Casual Affair

I’ve had many hangovers in my life. Some were worse than others, including a little bit of vomit, brain searing migraines, and an aversion to light that could otherwise lead others to believe I had assumed the life of a vampire. The one I had after that night at the bar was probably somewhere in between my best and worst.

There wasn’t any vomiting, at least not that I could remember, and I felt okay when my eyes opened from my slumber on my bunk and I was met with the sunlight streaming in from the blinds. My head didn’t feel like it was splitting; more like it was considering tearing apart but hadn’t quite decided its position on the matter just yet.

But then Louis barged in to my bunk.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” I swear he was yelling; his voice reverberated all around the bus and my head, and I grabbed my forehead in an effort to keep it together. Louis just cackled and rolled in next to me, pressing so close into me I wondered if I might suffocate.

“Get the fuck out,” I groaned, trying in vain to pull my pillow over my head to offset the pressure growing behind my eyes.

Louis tutted and flicked my nose, ignoring my wince and continuing in his giggling. “Now, now, Elizabeth, that’s not very ladylike,” he chuckled. He stretched out and rested his cheek on his palm, wearing a smirk that probably made all the ladies swoon but made the acid in my stomach want to jump up my throat. “Please tell me you remember last night,” he pleaded, looking as giddy as a kid who discovered they actually liked the mystery flavor of their favorite candy.

I squinted, trying to rack my brain for any memories of last night. “I vaguely remember yelling at Teal,” I muttered. That memory made me smile. Boy did it feel good snapping at her. I was sure to get shit for it as soon as I saw her or Matt, maybe even Greg, but I could deal with that.

Louis nodded with a grin. “Oh, I wish I had been there,” he swooned. “Matt said it was so funny. He said Teal was so mad when he burst out laughing after you left but he couldn’t help it.” His eyes twinkled and he wiggled his eyebrows. “You sure had some fun last night, didn’t you?” When I didn’t answer he poked my neck with a giggle. “Grigs, you got a massive hickey.”

My hand shot up to where he was poking in horror. “What? Shut up, no I don’t!” Panic settled in my heart and I tried to remember more about what happened after I stormed away from Matt and Teal. I kind of remembered being grabbed, and my back was sore like I had bumped into the wall, but a hickey? Where in the fuck— Who in the fuck—

Fuck. Brendon.

“Fuck,” I groaned. I covered my face with my hands. This couldn’t be real life. Had I seriously made out with Brendon last night? That almost wasn’t what pissed me off—I was more livid that I couldn’t remember the damn thing. Lord knows I imagined it enough over the last few days.

Louis’ eyebrows rose even higher on his forehead in amusement. “Why are you so freaked out? It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve made out with a random on tour before.”

“That’s not—wait, what? A random?”

Louis nodded, shifting in bed onto his side. “Yeah man, fucking creeper just lurched at you outta nowhere. He started sucking your face off right away. Me and Brendon were looking for you—you should have seen his face when he found you. Nearly punched the fucker out.”

What a fucking drunk cliché. Of course it hadn’t been Brendon who had kissed me; the universe wasn’t that kind. Who knew what weird saliva I had circulating around my tongue at the moment.

But still—Brendon had saved me from whoever my lip attacker was. And it sounded like he had been pissed. Those had to be good things, right?

“Brendon pulled the guy off of me?” I asked. Clarification was everything.

Louis seemed bored now, already having gotten his kicks by reliving my outburst at Teal. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. We were looking for you and he saw the guy pinning you against the wall and just flipped shit. He yanked him off and said some pretty not nice things. You were so out of it and didn’t even fight him when he carried you back to the bus.”

“I guess I owe him a thank you,” I mumbled, still rubbing at my neck. Maybe I’d cover it up with some foundation before I sought him out. Better yet—maybe I’d just find a turtleneck and be done with it.

Louis just shrugged and slinked out of the bunk. “Sure, if you want. Everybody is just wandering around today until the show. He’s bound to be around here somewhere.”

It was a struggle getting out of bed; worse still was the struggle getting dressed and making myself look presentable; and even harder than both of those things was the struggle of making it off my bus and onto the pavement outside without breaking my neck. Everyone else was out and about doing their own thing, but I could hear the strumming of a guitar coming from the back of the Panic! bus. Seemed as good a place as any to begin my search.

Brendon didn’t look up when I knocked on the doorframe leading into the back area of the bus. I couldn’t tell if he didn’t hear me over his guitar or was purposefully ignoring me. I didn’t take well to be ignored on the best of days, and so took his silence as an invitation to walk on in.

