FicWad

It had been a week since Brendon had kissed my finger and I swear he was doing these things just to egg me on.
He'd been flirting and brushing his hands against me and blinking with wide open eyes, and just - asserting his adorableness as much as he could. I didn't know that I felt like this. I honestly didn't - okay, that's a lie.
I do like him. I love the crinkles that form beside his eyes when he laughs and I love the way his dark eyes widen and sparkle when he looks at something. I love his smile which is far too big for his face and I love his full lips which cradle that beam of his. I love the way he looks across at me when we're sleeping and I love the way his nose upturns when he's properly smiling.
And the worst part is I think he knows all of this.
Why else would he reach and tap my nose to wake me up? Why would he insist that we stay in bed to watch movies when it's cold? Why does he burn entirely red when we talk about the time in the supermarket, and why does he never, ever deny that he has feelings for me when he's asked?
Nothing makes sense to me.
I turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower. It was nice in here. One tiny, metre square room, all to myself, just for twenty minutes or so. Just some time to feel happy and not have to see Brendon’s unfairly adorable face (Even though I’d probably run fifty miles to see him).
I rolled my head back under the hot jets and considered.
Maybe today would be the day Brendon confessed his undying love.
Maybe?
But I doubted that Brendon would ever reciprocate my feelings. Why would he? I’m just his friend. I’m not even a good guy either, but he is my best friend, and I do love him a lot.
I pushed my hands through my hair to relieve some of the stress tensed in my shoulders and began rinsing out the shampoo, pausing mid way after hearing mild giggling.
My shoulders froze. Someone else was in the shower room. Jesus Christ someone else was in the shower room. And that means-
“Damn.” The voice had a high giggle and my entire face burnt scarlet when it occurred to me who it was. I turned and glanced over my shoulder, my eyes meeting Brendon’s gaze before snapping back to myself. He’d only seen the back of me and frankly that was all he was ever going to see. I moved to face the wall, embarrassedly.
“B-Brendon, what are you doing in here?” I asked, trying to fake anger, when really I was just completely embarrassed.
“I thought I’d have a shower, but someone forgot to lock the door.” Brendon chuckled, almost wickedly.
“Then why are you still in here?”
“I didn’t realise you were having a burlesque show in here.” He replied. I groaned and pushed my forehead against the cold tiled wall.
“Get out,” I said, softly. Brendon moved over to the glass panes of the shower, which were steamed up, thank god. He wrote ‘No’ and a smiling face on the glass and pressed his hands against it with a childish grin.
What made this all worse is that he wasn’t staying to have a gander at my ass, he was doing it to bother me.
I banged a fist against the glass and Brendon jumped back, with a smirk. He held up his hands.
“Alright, alright, I’m going.” He grinned, winking at me before he left.
I just stood, mortified, and – um, well, a little bit turned on, actually.
Well, I was already in the shower..

