bandomstuffsit

Title: Homesick At Space Camp
Author:

annemaris
Pairing(s): Brendon/Mikey
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Word count: 13,000
Summary: Brendon knows that this station is different from his home one, but he really didn't expect to run into a disoriented werewolf on his way out to the grocery store.

Brendon is sleeping on the couch. He was very vocal about it when they got in from the cheap all-night furniture store that Spencer insisted they had to visit because apparently they needed at least one bed on top of the couch. Spencer is aware that he's sleeping, he has to be. He's sleeping, he is not awake. It's too early to be awake.

Telling himself that does nothing to block out the sound of Spencer rummaging around in the kitchen. "We're out of milk," Spencer calls. Brendon grumbles and pulls a couch pillow over his head. The pillow is small and not very efficient when it comes to blocking out noise, but it's the only one they have. Spencer brought it with him from home. The couch they found together in this station's version of a thrift shop, and it's old, really old, but comfortable. Brendon wishes they could have found a bed there.

"Brendon," Spencer calls again.

"I'm asleep," Brendon shouts back, moving the pillow away from his face.

"We're out of milk," Spence says, appearing in the doorway.

"Asleep," Brendon sings, dragging out the word. It's not like they need milk. It's not like Brendon needs it. Spencer can go and get it. He closes his eyes again and stretches.

"You drank the last of it."

Brendon's sure he didn't. He might have drank a bit of it, but—

"Brendon."

Brendon sighs and pushes himself up on his elbows. "Can't we just order it?"

"We don't have the credit to waste." Spencer seems tense, and Brendon sits up, abruptly feeling guilty. They've been here for a couple of days now—doing perfectly fine with just the one couch, thank you—and Spencer didn't have to come, he didn't. Brendon knows that. No matter how Spencer keeps insisting that he's not just here for Brendon, he's still here because of Brendon, and what if none of the places they applied to will call back, and what if they'll run out of credits, and what—

"Brendon," Spencer says, and sighs. "It's fine. Can you just go and get us some milk?"

Brendon pushes himself to to his feet, and rushes over to Spencer, grabs his arms, mock-serious. "I can, Spencer. I can."

Spencer sighs again, tries to push him away.

"I will get us some milk," Brendon declares grandly, and Spencer's lips quirk up. Brendon beams.

~

Brendon really hates the weather here. The station itself is great, there are a lot more jobs available, and clubs to go to—and pubs to potentially play in, but he doesn't allow himself to think about that, not yet—and the prices here are better than in the station he grew up in. The weather, however, is horrible.

Sure, they've only been here for a few days, but it's been cold and rainy, and Brendon doesn't understand why anyone would choose this kind of weather. He pulls his jacket tighter and hurries onward. He's just a couple of blocks from the big department store near the ship docks when he hears a moan.

He freezes, his brain screaming, "Zombies! Run!"

The sound is coming from the alley he just passed, and fuck, Spencer's going to yell at him, and with good reason, but Brendon turns back and peeks around the corner. He just wants to see the zombie before he has to run for his life.

It's not a zombie. Or, at least, it doesn't really look like one. It's a guy, skinny and pale, curled up on the ground, but trying to push himself up onto his elbows. He's completely naked.

Brendon's disappointed for a second—not because of the whole naked thing, but he'd really been hoping to meet a zombie—and then his brain kicks in again, and he takes a step forward. Fuck. What is he doing? Fuck, Spencer's gonna be so mad.

"Hey," he calls out, and the guy freezes. Brendon knows he should just walk away, but— "Are you— Do you need any help?"

The guy raises his head, slowly. It's dark, the light from the main street doesn't reach the guy, and Brendon can't really make out his face. He takes a step closer.

"I'm— I'm fine," the guy says, voice rough.

"No offense, dude, but you don't really look fine."

The guy doesn't answer, and Brendon squints at him, tries to make out his features. He seems to be a bit taller than Brendon; sharp cheekbones and messy hair.

"Where am I?" The guy has managed to push himself up to his knees, and he's panting, trying to catch his breath.

"Near the second landing dock. Uh— Dude, I'm just checking, but— You do realize you're naked, right?"

Brendon cringes the second he gets the question out, it's not really like anyone could miss the fact that they're not wearing any clothes— Except that one time when he and Spencer had managed to get their hands on some Starwhale cider, and Brendon had almost gone to school naked the next day, so. Actually not that unlikely.

The guy doesn't answer, and he's staring up at Brendon. His body has gone tense, and Brendon takes a step closer, because he's a fucking idiot. Somehow it seems to make the guy relax, though, and he sags a little. "Who are you?"

"Brendon," he replies without thinking. Whatever, it's just a name, it won't hurt. It doesn't really seem to matter next to— "Man, what happened to you?" He can see the bruises and scratches all over the guys arms, now, on his legs.

The guy abruptly pushes himself up to his feet then, but stumbles almost immediately and goes down, hard. The yelp he lets out sounds more like a dog's, and Brendon frowns, hurrying forward to make sure he didn't really hurt himself.

"Shit, dude, are you okay?"

The guy is panting again, like he's in pain, and Brendon crouches down next to him.