“Hey,” I said once I had sat down next to him. He nodded his head, not necessarily in my direction, but I decided to accept it as the only greeting I’d get. I cleared my throat and looked down at my sleeve, deciding it would be a good idea to tear off that strand of thread that was glaring at me.

“So, um, thanks for saving me from that rando last night,” I said. “I don’t even remember that guy grabbing me, so—“

“Liar,” he smirked. He didn’t drag his eyes away from his guitar strings, but I still felt their magnetic tug.

“What?” I asked, not sure I had actually heard him.

He plucked a few more notes in a rhythm I didn’t recognize. “I said you’re a liar. You remember damn well when that guy dragged you into your make out sesh.” He shook his head and finally his eyes landed on my face. I was not at all prepared for it. His eyes were strained, looking torn between amusement and some fury I couldn’t believe was directed at me.

“Are you mad at me or something?” I asked. “What’s up your ass?”

He scoffed and turned back to his guitar. I couldn’t help but notice how his pick was striking his strings a little too harshly. In no mood to be slapped by a snapped guitar string, I scooted away from him. The movement didn’t seem to go over well with him.

“Mad? I’m not mad at you. Why should I be mad at you? I’m not your fucking mother, you can do whatever you damn well please.” His tone definitely sounded mad, contrary to what he was trying to argue. “I just think it’s irresponsible for you to be making out with random dickwads when none of us even know where you are.”

I could feel my cheeks beginning to burn. Normally I had no shame when it came to my sexual exploits—of which, the guys liked to remind me, there were quite a few—but hearing Brendon call me out made me feel a shame I never expected. It felt like I had disappointed him, and for some reason that idea made my stomach roll over in harsh waves. But there was no reason for him to be making me feel that way.

“You’re being a jerk,” I said. We both knew I could have used a much deeper word, but it would have to suffice—the red in my cheeks hadn’t yet risen to my eyes to make me treat him to some old fashioned Grigsby cursing.

He just shrugged and kept strumming on his guitar. “I’ve been called worse.”

“I can believe that.” I watched his face, trying to catch a glimpse behind his eyes to determine where this sudden fury was coming from, but he wouldn’t stay still long enough for me to get a good observation. “Whatever, I’m not gonna sit around and wait for you to stop being a dick right now. So, thanks for pulling the guy off of me, and I’ll see you later.”

I moved to stand up and head out, maybe back to my bunk for a nap or anywhere where Teal wasn’t, but he reached a hand out and snagged my wrist. With a quick flick he pulled me back down onto the sofa, making me nearly fall into his lap. Luck, however, decided that would not be the day my ass and his crotch would become acquainted, and I instead landed against his hip.

“You were super drunk.” His guitar was once again unceremoniously placed to his side as he faced me. His eyes still held a tang of fury behind them, but it had simmered into a dull state of pissed off accompanied by a shred of pained amusement.

I blinked. “No shit, Sherlock. I practically radiated tequila.”

He chuckled, though it wasn’t the usual laugh that made my stomach smile. “I know, I saw you sucking the lime. Just like I saw you sucking that guy’s face.”

“Well, Mister Pissy, at least that was the only thing I was sucking.”

He winced and pushed me further away before standing up. “We can all be grateful for that.” I rolled my eyes and stood up again, this time without any interference from Brendon. “Where are you going?” he asked.

I barely glanced back on my way out. “To get you some tampons or some shit. Obviously being on tour with a female this long as led your cycle to get all out of whack.”

“Be a smart ass all you want!” he shouted after me as I walked down the hall. “But we both know it was my name you were saying when you were kissing him!”

I made sure to slam the door on my way out. Hard.

--

I love it when they scream. As creepy as that sounds, it was the crowd’s screams that fueled my fire on stage. Every shriek was another shockwave to my heart that drove me into a temporary insanity. I didn’t like to see them suffocating each other with their moshing, but I loved seeing them move together in one big peaceful wave of bodies, bouncing along to my songs and singing until their lungs were sore.

The guys and I were getting a lot better at the bantering between songs. Greg seemed to be coming out of his shell on this tour; instead of awkwardly strumming on his guitar as I stroked his arms, he had started moving along with me and making faces both at me and the crowd. Matt was earning quite the fan base with much winking and some Miley Cyrus inspired tongue-thing, much to Teal’s displeasure. And Louis…

He was just as wild as ever.