Tonight when we sat together around the flimsly television, Brendon was loudly laughing on the phone again. I didn't bother to ask, of course- none of us did. We kept ourselves to ourselves. Once everyone had gone to bed, I sat there, on the moth eaten armchair, shivering in the cold. It was getting closer to Winter and it was freezing - I needed a blanket, but Brendon had them all in our bed. I needed Brendon really - he could be my blanket.
I finally gave up and turned off the annoying white noise, sauntering over to my room and waiting outside, knocking softly.
There was a laugh. "..Yeah. I think I really like him! Ha. Yeah, maybe. I don't know. Talk later." Brendon hummed quietly down the phone. I blushed.
Me?
Was he talking about me?
He did say he..
I entered once he was done and wandered to the corner of the room, hiding behind the door whilst I changed.
"Why do you do that?" Brendon asked, cooped up in bed. I paused behind the door, mid change.
"Well, I'm assuming you don't want to see my bare ass and junk." I replied, sharply, continuing to change. Brendon chuckled.
"Well, I’ve only seen one half of that list. It’s just, you don’t ever take your shirt off in front of people.”
Was he trying to get me naked?
"I don't think I need to get my chest out." I replied, gently, finishing getting changed and hopping into bed. Brendon turned over on his side, as if he were wanting conversation.
"That's the first time any guy has ever said that." Brendon smiled, with crinkled eyes. I rolled my eyes, lying on my back, hands across my chest. His eyes followed me.
"Why are you watching me?" I asked, softly. Brendon smiled broadly.
"Am I not allowed?" Brendon hummed, keeping his eyes fixed on me. I shut my eyes and rolled over, my back to him. I wasn't going to let him lead me on, even if I had a welling feeling in the pit of my stomach. There was a shift of covers and then; hot breath on my shoulder.
Brendon's hot breath. On my shoulder.
"It's really cold tonight, isn't it?" Brendon breathed, gently. I froze. The feeling in my stomach was manifesting and soon it wouldn't exactly go unnoticable.
I nodded. "Hmm." I responded, squeezing my eyes shut. He continued to stay close to me.
"We don't have any blankets." Brendon persisted. "I gave them to Jon and Spence."
I knew exactly where this was going, and I couldn't tell whether it was a bad idea or the best idea he'd ever had.
"That was a silly thing to do." I responded, tucking up my knees.
Hot breath on my neck. Hot breath on my neck.
"I know, I'm very silly." Brendon responded, in a gravelly voice. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to cry because he was so god damn hot or laugh because he was obviously trying to sound it. I think I'd go with cry. "But I have an idea."
My heart nearly missed a beat and my shoulders tensed. I used my silence to show him I wanted to know a little more.
"Just, for warmth, you know." Brendon murmured, rolling me to face him, pulling me close to his chest. I felt simultaneously idiotic and embarrassed, as well as entirely and ridiculously happy. I could literally hear his heart beat.
His /heart beat/.
"Are you warmer now?" Brendon's voice was soft and sweet.
I nodded. "I'm much warmer now, th-thank you." I murmured, my fingers shaking against his chest. His hands reached to grab mine.
"No reason to be scared," Brendon hummed, looking down upon me, and gazing. Time stood still before he leant in, and I did the same, and suddenly - I was kissing him.
My heart sank in my chest. His tongue tasted thickly of alcohol and it occurred to me how odd Brendon was acting. He didn't really want this, did he? He didn't really want me.
My head was pounding and my lips were still working against his, and his tongue was pushing into my mouth and against mine and - and then it was over. He pulled away from me, holding me against his chest. His fingers circled and played with my hair.
"You're so lovely." Brendon hummed. "So lovely, and beautiful." He sighed, happily, falling to sleep with his arms wrapped around my waist. I curled against him, even if I could still taste the sharp alcohol on my tongue. Even if he was drunk, i wouldn't pass up the opportunity..
Plus, it was just - incredibly cold.

"Ryan?" Brendon whispered, groggily. I was still cuddled into him, except he was more on top of me, and I was just - lied there. "What's.. Going.."
I wriggled a little from under him but with no success. "Um, not what you think." I whispered. "We just uh, we were cold."
Brendon let out a soft breath of relief, still lied atop of me as he reached and looked at the night stand.
"Oh, fuck." Brendon mumbled, clambering off of me and scrambling to the wardrobe, throwing clothes down onto the bed.
"What is it?" I asked, wriggling into a more comfortable position, feeling cold from the lack of contact. Brendon ripped off his shirt, fumbling as to get the new clean one on.
"I've got a date and I slept in," Brendon muttered, buttoning his shirt quickly. "Fuckity fuck."
And then my heart really did drop. It dropped, hit the floor and rolled away. It left me hollow. He really didn't care about last night. And he really didn't remember, either.
"Who with?" I asked, very quietly, trying to not let my voice crack. Brendon pulled down his pyjamas and I hid my gaze, because i wasn't one to peep, or watch as he dropped his boxers.
"Just a friend. Kinda been uh, talking to him for a while, decided we would have coffee.." Brendon mumbled, yanking on a clean pair of skinny jeans that hugged him perfectly.
"O-oh, I see." I whispered, dropping my gaze. It shouldn't hurt so much, but it did. The things he said to me - he didn't even remember.
He left quickly, shutting the door behind him loudly. Jon and Spencer called me from the living room but I didn't answer. I shifted over to Brendon's side of the bed and snuggled into the little dip he had left in the mattress.
Since when did I like him so much?
And why did I feel so angry even if he'd done not a single thing wrong?