"Hey. Hey, what's your name?"

The guy squeezes his eyes shut for a long moment, and doesn't answer. When he opens them again he's looking right at Brendon, and Brendon suddenly realizes how close he is. The guy's eyes are unfocused, though, clouded over. Brendon repeats the question, just to get some sort of contact. Contact should be— Yes, that's what he needs to do. Probably.

"Mikey," the guy says, finally, and starts to get up again.

"Whoa, hey, hey, easy." Brendon puts a hand under the guy's—Mikey's—elbow to help keep him steady. He doesn't expect Mikey to lean into him, but the guy is pretty out of it, so. "Seriously, man, what happened?"

Mikey looks like he's on something, and the cuts, and the whole... being naked thing— He might have just gotten into a fight, but Brendon can't help but feel there's something more.

"I changed," Mikey mumbles, and Brendon furrows his brow.

"Changed?" he repeats. What the fuck?

"I— I don't know." Mikey's breathing heavier, and he leans harder against Brendon, like he can't help it. Brendon freezes a little, because seriously, Mikey is seriously naked. Like. So naked. "It just—"

"What are you talking about?" Brendon asks. "What are you, a werewo—" He cuts off abruptly.

Brendon used to read tales about werewolves, myths from Earth. When he grew up he found out that the myths were true, just slightly different here, in space. There weren't any werewolves on his station, but. Well, apparently he'd just found one here.

"Fuck, are you— Seriously, you can't— Fuck, really? A werewolf? Really?"

Mikey obviously misinterprets his tone; he snarls a little and starts to pull away, even though he's still wobbly on his legs.

"Hey, no, I'm sorry, I didn't— I've just never met, uh. Forget what I said, seriously, can I help you? Aren't you freezing? Here, I can totally give you my jacket. Do you have anywhere to go?"

Brendon places his hands gingerly on Mikey's sides—not looking down, not looking down—and steps away a bit, trying to keep Mikey steady at the same time. He seriously looks like he'd collapse any second, but he's shaking his head. "I'm fine, you don't have to—"

Brendon rolls his eyes, and slowly lets go of Mikey to shuck off his jacket. "Here." He places it over Mikey's shoulders, who blinks at Brendon, and wraps it tighter around himself.

"Thanks," he says, and Brendon smiles.

"No problem." It's cold outside, but luckily Brendon usually runs warmer than normal, so he should be okay for a least a little bit. Plus, Mikey obviously needed the jacket more— "Wait. Don't werewolves have a higher, uh, body temperature or something?" He's sure he's read about it, which, well, probably explains why Mikey hasn't frozen yet.

Mikey doesn't answer, just shrugs, and Brendon takes the brief moment to study him closer. He's all sharp edges, and there's a gash down his side that seems to be recent, even though it's closed over already. Brendon tries to keep his eyes above Mikey's waist, but. Well. He's hot, even though he's covered in bruises and looks like he's about to pass out. Brendon swallows. That's maybe just a little fucked up.

He realizes that Mikey's legs are shaking, knees knocking together, and Brendon steps closer again, worried.

"Hey, do you have anywhere to go? My apartment's not far." Fuck, Spencer's gonna really kill him.

Mikey shakes his head, and Brendon slips a hand under his elbow again. "Where— Where did you say I was?"

"Near the second landing dock, just a few blocks from the Atavan square."

Mikey doesn't reply, but he starts pulling away.

"Whoa," Brendon says. "Dude, you're not even wearing any shoes, you can't just—" Mikey goes tense at that, and Brendon hurries to elaborate. "I mean, obviously you can, but. Seriously, do you know where you're going? Let me help you."

Mikey sighs. "I can find my own way." He says it like he's not really sure where he's going, and Brendon frowns.

"Seriously, do you—"

"I can smell it, okay," Mikey snaps, and Brendon freezes. "I can't be far."

Brendon swallows. Right. Werewolf. But still, Mikey's really not in a state to be walking anywhere on his own, he can't even take a step without stumbling.

"Well," Brendon says. "Let's go then."

Mikey grumbles, but when he steps forward, and Brendon follows him, still keeping a hand under his elbow, he doesn't pull away.

Brendon keeps up a light chatter as they're walking, even though Mikey doesn't answer. The silence would just be too awkward. He doesn't even know what he's saying, but he figures Mikey's not paying attention anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

It feels like they've been walking for a while now, and Brendon can see Mikey wilting, leaning more heavily on Brendon. He's not sure if Mikey himself even notices it. Then they stop, and Brendon's certain that Mikey's had enough now, and he's gonna have to drag him the rest of the way or something, which would be sort of okay, if he at least knew where he was going. Thankfully Mikey doesn't keel over or anything; instead he tries to pull away from Brendon.

"Whoa, wait," Brendon says. He tries not to tighten his grip out of instinct, but seriously.

"It's around the corner," Mikey says. "You can go now."

Brendon shakes his head, and starts moving again. "Come on, I've come all this way. Why would I turn back now?" Unless... "Uh, are there other werewolves there?" Mikey himself looks pretty harmless, but Brendon's not really sure how Mikey's werewolf friends would react to the sight of them. Brendon's pretty sure that werewolves live in packs, after all.