“You all ready for Panic! at the Disco?” I sighed into the mic. The crowd screamed, just like they did every night in every city when we reached this point in our set. Still, it never got old.

I grabbed the mic and walked around the stage a little, killing time as the guys checked their tunings for the next song. “That Brendon Urie, huh?” I said, to several hoots. I chuckled and brushed my hair out of my face—my god, the sweat. “That is one sassy motherfucker.”

Greg chuckled into his mic, readjusting the stand closer to him. “I’m sure it’ll come as a surprise to no one that those two have difficulty getting along.”

The crowd roared out and I giggled into the mic again. Not gonna lie, one of the most forced giggles I’ve ever managed. “That’s what happens when you put two brilliant people together. He just can’t get up to my level.”

We cracked a few more jokes and played more of our songs. I managed to get Greg to reach our boner quota of the night, and before our last song I reminded the crowd of our upcoming album. We exited to a stadium full of cheers and escaped to our dressing room as we came down from our high.

Teal was perched on one of the couches, legs and arms both crossed and one foot tapping impatiently against table leg. Evidently she still hadn’t forgiven me for my outburst the night before, although I hadn’t really technically apologized for it, nor did I intend to. The scowl on her face didn’t fade even after Matt pressed a quick kiss to her forehead on his way to the fridge for some water.

“What’s up with you, babe?” he asked. He tossed the boys water bottles before gently handing one to me, knowing full well I was as good at catching things as a rookie baseball player with butter fingers.

“Nothing,” Teal huffed. Her eyes raked over me, taking in the way my shirt clung to my stomach thanks to stage sweat. She tugged Matt closer, eyes still locked on me as she whispered in his ear. “I just don’t like watching her grinding up on you like that all the time. It’s degrading.”

“Degrading to who?” I asked, ignoring the fact that she was trying to be discrete in expressing her hatred. When would she learn that discreet and Grigsby did not go together?

She glared at me and patted down some of Matt’s hair. “It’s rude to eavesdrop, Lizzie.”

“You’re literally two feet away from me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I just think it’s funny how you refuse to dance like that at bars but when there’s cameras on you, you don’t care about grinding. But when I do it—“

“God, you make me sound like such a monster.” I pulled back my hair away from my neck, wincing at the feeling of it sticking stubbornly to the skin. I lowered my voice until it was gruffer and glared at her. “How about I just grind your bones to make my bread? Then we’ll both be happy. I’ll be the monster you want me to be and you’ll have shut the fuck up for once.”

She gasped, feigning offense, and I decided I didn’t care to linger much longer. “In the interest of keeping the band together, I’m off,” I said, grabbing a jacket.

“Where you going?” Matt asked, ignoring the glare Teal sent him for acknowledging me.

I shrugged and stormed out. If I stayed any longer I’d just say even more bad things to Teal, and while the guys seemed to sometimes get a kick out of it, I had more respect for Matt than constantly bashing his girlfriend in front of him.

Luckily there were only a few more days until we made it to a hotel for the first time on the trip. A few more days, and then I’d have my own room for the night, and I wouldn’t have to listen to Teal’s giggles, or her nasally voice, or her breathy sighs as she and Matt humped in the bunk across from me.

Somehow my feet led me to the edge of backstage, stationed next to Zack. He raised his eyebrows at me as I approached, seeming ill at ease with my casual appearance by his side. “Hey there, Grigsby,” he said. “Are you…are you here to watch the show?”

I just shrugged. The sassy comment I had on my tongue evaporated when my eyes landed on the stage. The lighting, the backdrop, the music…it was all fantastic. But not as fantastic as he was.

Brendon was a force to be reckoned with. He moved more fluidly than I could even imagine; he was moving with the music, head thrown back in pure bliss at performing. You could practically see the steam of his soul vaporizing from every word and settling over the room; it put the people in a trance. Hell, it put me in a trance, in so much of a trance that I didn’t realize when Brendon had done a double take when he saw me.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen,” he chuckled at the end of their song. “If I’m not mistaken, it looks like Miss Elizabeth Grigsby has taken it upon herself to watch our set for the first time this tour.”

I could hear him speaking, I could see his mouth moving, but I was too mesmerized. I could still just hear him like poetry, and see his lips brushing against each other as he spoke—soft yet chapped, gentle yet biting.

“You’re totally raping him with your eyes,” Zack said, poking me in the side. It was the contact necessary to shake me back into reality, and I looked over at him with wild eyes, still caught in the transition.

