselves loose: like now, as Ryan discovered my iPod and turned on some random pop song I had on there for god knows what reason, and they were currently dancing like they were at a high school prom, and there was no doubt why the two were best friends.
“Clark!” Ryan exclaimed as Brendon started grinding up on him and I screeched about my eyes being burned from the image. “Clark!” He yelled again over the music.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” I shrieked, trying to avoid looking at my boyfriend and his best friend grinding like horny rabbits.
“Clark, haven’t you heard of Rydon?” Ryan asked, laughing hysterically, and nearly stumbling into the coffee table.
“Oh my god, what the hell…” I said.
“People think we’re gay for each other!” Brendon exclaimed as if this was a totally preposterous notion.
“YouTube it!” Ryan said to me.
“No thank you, I’m getting a firsthand look as is,” I groaned. I was way too drunk for this.
“Its okay hubby,” Brendon said, and when I looked up, they were now slow dancing, trying not to laugh at one another as they gazed into each other’s eyes. “Someday she’ll accept our false internet love…”
“Oh my god, threesomes!” Ryan exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.
“Ahhh!” Brendon squealed.
“You drunk bastards, you are NOT fucking in my apartment.” I yelled.
Ryan jumped away from Brendon and onto the couch next to me. “Come on Clarky, don’t you want to have sex with me?”
“Hey!” Brendon said, leaping over the back of the couch and into Ryan and mine’s lap. “No. No. No. Ross you get away. No.”
“Fine,” Ryan whined, but as he got up, he blew me a kiss and shook his hips suggestively, while winking at me.
“Oh my god,” I said. “I’m friends with a bunch of idiots, my boyfriend totally would have a threesome with his best friend, and I’m going to be hung over as fuck tomorrow. I hate you all.”
“That is not true!” Brendon said. “You so don’t hate us all.”
“Clark?” Ryan yelled.
“What?”
“Are you aware we are totally music soul mates?”
“If you break my iPod Ross, I’ll murder you in your sleep.”
“I’m not going to break it!” He yelled, and then I heard something heavy fall on the floor. “Shit!”
“God. Damn. It.” I said. “Remind me to never invite you all over to my apartment again.”
Brendon laughed, nuzzling his nose into my neck, and biting the skin there lightly. “Well, next time, just let me come back with you.”
“Brendon,” I said, warning him, as his gentle bites turned into aggressive kisses. “I will not make out with you while Ryan is in the kitchen.”
“Pleaseeee?” He begged, trying to use his puppy dog eyes on me.
“No.” I said sternly, but then he looked so cute, I gave him a quick kiss on the nose. “Sorry,” I added.
“You suck.”
“No, I’m tired.”
“Then let’s go to bed,” Brendon said, standing up and holding out his hands to help me up.
“Ryan?” I called.
“Yeah?”
“You alright with the couch?”
“Sure.”
I smiled at Brendon. “Let’s go to bed then.”
|||
I woke up at 6 am, to my alarm blaring. “Fuck that,” I grumbled, and turned it off, grabbing my phone off the nightstand and sending a quick text to Steven Riley.
I felt an arm snake around my middle and I jumped slightly and then remembered Brendon was here, and I smiled as I snuggled into his chest. “Thought you had work,” Brendon mumbled, still half asleep.
“Sick day,” I murmured back.
“So I get you all day to myself?” He asked.
“I suppose so,” I said sleepily.
“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” Brendon said, sounding more awake now. He started planting kisses on the back of neck, his hands gently tracing the small amount of skin between my shirt and shorts. With a gentle nudge, he had me flat on my back and he was practically on top of me, our legs tangling together under the sheets.
I brushed his messy hair out of his eyes. “Bren, Ryan’s in the living room…”
“No he went back to the hotel at like 5 am. Apparently your couch is extremely uncomfortable.”
I smiled, sitting up slightly to kiss him. “Well in that case…”
Brendon grinned and bent down to kiss me again.
It was that moment I realized I was happiest I’d been in years.
♠ ♠ ♠
10 STARS?! Holy crap you people are amazing!! Thank you so so so much : )This chapter is for the amazing and wonderful KissTheStarsWithMe (go read her stories, shes amazing) and semisweet (same with her).
This is kinda fillerish, but necessary. Drama-rama will be back next chapter.
Sorry for the wait, it's getting towards the end of the semester and I'm busy busy busy. I'm sure you all are too, but if you could leave a little comment, I'll love you forever.