"Just one," Mikey says, and then they round the corner.

"Whoa," Brendon says at the sight of the apartment building. Compared to Brendon and Spencer's... Well, it's really fucking fancy. They trudge closer, and Brendon spies a security system next to the door, and wonders if Mikey can remember the code or whatever he needs to in the state he's in.

Apparently it's not needed, though, because the door slides open on its own. "Uh," Brendon says, and follows Mikey in. Just to, like, make sure he doesn't trip on carpets or something.

Then there's a sound of someone rushing down the stairs, and next thing Brendon knows, there's a guy desperately clutching on to Mikey, repeating his name over and over.

The door slides closed behind him, and Brendon leans against the wall of the hallway, trying to make himself not noticeable. He doubts it will work, but then again, the guy is really focused on Mikey.

"Mikey, oh fuck." The guy finally moves back a little, his hands on Mikey's shoulders, to get a better look at him, and Brendon takes the chance to look him over. The guy's a little shorter than Mikey, with black, shaggy hair and big, concerned eyes.

"'M fine, Gerard," Mikey mumbles, and Brendon can see him drooping a bit, like the tension has finally gone out of him.

Gerard runs his eyes over Mikey, and swears. "Did you— Fuck, did you change? I thought I sensed— Fuck, Mikes."

He looks up, then, and his gaze locks with Brendon's. Brendon shrinks back a little, why did he even come in, Mikey's obviously fine with his— Uh. Gerard's eyes soften, though, and he says, fervently, "Thank you. Fuck, thank you so much for getting him home."

Brendon beams. Mikey grumbles, "I'm fine, Gee. I didn't need any help."

Brendon can see Gerard's hands tighten on Mikey's shoulders, but he doesn't look away from Brendon. "Seriously, thank you." Brendon shrugs, a little taken aback by how fucking sincere the guy looks, but he's glad Mikey has someone who will be this worried about him.

"It was no problem," he says. "I found him lying naked near the docks. I figured, like, I should at least make sure he gets home safe."

Gerard's eyes widen, and he looks back at Mikey, runs a hand down his arm. "You— Fuck, you look terrible. What— No, okay, you'll tell me later. Bed now."

Mikey nods, and disentangles himself from Gerard, heads for the stairs. He stumbles almost immediately, and Brendon starts forward. Gerard's on top of it, though, and quickly slips his hand around Mikey's waist.

"Uh," Brendon says, because— Well, he can't really afford to lose his jacket, it's pretty much the only one he has. Gerard seems to read his mind, because he goes,

"Wait, this isn't your—"

"Uh, yeah, that's mine." Brendon runs a hand over the back of his neck. "I mean, I guess he can—" keep it, he was about to say, what, but luckily Gerard's already gently pulling it off Mikey. Brendon tries not to stare at Mikey's ass.

Brendon steps forward to take the jacket from Gerard, and notices Mikey shudder. Gerard makes soothing noises, and runs his hands over Mikey's torso briskly, to provide warmth. He looks back at Brendon.

"I'm sorry, can you let yourself out?" Brendon nods, and starts to turn, when Gerard adds. "Seriously, though, thank you so much. You're totally welcome to come by anytime."

Brendon can hear Mikey grumble something, but he ignores it in favor of grinning at Gerard. They disappear up the stairs, and Brendon turns to leave. The door slides closed behind him, and he finally lets himself sag a little.

Well. Fuck.

~

"Brendon?" Spencer calls, when he gets back. "What took you so long?" He sounds worried.

Brendon realizes he never actually made it to the store. Well, fuck. He shrugs his jacket off, and walks into the living room. Spencer's sprawled on the couch, but he pushes himself up when he sees Brendon, looking anxious.

"Brendon?"

"I met a werewolf and helped him home," Brendon says, making a face. "Okay, that didn't really sound as surreal as I thought it would."

Spencer frowns. "A werew— Brendon, what?"

Brendon cringes. "I—"

"Are you serious?" Spencer sounds scary, the kind of calm he gets when he's really worried and really mad at the same time. "You— A werewolf?"

Brendon nods meekly.

"Please tell me you weren't that stupid, please."

Brendon splutters. "What, I couldn't just leave him there, he was totally out of it, didn't even know where he was!"

"That doesn't mean—" Spencer closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Come on, Spencer," Brendon says softly. "You know most of those stories were just made up. They're— He was harmless."

Spencer sighs. "Of course this would happen to you. I send you out to get us milk, and you find a werewolf instead."

Brendon feels abruptly put off. "I can fucking take care of myself, Spencer, seriously. You don't have to— Whatever."

Spencer narrows his eyes, and reaches forward to hit Brendon on the back of his head. "I thought you could take care of yourself, but now I might have to reassess my opinion."

"Look, he was hurt! All I did was help him get home, he was this close to passing out." Spencer raises his eyebrows. "He was naked! He didn't even have any shoes on!" Brendon gives Spencer a beseeching look. "No. Shoes."

Spencer rolls his eyes.