“What? No I’m not. Shut up. You are.”

He just laughed and shook his head at me. “Ever the eloquent one, Grigs.”

They were singing another song now, and it distracted me yet again from a witty retort. Their entire show distracted me, up to their last notes and even after the encore. The bastards even tricked me into singing along with some of their songs, too. I couldn’t understand what had happened.

“Nice of you to watch us for once, Grigsby,” Brendon said once they’d made their way off stage. All four of them grinned at me, suits sticky from sweat, with Brendon once again being the exception having had stripped of his shirt and opting instead to bare his chest. Which was in itself just as distracting as the rest of the show.

I cleared my throat, hoping to cut out any traces of arousal. “Yeah, well.” I switched my gaze to Dallon, who was much easier to look at. “You guys sounded great. Maybe I’ve been a little harsh on you.”

Dallon smiled and wrapped an arm around me in a quick hug. “Thanks, Grigs. You guys sounded amazing, as always.”

I ruffled his hair, pleased to find my stomach was settling back into its normal place south of my ribcage. “Always the charmer, Weekes.”

He laughed as he pulled away, eyeing Brendon’s back as he stormed away. “He’s been in a mood all day,” he frowned. He turned to me with a sigh. “Has he said anything to you? We can’t figure up what’s up.”

I shook my head, feeling my stomach plummet further south. I liked rollercoasters, sure, but my poor belly could only handle so much excitement. “He hasn’t said anything to me,” I lied, “but I could talk to him, if you want.”

Dallon nodded. “Would you mind? It’s eerie when he’s quiet. Very off-putting.”

“Sure. I’ll go corner him,” I said. I scrunched up my nose, taking in their sweaty appearance again. “Unless you guys wanted to go in a change?”

Kenny shook his head. “Nah, we’ll go out and take pictures with the fans. They won’t mind a little B-O.” They waved and then took off, following Zack to engage in an unannounced meet and greet with some fans. I saw Louis’ head bobbing along with them and figured that meant my guys were tagging along.

That meant plenty of uninterrupted time to give Brendon the what for.

He had tugged on a tee shirt by the time I made it to their dressing room, and was in the process of tugging on a pair of jeans as I slammed the door behind me. I swear I heard a squeal coming from his direction when I turned back around to face him after clicking the lock.

“What the fuck, Grigsby?” he yelped, falling against the couch in a quick effort to tug his pants up. It took a lot of willpower to avoid glancing towards his crotch in his haste, willpower that I didn’t have—so of course I looked. And from what I could tell in that moment, Sarah was one lucky bitch.

“Calm your tits, Urie,” I sighed, rolling my eyes and walking further in. I crossed my arms, attempting to appear very unamused and pissed off with him, but I had to admit—it was endearing, and somehow ironic, to see him so panicked at my presence in his dressing room. Dude needed to tour with chicks more often.

Actually, I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of that.

“What are you doing in here? Kinda changing.” He finished up the last button on his jeans and straightened into a better seating position.

“It’s been implied you’ve been a little bitch all day. I’ve been sent to inquire what exactly is up your ass at the moment.” I scrunched up my nose again, giving him a look. “Metaphorically speaking, of course. I’m not sure we’re quite at that point yet.”

He rolled his eyes and moved over to the mirror. “I’m fine, thanks. Shouldn’t you be headed out to the meet and greet?” He ran his fingers through his hair, effortlessly fixing it in a retro poof. I moved closer to him, knowing from experience that if you wanted to break a guy, proximity was key.

“Brendon,” I said, my voice much lower than I anticipated it coming out. He looked at me through the reflection, still messing with his hair, and I brought my fingers up to his, gently patting down one poof. “What is going on in that perfectly coiffed head of yours?”

His eyes followed my fingers as they got caught in his, and we both watched our reflections as our linked fingers carried down until they lay between us. It was the closest we had come to really holding hands, and I wasn’t exactly sure how we had gotten to this semi-intimate moment when I had come in with the intention of yelling at him, but that was the norm. I never understood things when it came to Brendon.

He opened his mouth, and I could see a thread of spit reach between his lip and his tongue as he hesitated in his response. “Grigsby,” he muttered, looking down at our fingers. He sighed and glanced back up at me, looking almost shy. “Elizabeth,” he said, stronger this time.

I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to expand upon his pause. “What?”

