Good Old Fashioned Bratt Pat

"Hey, Brian," Matt says to his lead guitarist who sits over on the couch next to him in the back lounge. They're watching the newest Batman movie, and Brian seems to be engrossed by the caped crusader who's currently getting his kevlar punched in by the masked villain Bane.

Brian's deep brown eyes are fixed to the bright television as he takes a gulp of his beer, "Hey Matt." He replies simply and Matt just rolls his eyes.

"I was just wondering about something..." Matt continues and Brian just hums, eyes not moving from the screen even once. Matt doesn't blame him, it's a great movie, but he's seen it quite a few times already, thanks to Johnny. Anyways, he's got too much on his mind right now to be able to get into a movie.

"Wondering about what?" The dark haired man replies uninterestedly, and Matt is kind of thankful for that, considering the embarrassing question he's about to ask.

"Um," Matt scratches his recently shaved head nervously and Brian glances over for a split second, eyes narrowed at Matt's weird behavior.

"Dude fuck, what is it? The suspense is killing me seriously." The handsome musician smirks a bit and Matt stares at his friend for a moment, seeing how into the movie he is.

Maybe he should just shut the fuck up and let Brian watch the movie?

In fact, he's surprised Brian hasn't said that to him yet.

Fuck it.

"Why um, why do you always slap my ass on stage?"

Brian's choking on his beer the second the last word leaves Matt's mouth.

Choking with laughter that is.

Matt is glad the light's are off, otherwise Brian would be laughing even more at the blush that's gracing the singer's cheeks.

"Dude, I don't slap your ass on stage." Brian says with a grin, before finishing off his beer and tilting his head back to get every last drop, unaware of the gawking man on the other side of the couch.

Matt's so tempted to lean forward and kiss that beautiful neck, but that would probably only get him punched in his own neck in return.

"Yes you do." Matt says forcefully, stunned Brian would even try to deny something that's recorded on fan's camera's every night they play a show.

On the rare nights Brian doesn't slap Matt's ass, Matt usually asks Brian if he's okay, because he slaps Matt's ass nearly every night. Then Matt realizes that he should be asking himself that and not Brian, since he's the one wondering why Brian didn't slap his ass that night.

"No, I give you a good old fashioned Bratt pat." Brian says in a matter of fact tone, as he stands from the couch and Matt watches him in complete confusion. That dumb opened mouthed look.

"A what?" He finally says.

Brian grins and gives him a mischievous wink before he leaves the lounge to go get another beer, leaving Matt there to repeat the words over to himself in a near whisper.

"Brat pat?"

The next second, he's up and heading for his bunk to get his laptop. He accidentally kicks a sleeping Zacky in the head and the guitarist cusses him out, to which Matt replies with a muttered sorry. Not his fault Zacky lost the bet and got the bottom bunk.

Matt takes his laptop out into the front of the bus just as Brian is leaving from there, and the shorter man asks if Matt is going to finish the movie. Matt says he'll be there in a minute and flops down onto the couch, eager to google this 'brat pat' Brian speaks of.

All he gets are pictures of a fucking comic book series called "Pat the Brat" and he wonders if it has anything to do with what Brian was talking about. He seriously fucking doubts it, but he doesn't know what else to look up.

He's so fucking curious that he just might go ask Brian himself, and get a better answer than some sexy ass wink making for a cool exit. Hm, well that was a pretty sexy answer.

Matt rolled his eyes at his wandering thoughts, biting his lip in mild irritation with his totally stupid situation.

Good old fashioned brat pat?

Mother of fuck what does it mean!

Matt groaned in frustration, giving up, he got up to go and ask Brian again. Figuring this out seemed more important than his dignity right now and he didn't even give a shit.

He didn't even know what he was trying to figure out anymore. Why Brian slaps his ass on stage, or what the fuck a brat pat is. Both would be nice.

“Brian.” He reenters the back lounge and Brian looks from the TV over to Matt, once again only giving the younger man a split second of his attention in that glance before his eyes are glued to the screen once more.

“Gonna finish the movie?” Brian says absentmindedly.

“What's a brat pat?” Matt leans against the doorway, arms crossed as he waits for Brian's response.

Brian meets his eyes almost instantly, flawless grin spreading across his face in amusement, “You looked it up didn't you?”

Matt feels his face flushing right away and is once again thankful for the dark.

“Yeah...But I couldn't find anything.” He looks down to the floor, gently kicking his foot along the carpet idly.

Brian's grin grows, “How'd you spell it?”