"And look," Brendon raises his arms and gestures at himself. "I'm fine. He didn't try to, like, bite me. And the guy who was waiting for him back home was totally grateful and shit. I— I couldn't just leave him there."

Spencer still looks put out, but he sighs, and abruptly pulls Brendon into a hug. Brendon squeaks, but automatically melts against Spencer.

"You're so stupid," Spencer says, and Brendon smiles into his shoulder.

"I forgot to get the milk."

Spencer grumbles, but doesn't let go of him, and Brendon knows they're fine.

~

Mikey wakes up with a piercing headache and sore muscles. He can't help the soft whine that escapes him, and immediately there's a hand on his forehead, calming.

"Hey," Gerard says. "It's okay, here."

Mikey blinks his eyes open to see Gerard holding out some painkillers. There's a glass on the table next to the bed. He leans up a little to swallow the pills, and Gerard hands him the water.

"What happened?" Gerard asks, his face the picture of concern.

Mikey shakes his head, slowly, and takes a deep breath. "I changed."

"But how?" Gerard's eyes are wide; Mikey looks down at the glass in his hand. "Mikes—"

"I don't know," Mikey says. He has no idea what happened. They'd planned a change for two days from now, when they both had the night off and Gerard could look after him. But as he'd been walking back from work, suddenly it had felt like his whole body was on fire. He relates this to Gerard, who gently pulls him in for a hug when Mikey's voice shakes a little.

Mikey leans his head against Gerard's shoulder. "I don't remember much from running— I think I was trying to get home, but..." Gerard lifts a hand and gently runs it through his hair, before massaging Mikey's temples to ease the headache. Mikey sighs and continues. "Anyway, I woke up in an alley, and— He told me I was near the Atavan square, so I guess I'd gotten pretty close."

"He— That boy who found you?"

Mikey nods. "I told him I knew how to get home, then, but he wouldn't leave me alone."

Gerard gives him a stern look. "You were pretty much drooping on your feet, thank fuck he didn't let you walk home on your own."

Mikey shrugs. "I wasn't that bad off," he says, but he's totally lying, and they both know it. He's having a hard time staying sitting up right now, even.

Gerard sighs heavily, and gently kisses the top of his head. It reminds Mikey of when they were little and used to change together. "Fuck, I'm so glad nothing bad happened to you."

Mikey briefly squeezes Gerard's waist before slowly lying back down again. "I— Why did I change?" he asks once he's settled.

Gerard shakes his head. "We'll find out. Sleep now."

He can feel his eyelids drooping, but he's still feeling nervous about it. Scared. He's weak and tired and he needs Gerard to tell him that it's okay.

"Have you heard about something like this before?" Mikey asks, and Gerard paused before nodding slowly.

"I think I might have. I'll do some research while you're sleeping."

Mikey whines, quietly, and Gerard grasps his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll be here." Mikey relaxes at that. He hasn't felt this bad due to the change in a long time, but just Gerard's presence is making it better.

He remembers something else, right before he dozes off. "Did you really tell that kid he could come over anytime he wanted?"

Gerard looks sheepish. "I was really relieved, okay. I wasn't really— But well, what harm could come of it. He seemed nice."

Mikey groans, and buries his face in the pillow.

The guy— Brendon— had been... Well, nice was a word for it. Eager to help, just a bit annoying, but with a friendly smile, and with really no concept of personal space. Mikey didn't really remember much about the night, just Brendon supporting his elbow; his jacket on Mikey's shoulders, the smell of it. It had been strangely comforting, at the time.

He falls asleep to the sound of Gerard tapping away on his datapad; the scent of Brendon still in his nostrils.

~

One month later

The job at the smoothie shop isn't much, but at least it's better than nothing, and Brendon's familiar with it. Spencer had managed to snag a position at the Factory, which paid a bit more, so at least they are somehow managing.

Brendon's looking for a second job, though, something a bit more challenging. He knows he can do challenging. He's ready for challenging.

"One pineapple smoothie, please."

Brendon conjures up a bright smile, and processes the girl's order.

He's totally ready for something more than this. Sure, this is the first place he applied for, because he figured that at least he was familiar with smoothies—even though the technology on this station's different than it was back home, and he's had to relearn everything—but he's ready to try new things now. Maybe he'll finally try to get a gig at one of the pubs, or find a tutoring job. Maybe he'll get recruited into being a spy. Anything could happen.

The customer waves a hand in front of his face, and he snaps back into the moment.

It's late when his shift ends, but he promised to wait for Spencer so they can take the Transport back together to not waste any credits. Spencer doesn't work far from the mall, but he gets off an hour later than Brendon, so Brendon decides to do a little exploring. He hasn't really had time before, exhausted from work and settling into the apartment. He's missed the Transport back to their place at least twice in the first week—which is not why Spencer insisted on them going together, not at all—and overall he's just been too tired.

The mall is gigantic, way bigger than the ones they had back home. Brendon brings up the map on the screen next to the smoothie place and sets off to the closest music shop.

