Ryden Oneshots

Combustion

.:. Rating : NC-17 .:.

The car came to a stop and Spencer turned around from the front seat to look back at Brendon.  “You need to get your mind off of her,” he said, twisting his body around.  “Let’s all just try to have fun.”

Jon nodded his head, turned the car keys to shut the car off, and watched Brendon through the rear view mirror, “You shouldn’t be all depressed because of her.  You deserve better.  Plus, I never liked her.”  Spencer hit Jon on the shoulder and Jon shrugged and said, “What?  I always thought she was kinda a slut.”

Brendon sighed and mumbled, “Maybe you could have warned me then.”  He slumped down in the backseat and crossed his arms across his chest.  “Can’t we just order pizza and get drunk in Jon’s basement?” Brendon implored.

Spencer shook his head, “Dude, that’s so pathetic.  Come on, you’re so much better than that.”

“Please,” Brendon tried again and he gave a little pout.  Spencer’s firm stance didn’t waver, however, so he tried another approach.  He lowered his eyes and curled his legs close to his chest and in a small voice he said, “I just don’t want to be around people right now.”

Jon laughed.  “Bullshit, Brendon.  You need to stop moping over Allison.  She was a skank and sure, it sucks that she cheated on you, but you were always too good for her.  She did you a favor.  And now you, Spencer, and I are going to go out there and have some fun.  So come on!”

He threw open the driver’s seat door and slammed it behind him before he jerked open Brendon’s door and leaned across the backseat to unbuckle Brendon’s seatbelt.  Brendon sighed in resignation and allowed Jon to pull him from the car, but as soon as his feet hit the ground he dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  Just because he was there didn’t mean that he had to pretend that he was having a good time.

Spencer rounded the car to join Jon and Brendon and together they set off across the parking lot.  “You should be excited,” Jon told Brendon.  “Tom told me that there’s all this amazing shit here.  Like a hypnotist and some fire show where this hot chick hula hoops fire and sword fights.  Hey, tell you what,” Jon bounced, clapping Brendon on the shoulder, “you fight me in a sword fight and I’ll let you win.  Let you show off in front of all the ladies.”

“You’re so kind, Jon,” Spencer remarked, rolling his eyes.  He turned to Brendon and gave him a small smile.  “We’ll only stay as long as you want,” he promised.  “But at least an hour.  Anything less and I’ll know that you weren’t even trying.”

Brendon huffed, “It’s the fucking Renaissance Faire.  I can’t believe you two think this will be a good idea.  I haven’t been here since elementary school.  I bought a dragon for thirty bucks only to learn that it was just a lizard.  Fucking ripoff.”

“Well, you weren’t always the smartest kid, Bren,” Spencer joked.  “Plus the Renaissance Faire is completely different now that we’re older.  Back then it was all about dragons and doing assigned arts and crafts, but you’ll have more fun this time.”

“Really?  And why would that be?”

“Have you seen the costumes girls wear here?” Jon asked.  “I’ve seen higher necklines in strip bars.”

“Classy, Jon,” Spencer said and Jon flashed him a bright smile and winked.

Brendon raised his eyebrow as they approached the entrance to the faire.  A man wearing wide puffed out shorts and a shirt with pillowy sleeves stood to the one side, taking his ridiculous hat off to welcome visitors, the bright blue feather swooping down with each bow.  He tried not to laugh as the man welcomed them in old English, his accent losing its edge minutely towards the end of his phrases.  The man bowed and Jon bowed back, tipping the edge of his invisible hat.