Hold The Pose (Ryden, Joncer) [by zarah5]

Part 2

Haley gives him a hard look. “Like you aren’t stuck on the White Russian.”

“Stick to what you know, and you won’t be disappointed. Why do you think I stayed with you for three years?”

“Because I’m too good for you, ass.”

“Point,” Spencer says. They’re both grinning widely at each other, and Brendon glances down at his hands. Great, he’s surrounded by bickering, comfortable couples, and is thus looking precisely like the loser he is.

He leans casually back, trying his best to appear at ease, when the waiter approaches their table. The guy might as well be another guest, if it weren’t for his notepad. “Haley,” he says. “Spencer.” His grin is impressive.

They look up simultaneously to return the greeting while Brendon watches. To his delight, Pete Wentz isn’t as tall as Brendon thought he’d be. One the other hand, when he turns his smile on the rest of the table, it’s a force in and of itself. If Brendon’s heart weren’t already safe with Tom, never going anywhere, he might be tempted.

“Same as always?” Pete asks Spencer.

“You know it.”

“And you have no respect for the time I spent learning to mix drinks that don’t come up in The Big Lebowski,” Pete replies. It sounds like an argument they’ve had before.

--

By the time Jon joins them, Brendon is chemically relaxed enough not to drop his drink when he notices Tom peering over Jon’s shoulder. It’s such a shame Tom’s hot; Brendon’s crush would be a lot easier to dismiss if Tom were an ugly, crippled old guy with bad breath who couldn’t take a decent picture to save his life. On the other hand, Brendon might not have a crush on Tom at all, then, and that would kind of suck, too. It’s a nice crush to have.

Brendon’s life is so, so hard. Speaking of hard—

Ah, whatever. He sucks some more banana concoction into his mouth and waves in greeting. Spencer twists around in his armchair, and it’s only because Brendon knows Jon so well that he can detect the momentary flickering in Jon’s eyes at Spencer’s closeness to Haley. Maybe Brendon should have texted him a warning. He didn’t think it mattered just yet.

“What took you so long?” Brendon asks quickly, before any awkward silence can manifest. “Got lost in your wardrobe, or what? Also, oh my God, you need to try this banana thing, Jon Walker. So much better like this than any smoothie you’ll ever taste.”

“I thought you swore off bananas for good?” Jon tilts his head, then drapes his body over the armrest of Brendon’s armchair to make grabby hands for the drink.

“Not if they come with alcohol.” Brendon leans to the other side, clutching his drink tightly. He doesn’t relent even when Tom joins Jon, both of them greedily eying what Brendon bought with the money he earned wiping down Ryan’s kitchen. He shakes his head at both of them, tightening his grip. “And either way, this one’s mine. Go away and get your own.”

“No room to sit,” Jon says. “We’re missing a chair.” He pauses, deliberately. “I guess Tom can sit in your lap.”

Just why did Brendon ever think Jon deserved anything like fair warnings? He narrows his eyes. “Sorry, that spot’s all for your mom.”

“That’s not what yoursister told me last night,” Jon shoots back.

“Well, I make exceptions for your brother.”

“My brother’s the one who nailed your sister right before I did.”

“Gross, Walker.” Brendon shakes his head and sips at his drink, keeping it tauntingly out of Jon’s reach. After a brief staring contest, Jon throws his hands up and laughs while Spencer goes to politely ask the next table for a spare armchair.