He stops when he reaches the store, and just stares. It's an actual shop. It's fucking vintage. There are even CDs hanging on the shop windows. He steps inside, almost afraid to ruin the atmosphere of the place. He's never been to a music shop like this; never even seen one like it. He thought they were a myth.

No one bothered to run one back home; there'd been no point. There were small booths all over the place where people could get their tunes from, and most of the people—the ones who could afford it, at least—had one at home.

There aren't many customers in the shop, which oh man, that is just so wrong. Brendon never wants to leave, and he hasn't even had a chance to look at the merchandise yet.

"Hi," comes a voice from right next to him, and Brendon jumps. "Oh, shit, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

The guy's taller than Brendon and has an impressive set of curls. Brendon grins at him. "Oh my god, is this your shop?" The guy's smile falters a little, but then he beams as well. "Yeah! Yeah, man. Uh, I'm Ray Toro. Feel free to look around."

Brendon sweeps his gaze over the store again, and bounces on his feet. "Oh my god," he says, and takes off towards the closest rack.

Everything's really fucking expensive, of course, and Brendon isn't even from Earth, so it isn't exactly like he has any sort of lingering nostalgia for times gone, but. Well. It's still really fucking awesome. He runs his hand over the records and starts flipping through them.

He's not sure how long he's been at it, when he hears a voice that sounds strangely familiar.

"Hey, Ray, the new shipment just came in. I left them in the back."

Brendon raises his head, and looks over at the counter. It's— It is Mikey. Mikey, the werewolf. Wearing a lot more clothes than the last time. Brendon grins.

Mikey's leaning against the counter, dressed in a faded t-shirt and dark jeans. Brendon runs his eyes over him, because, well. He's really fucking pretty, and Brendon feels a lot more confident in staring unabashedly now that the dude isn't naked and close to passing out.

Ray heads to the back, but Mikey takes his place behind the counter, so Brendon puts down the Queen CD and walks over to him.

"Hi," he says, grinning at Mikey. Mikey blinks at him.

"Uh, hey—"

"Brendon," he supplies helpfully.

"I remembered," Mikey says, and Brendon smiles even bigger.

"So," Mikey says, and looks down. "Can I help you?"

Brendon shakes his head. "Nah, I don't really— Uh. But this place is awesome, seriously, man. I've only ever seen the few CDs that my parents had kept, you know, but we didn't have anything to play them with. I was sure that these stores didn't exist anymore, like, you'd hear about them from people, but I thought they were just rumors...”

Mikey's face is neutrally blank, but one of his eyebrows keeps rising, and Brendon realizes he's rambling and trails off. Mikey shrugs his shoulders a little.

"Not rumors," he says, and Brendon can't stop himself from grinning again.

"I know, it's awesome. I mean, you work here, you obviously know how awesome it is. If you haven't been here for too long, I mean, but I doubt you can ever get tired of a place like this— I mean, it definitely beats the smoothie bar, though fuck, I still love smoothies."

Mikey's eyebrows are reaching his hairline, now, but there's also a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Brendon sees it, it's totally there.

"Smoothies?" he asks, and Brendon nods his head towards the smoothie bar.

"Yeah, I work there. You like smoothies?"

Mikey shrugs. "Never had one."

Brendon gapes a little, but recovers quickly. "Well, you should definitely try one. I mean, I can't guarantee that you'll like them, but they're pretty good. Especially mine," he can't resist adding, because damn it, he's good at his job. Even though it's at a smoothie place.

Mikey nods at him. "I'll be sure to do that." Brendon can't really tell if he's being serious or not, and he tilts his head, studying him closer.

"Oh, hey," he says, suddenly realizing. "I totally forgot to ask, how are you? Are you better now?"

Mikey blinks at him a little. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Good," Brendon says, and bounces a little on his feet. "Because you were not looking that hot last time, seriously, I honestly thought that you were gonna pass out and I'd have to drag you home, except I didn't know where you lived, so that would have been kind of hard, so... Uh." Mikey's face has gone blank again, and Brendon trails off awkwardly.

Luckily he's saved by Ray returning from the back of the store. He grins at Brendon. "Find anything you like?"

"Oh, yeah," Brendon says, eagerly turning his attention to Ray. "I don't have any, uh, time right now. I have to meet up with a friend."

He glances at his wrist, tapping against the clock and the clock face zooms in, showing him that he's almost late.

"Oh, well, you're welcome to come back any time, of course," Ray says, brightly.

"Thanks." Brendon gives Ray a bright smile, and catches Mikey rolling his eyes. Brendon would be hurt, but Spencer does it all the time, so he's probably immune to it by now. They both wave when he leaves, and Brendon counts it as a win.

He almost knocks Spencer over when he gets to the Transport stop. Spencer looks tired, but he seems to perk up when Brendon describes the shop to him.

"You seriously need to come see it, oh man, it was so awesome. Oh, and..."

Spencer raises his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Well," Brendon says. "The dude I helped that one night was there. Uh, remember? The werewolf." He lowers his voice to a whisper at the end. Spencer rolls his eyes.

"Remember, I told you that it isn't an issue here. You don't have to keep it a secret that you met a werewolf."