He bit his lip, and then he was pushing me away—but as he pushed, he followed, until we fell against the wall. I gasped when his hands shot down to my hips to buffer my fall, and then his face was coming closer, and his lips looked really soft, and I slapped him.

And then I quickly cursed my entire existence and wondered what in the fuck I ever did to garner such ill luck within the universe.

“Ow! Jesus, Elizabeth!” he whined, pulling away and rubbing at his cheek.

I could feel my chest quickly becoming bruised from the thumping of my heart, and I reached a hand up to grip my collarbone in an effort to keep it from thudding out. “You fucking tried to kiss me!” I yelped.

He blushed—there was no way he could argue against that—and looked away. “Did not! I, uh, I tripped.”

I shook my head and pointed a finger at him. “J’accuse!” I yelled. “You just tried to fucking kiss me!” The dots connected in my hand and I gasped before slapping his shoulder. “You’ve been pissy all day because of that random last night!”

He held up his hands, more in an effort to subdue me than admit defeat. “Would you hush up? You’re delusional.”

“Tell me you weren’t jealous.”

“You want me to be a liar?” His eyes were like a fire when he looked at me, and his response was so quick and unexpected that I stuttered. Damn him for always catching me off guard by being honest!

I tried to regain my cool with a sniff. “Why does it even matter to you? I can kiss whoever I want.”

A second later I was back against the wall, and his chest was against mine and his lips were centimeters away from mine, but the look in his eyes told me I had no reason to fear another attempt at a kiss. “Do you even remember when I pulled that fucker off of you?” he breathed. His hands were wrapped around my wrists, keeping me pinned against the wall.

“Get off of me,” I spat. I tried wiggling out of his grasp, but he didn’t let up. Instead he pressed closer to me, until I could feel what I had earlier caught a glimpse of against my thigh.

“I don’t like you kissing other people,” he said. “Especially not drunk random dickwads. Don’t do it again.”

“You don’t get to make that call,” I snapped.

“You were moaning my name,” he retorted. Fuck, had I really been? Damn that tequila! It would be a while before I drank that shit again. It betrayed my innermost thoughts far too often.

Instead of letting on my embarrassment, I offered him a dry smile. “In your dreams, Urie.”

He glared at me and pressed me harder against the wall, catching my gasp between his lips. I felt high, like I was about to pass out; when he pressed his lips against mine, I knew I must be drunk again, because his lips were as sweet as the nectar of the gods. They moved so effortlessly against mine, harsh at first, and then softening when he had decided I wasn’t going to slap him again.

I couldn’t have slapped him if I wanted to. My arms were jello; it was impressive enough that I had managed to whip them around his shoulders, digging my nails into his hair and messing up the poof he had tried so hard to keep up.

So many thoughts flickered behind my eyelids as I closed them with a moan.

One, Brendon Urie is kissing me. He is kissing me in so artful and delicious away that any and all recipes I ever look up following this will never compare to the sweetness that is this caress, and his tongue has forever ruined me for all other men.

Two, Brendon Urie is kissing me. He is married to a beautiful woman, and he is kissing me against the wall of his dressing room as our bandmates entertain our fans walls away, and there is no one here to remind us just how wrong this is.

Three, this is wrong. Very wrong. He’s married, and I’m not the one he’s married to, and we’re kissing right now like we’re the only two people in the world.

And four, I am kissing Brendon Urie. And even if it’s wrong, it feels pretty damn right in this moment, because any kiss that could make a woman this weak in the knees and this oblivious to the world couldn’t possibly be wrong.

He pulled back, pressing a final chaste kiss against my lips as he did. We stared at each other, in shock and still pressed against the wall. Brendon chuckled. “Um, so that happened.”

I pushed him off, not sure if I was disgusted or ecstatic. “You’re an asshole,” I panted, and he only grinned.

“Gonna slap me again? Or regale me with an encore?”

I glared at him and shoved him off, immediately mourning the loss of his heat but knowing it was for the best. “Fuck yourself.” I stormed over to the door and yanked it open to Dallon’s surprised face. He had a fist raised to knock, and seemed shocked to see me so angry.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

I stormed past, feeling only a little bad as I shoved Dallon and Kenny out of the way. “Brendon Urie is a fucking asshole,” I snapped. I stomped down the hall, fists clenched at my sides and lips still tingling.

“So she’s back to hating you, then?” I could hear Kenny ask.

“Please,” Brendon’s voice echoed, raising for my benefit. “She couldn’t hate me if she tried!”