Matt's head perks up, “Like brat and...pat.” He says, eyes narrowing because I mean, isn't there only one spelling for each of those words...?

“Try it with 2 T's.”

“In which wo--”

“You figure it out.”

Matt glares and turns around, figuring he could just try both ways. This would have to do for now. If he still couldn't find anything, he'd strangle it from the guitarist throat.

This time he gave 'brat' 2 T's and that only got him an annoying amount of pictures of fryers or pans or some shit. So he tried giving the 'pat' 2 T's and that didn't help either, all he got was more pictures of the comic books and some rock band he didn't know.

He's about to toss the laptop at the wall, when Brian emerges from the back, empty beer bottle in hand. He chuckles when he sees Matt leaned over the laptop with an angry look on his face, “Still nothing?” He get's another beer before seating himself next to Matt on the couch.

Matt glares over at him, “Good old fashioned brat pat? Should I just look up that entire sentence? Is it a reference to something?”

Brian grins against the beer at his lips and nods.

“What was that nod for?” Matt is watching the guitarist closely.

“Yes it's a reference.”

“To?”

Brian can't help laughing, highly amused with his friend, “Me slapping your ass on stage."

Matt's face falls, “Brat pat is a reference to you slapping my ass?”

“Yes.” Brian is holding himself back from laughing out loud and Matt can see that, which only infuriates him more.

“You fucking ass, just tell me what it is!”

Then Brian loses it and lets out his laughs, not caring if the other guys wake.

“Fuck you,” Matt snaps, moving his attention back to his laptop, “I'll find out you little shit, just wait.” He scrolls viciously and Brian continues to snicker as he looks over the singer's hunched shoulder, clearly trying to hide the screen from Brian's view.

“Why don't you type in Avenged Sevenfold with it.”

The words leave Brian's mouth and Matt slowly turns his head to find the other man is grinning like an idiot. Matt thinks he just might strangle Brian after all.

“Excuse me?” Matt's voice is low.

Brian lets out a short chuckle, “Just fucking do it, bitch. And make sure the brat has 2 T's.”

“Bitch?” Matt punches him in the shoulder playfully and Brian gets him back before motioning to the laptop.

“Just hurry so I can go finish my fucking movie.”

Matt gives Brian the evil eye for a few more moments before relenting and doing what Brian had suggested.

What follows is Matt screaming a little louder than necessary and almost tossing his laptop to the ground but Brian saves it amidst his laughter and tears. Some clearly edited pictures of Matt and Brian covered the screen and Brian was a little bummed to see none showing the Bratt Pat.

“Dude those pictures are totally edited we never did any of that! Did we...?” Matt looks over at Brian with wide eyes and Brian grins, shaking his head.

“No you dope, some creepy fans did it. Anyways, I'm done with your silly shenanigans.” He moves to stand and Matt grabs his wrist.

“Wait.”

Brian looks down at the other man, “What?”

Matt lets the wrist go,“None of that explained what 'Bratt pat' is, is it like...” He feels stupid for even saying it, “Like our names combined like Brangelina or some shit?”

Brian snorts a laugh, “Well Bratt is, apparently.” He looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head at the thought that some of their fans are just too weird.

Matt thinks for a moment, “Oh!” He claps and points to Brian, “Pat like a pat on the ass.”

Brian sets his beer down and begins clapping, mouth hanging open comically as he shakes his head with mock amazement as he looks down at his totally ridiculous best friend. Matt glares up at Brian and tells him to fuck off as he shuts his laptop screen.

“Still doesn't explain why you slap my ass on stage.” He says as he stands from the couch, laptop under his arm, watching Brian from the corner of his eye.

“Bratt pat.”

“What?”

“I pat your ass I don't fucking slap it, what do you have a marshmallow ass and my nice gentle pats feel like slaps to you?”

Matt blinks for a moment, “Your nice gentle pats?”

Brian nods once, grabbing his beer and heading for the back lounge, Matt right behind him.

“Fine, I'll stop giving you Bratt pats.” The raven haired man shrugs.

“What? I never said--” Matt stops himself.

Brian turns his head and fixes Matt with a knowing smile, making Matt blush for the millionth time in the past 30 minutes.

“You know you like my Bratt pats, Matt.” Brian says once they've settled back into the back lounge, Brian's eyes are back on the TV, but obviously not distracted enough to keep from teasing Matt.

“Oh fuck off already. I'm over it.”

“No you're not.”

“Shut up.”

“...Bratt pat.”

“Fuck you.”

THE END