Brendon shrugs. He knows that everyone's aware of werewolves on the station, but he doesn't really feel comfortable talking about someone's secret like that. Well, he doesn't know if it's a secret, but still.

"Anyway, apparently he works there."

"So you're gonna go back there?" Spencer asks, and steps forward when the Transport arrives.

"Of course," Brendon says. Spencer just hums.

~

"He seemed nice," Ray says immediately after Brendon leaves. Mikey leans forward, his elbows on the counter, and makes a non-committal sound. "It looked like you knew him?"

Mikey looks down. "Remember that night last month when I changed? I mean, without the— "

"Yeah, I remember." Ray sounds more serious now, and Mikey can tell he's giving him his full attention. He doesn't even have to look up to know the look on Ray's face.

"He was the one who found me," Mikey finishes.

"Oh," Ray says. "That— What does that mean. Are you, like. Uh. I don't know."

Mikey shakes his head. "It doesn't mean anything, he just helped me out, and that's it."

He doesn't tell Ray how his stomach leaped when Brendon appeared in front of him, and he doesn't know why. The easy explanation is that Brendon was attractive, which is most definitely true. Mikey hadn't really remembered what he'd looked like, too out of it that night. He had remembered his smell, though, which was vaguely annoying. Not the smell, Brendon doesn't smell bad or anything, it just— Mikey's not sure what it is, but it bothers him, makes him itchy.

It makes him want to bare his teeth, so he doesn't tell Ray.

Mikey mentions it to Gerard that night. Well, he mentions that he saw Brendon again, and Gerard smiles, and says, "Oh, I liked him."

Mikey rolls his eyes. "You would have liked anyone who got me back home that night."

Gerard wrinkles his nose. "Well, true, but that doesn't mean he didn't seem like a decent guy."

Mikey snorts, and leans against the kitchen island. "Well, he really liked the shop."

"So he'll probably be back," Gerard says, and gives Mikey a look. Mikey turns his head toward the counter.

"Do we have any coffee?"

Gerard doesn't push it.

~

The next time Brendon comes in he has a guy with him. Mikey runs a quick glance over the dude: worn jeans, nice shoes, great hair. They look comfortable together. As they walk closer Mikey realizes he can smell Brendon all over the guy, and he has a sudden urge to growl. He frowns at himself, and quickly looks down.

"Hey," Brendon says, reaching the counter. "This is Spencer. Spencer, Mikey." Mikey looks up and Spencer nods back at him. Mikey's eyes flick to Brendon, and he's grinning.

"Hi," Mikey says.

"I had to drag Spencer over so he could see this place. Isn't it awesome, Spence?" Brendon beams around the store, and Mikey catches Spencer giving him a fond smile.

"Yeah," Spencer drawls, not unkindly. "I'm gonna look around, okay." He nods towards Mikey again, and leaves the counter to explore. Mikey figures Brendon will join him, but instead he leans against the counter and watches Spencer go. Mikey bites down on his lip.

He notices a smoothie in Brendon's hand, then, and nods his head toward it. "Stealing from the job?"

Brendon freezes for a moment, but then he glances down at the drink and grins.

"It's for you," he says, and presents it to Mikey. Mikey blinks at it.

"Oh," he says. Brendon's wriggling the cup in front of him, and he reaches out almost automatically to take it. "Why?"

Brendon shrugs. "You said you haven't really tried one, and I can get them with a discount, especially if I make them myself, and, I mean, I worked at a smoothie place back home, and it's a bit different here, but, uh, I'm still not sick of them, and I figured you should try one."

Mikey blinks again, slowly. It still catches him a little off guard how much Brendon talks. It's not exactly unusual, Mikey grew up with Gerard, but somehow it's different. They both ramble, but in different ways, and Gerard never really had to babble at Mikey to get his point across. "You talk a lot," he says, without thinking, and then wants to kick himself.

Brendon flushes a little. "Yeah," he says. "Youngest child, so. I mean, you— Gerard is your brother, right?" Mikey nods. "Yeah, I have four older siblings."

Mikey nods at that, and takes a sip of the smoothie. It tastes fruity and fresh. It's good, but he doubts he'll really make a habit of it.

"Where's home?" he asks after licking his lips, and Brendon startles, dragging his eyes away from Mikey's mouth. Mikey tightens his grip on the cup.

"Huh?"

"You said you worked at a smoothie place back home."

"Oh," Brendon says, and runs a hand over the back of his neck. He looks twitchy—twitchier—all of a sudden, and Mikey's about to apologize, when Brendon says, "PO-9. It's— Well, it's pretty far from here."

Mikey nods. He's heard of PO-9. It's smaller than DD-05, and more conservative. Pete said he once passed through it when he and Gabe went searching for a new supplier. Supposedly it was pretty dull. It sounds like Brendon only moved here recently, and Mikey finds himself curious.

"You haven't been here for long," he says.

"Uh, yeah," Brendon says. "Me and Spence came over like a month ago. Just a week or so before, uh, I first met you. I— I'm sorry." Mikey blinks, confused at the sudden change in tone, and Brendon continues. "I told— I mean, Spencer knows. I couldn't not— I'm so sorry if you, like, didn't want me to tell anyone."

Mikey shakes his head. "It's fine. It's not really a secret."

Brendon breathes out, looking relieved, and smiles at him again. Mikey sips on his smoothie. Brendon raises his chin, indicating at the drink.

"You like it?"

Mikey looks down at it, considering. "It's not coffee, but it'll do." Brendon grins at him.

"Hey, that's as much as I can hope for, really."

Spencer walks up to the counter, and gives Mikey another smile. "This place is really cool."

"Thanks," Mikey says. "The owner's out right now, but I'll be sure to tell him that." Ray always loves to hear that someone enjoyed the shop, even when they didn't buy anything. He says it's not really about making money, and Mikey tends to agree with him, especially since he and Gerard are pretty well covered thanks to the inheritance from Elena.

"Well, we should go if we want to catch the last Transport," Spencer says, and Brendon pushes himself away from the counter.

Mikey offers to pay for the smoothie, but Brendon waves him off.

"It's fine," he says. "Like I said, I get a discount. It's on me."

They wave at him when they go, both smiling. Mikey's kind of getting tired of the taste of the smoothie, but he finishes it anyway.

~

"Uhh, I'm so sick of this job," Brendon says, pressing at his eyes with his knuckles.

"I thought you'd never get sick of smoothies," Spencer says.

"It's not that," Brendon says, because it really isn't. There are a lot more fruits at this station so there are a lot more opportunities for different flavors. "I just— I want something else."

Spencer raises his eyebrows at him, and Brendon feels chastised, because Spencer's job is a lot worse.

Brendon snuggles up to him on the couch, lays his head on Spencer's shoulder.

"What do you want to do, Spencer?" he asks, like they're kids again.

"I want to be a drummer and buy a lot of shoes," Spencer says obligingly.

Brendon grins, but he nudges Spencer again.

"But really?"

Spencer sighs. "I don't really know— I do want to play again. I could— I've thought about taking up photography."

"Really?" Brendon asks, surprised that he didn't know of this.

Spencer shrugs. "It's not like I can afford to buy anything right now, but yeah."

Brendon doesn't say anything it that. He still sometimes thinks that if Spencer had stayed on their home station, he would have had more opportunities. That's when Spencer hits him on the head, and tells him to stop being stupid.

"You know," Brendon says. "We should go out." He pushes away from Spencer and grabs his arm, excitedly. "Let's go out, Spence."

Spencer frowns at him. "Out?"

"Like, to a club," Brendon says. Some of his coworkers had talked about it one day, about where their favorite places to go were. It sounded awesome. The home station hadn't really had that much entertainment— And even if it had, it's not like Brendon would have been allowed to go. He likes to think he would have sneaked out, given the chance, but, well.

"Come on, let's go! Let's go dancing, Spence." Brendon leans forward on the couch and wiggles his eyebrows at Spencer.

Spencer just rolls his eyes, but Brendon knows he's won. He whoops, and tries to pull Spencer up to dance with him, but Spencer just grins and evades Brendon's hands. "Fine, Jesus, we'll go."

~

Brendon loves the club. He loves it, loves it, loves it. They get some drinks—Brendon might have been saving up for it—and the place is dark, and packed full, and the music is calling out to Brendon, for real.

He's looking around when someone standing near the booths catches his attention.

"Hey," Spencer says, leaning in close. "Isn't that Mikey?"

Brendon nods distractedly.

"Well," Spencer says. "Are you gonna go talk to him?"

Brendon— He would, but. There's something about the way Mikey's holding himself. It's not really that different from the way he is in the shop—both wildly different from the Mikey he found on the street that night, and at the same time not—but there's like an added quality to him. Maybe it's just the club. Or the light.

Spencer nudges him a little. Brendon flails and pushes Spencer away, grinning at him. "Nah, let's just go dance."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "I told you, I don't—"

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon interrupts him. "Come on now."

Spencer puts up with him for about three songs, and two drinks, until he solemnly declares that he's going to the bathroom, and gets distracted along the way by a blond girl at the edge of the dance floor. Brendon grins, and heads off to get another drink.

He runs into Mikey at the bar—almost literally.

"Shit, sorry," he says, fumbling to rescue his drink and Mikey's jacket.

"Don't worry about it," Mikey says. They stand there for a bit, and Brendon thinks he can feel his ears getting red. This is ridiculous, he knows Mikey.

"Hi," he says, then cringes. Smooth.

"Hey," Mikey says, and Brendon's trying to get his legs to move, when a tall guy with awesome shades and a neon hoodie slaps Mikey on the shoulder and leans into Brendon's space.

"Hey, Mikey," he says. "Introduce me to your friend." Brendon bites at his lip.

"Gabe, this is Brendon," Mikey says. Brendon waves.

"Mm," Gabe says. "I haven't seen you here before."

"It's my first time here," Brendon says brightly, because he has to tell someone. Someone who isn't Spencer. He's out in a club. He'd feel a bit silly about being so excited about it, but he just can't help it.

"Excellent," Gabe says, and Brendon can't help but beam. "And how are you enjoying yourself?" His eyebrows actually waggle, and Brendon giggles.

"Well, the music's pretty good," he says.

"Yeah," Gabe says, and properly grins at him this time. "Our friends are DJing tonight, so it better be good, you know."

Brendon nods enthusiastically. "It's totally awesome," he assures Gabe.

"And what about the company?" Gabe has moved from Mikey's side to Brendon's, his arm slung over Brendon's shoulder.

Brendon shrugs without throwing off Gabe's arm. "I haven't really talked to many people yet." He's feeling a bit awkward about the fact that Mikey's not saying anything, but overall he's happy and buzzed, so. Thank god this isn't the first time he's drinking. That, at least, they could do back home, sneaking drinks at Spencer's place. That reminds him— "Spencer." He cranes his neck to search the crowd. "I'm here with my friend."

"Aw, not your boyfriend?" Gabe says, and Brendon freezes for a moment, then laughs.

"Spencer? No, he's just my best friend. We're not— No, nothing like that."

Spencer chooses that moment to appear, and glares at Gabe, effectively ruining Brendon's explanation.

"Hey," he says, warily, and Brendon beams at him as well.

"Spencer, this is Gabe." Gabe actually extends his hand, grabs Spencer's and kisses it. Spencer's eyes narrow even more.

"Pleasure to meet you," Gabe says, and Brendon giggles.

Spencer huffs, but Brendon can tell that he's not really annoyed, and apparently so can Gabe, because he grins at him.

"Well, I think I fancy another drink," Brendon says, gleefully. Spencer rolls his eyes. Brendon's not looking at Spencer, but he knows he does.

"See you around," Mikey says, and Brendon looks at him, startled. He'd thought— Or he'd hoped, at least, that maybe they'd hang out a bit.

"Oh," he says. "Yeah, totally." Mikey nods at them both before he heads off, and Gabe shrugs.

"Well, see you," he says, and follows Mikey.

Brendon tries not to pout too hard at Spencer, but luckily Spencer takes pity on him and just leads him out to the dance floor again.

"Spencer Smith," Brendon says, delighted. "I knew you secretly loved to dance."

They stay in the club for a few more hours. Brendon keeps catching glimpses of Mikey, but Mikey's never looking his way, so Brendon just buys another drink and drags Spencer over to flirt with the guys leaning next to the bar.

~

It's late when Mikey gets back home, and he's still pleasantly buzzed. Gerard's still up, of course. They don't get much sleep on good days, but it's always worse near the change. Gerard's sketching in the living room, which either means he's given up on actually getting some work done or he was struck by an idea when he was watching the wall screen.

"I saw Brendon in the club tonight," Mikey finds himself saying. Gerard hums in acknowledgment. He keeps drawing, and Mikey sits back on the couch, rests his head against the back of it.

He realizes he's drifting, vaguely dreaming of running, when Gerard's voice brings him back to the present. "Brendon— Brendon, oh, the kid who brought you home? Wait, what did you say about him?"

Mikey rolls his eyes, fond, and turns his head towards Gerard. "He was at the club tonight."

"Oh," Gerard says. "He's been to the shop, too, right?"

"Yeah," Mikey says, remembering the way Brendon's eyes were lit up, how excited he was. Seeing Brendon in the club, though, that had been— Brendon had been— not that different, really— a bit drunk and even more open and it had been obvious that it was his first night there, even before Gabe had asked him about it.

"Mikey?" Gerard asks, brow furrowed. "What is it?"

Mikey shrugs; shuffles over and leans his head on Gerard's shoulder. "Nothing. I just don't think he's been out a lot before."

"Who, Brendon?"

Mikey nods, and Gerard shrugs his shoulders. Mikey goes with the motion, and closes his eyes.

"I just hope he won't get in trouble," he says.

"Why should he?" Gerard asks, and Mikey doesn't know, he just— Brendon seems so innocent. At least he hadn't been alone.

His attention is caught by Gerard jiggling his foot, and Mikey abruptly realizes that he's been thrumming with nervous energy all evening. Mikey just didn't notice before.

He glances up at Gerard, pulls back a little. "We can do it early. Tonight."

Gerard immediately shakes his head. "No, we planned for tomorrow. And you're tired right now."

Mikey opens his mouth to protest, because he's just a bit worn out, but it's nothing he can't handle, and he wants Gerard to feel better, but Gerard throws a sharp glance at him, and Mikey subsides.

"I guess I'm going to bed, then," he says, and Gerard nods. Mikey stands up, but doesn't move further. Gerard's still jittery, thrumming his pencil against the notebook. "At least take some Rel-20."

Gerard looks up at that, and sighs. "Yeah, I will. And you get some rest." Mikey rolls his eyes. It's not even that late.

"Night," he says, and heads upstairs to his room. He's not really thinking of anything when he's undressing, but then his mind offers him an image of Brendon, grinning and sweaty. Mikey frowns, and shivers a little as he realizes that he can still faintly smell Brendon. Fuck. He shakes his head, runs his hands over his face and heads for the shower.

He doesn't really jerk off while thinking of Brendon, but with the scent of him still lingering in his memory it's pretty much the same.

Part Two