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bandomstuffsitTitle: Ryan the Pampered Chef
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gemmi999
Pairing(s): Brendon/Ryan
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word count: 1,576
Summary: Hi, I’m Ryan Ross—I live right up the street. We’re having a Pampered Chef party--and you're invited!
Now:
Ryan nervously rubs his palms against the side of his jeans, wiping off the sweat that had been collecting. “You can do this, Ross.” He mutters to himself. Then he leans forward and presses the doorbell quickly, almost hoping it won’t sound.
No such luck.
He waits a few seconds before the door opens and a tiny head peered out.
“Hello!”
“Um, hi.” Ryan shifts. “Can I talk to your mom or dad, please?”
“Sure.” The head popped away and Ryan began running through his speech in his head. Hi, I’m Ryan Ross—I live right up the street. We’re having a Pampered Chef party--
“Can I help you?” A nicely dressed woman interrupts Ryan’s train of thought. He startles for a second before regrouping. The woman was wearing Ugg boots and Ryan has to resist the urge to walk away, run away, tweet away. But fuck—he’s lost the bet and Brendon is kind of counting on him.
“Hi—“ Ryan starts, discretely taking a picture of the woman’s boots with his iphone. He can always tweet about them later.
Before:
“Okay,” Ryan said, looking around. “This wasn’t quite what I was expecting when you invited me to a party.”
Brendon shrugs. Ryan takes the shrug to mean that Brendon isn’t exactly comfortable, either.
“When you said Kara was having a party—“ Ryan tries again.
“There’s free food.” Brendon interrupts. “And she has beer in the kitchen. That says party to me.”
“Brendon, there are a bunch of Mormon women sitting around on couches, looking at catalogues.” Ryan whispers that last part—he doesn’t want to actually offend any of them, just—their mormon and old and probably married.
“See? I told you there’d be girls!” Brendon’s eyes are dancing with mirth.
“Yeah.” Ryan agrees. “Right.” Instead of arguing with Brendon again, he reaches for his phone. He’s texting Spencer before Brendon even realizes Ryan’s phone is in his hand.
Send Help. Please.
“Ryan!” Brendon practically shrieks. “You can’t text during a party!”
“Brendon,” Ryan takes a deep breath. He can’t yell at the guy in front of his sister. “What kind of party is this, anyway?”
Later:
“Seriously, it’s the sickest shit ever!” Brendon’s saying into the phone. “Like, I can open up ANY can I want and the thing just does it and it isn’t sharp!” Ryan rolls his eyes. Brendon been on a Chef Boyardee kick lately. And he won’t shut up about the damn can opener Ryan got at Kara’s party.
Fuck, if he’d known he wouldn’t have bought the thing but Kara had fed him and Brendon had dragged him down—Ryan felt like he had to buy something. And he needed a can opener.
“Yeah, I’ll tell Kara you want one! It’ll be like a Christmas present or something.”
“It’s September, dickwad.” Ryan calls out. “Way too early to claim Christmas present status.”
“Fuck you, Ryan. Pete says it can totally count.”
Later Still:
“Dude, I told you it was the shit!” Brendon bounces into the room and throws an arm around Pete. Ryan looks at the two of them and then at the numerous open cans in front of him. They were making pasta with homemade tomato sauce. It sounded delicious just saying it.
“You were right, young Padiwan.” Pete says. “Ash loves it too. We’re thinking about getting one for Jess for Christmas.”
“Let me know and I can hook you up.” Brendon leans into Pete and winks, once. “I have a source, you know.” Ryan watches as he nudges Pete with his elbow.
“Dude, maybe Patrick needs one, too.” Pete’s mumbling to himself. “And Gabe. Jensen.”
Ryan rolls his eyes. Pete’s still listing names and Brendon’s eyes are getting wider. “Kara’s going to shit.”
“Does she make a commission?” Ryan can’t help but ask. “Like, 10% of each sale?”
Brendon shrugs. “Don’t know how it works, really. She just asked if my friends wanted anything.”
“Hmmm.” Pete smiles. “Maybe I should buy a bunch and just give them out as birthday gifts.”
“Like you do with Clandestine stuff?” Ryan jokes.
Pete sits up and smiles. “Brilliant, Ryan! I can totally sell these through Clandestine. I mean, stoners have to eat too, right?”
“Right!” Brendon smiles. “But you’ll have to talk to Kara about that. She knows the company better.”
Earlier:
u went 2 a tupperware party. laughing at u so hard.
Ryan scowls at the text message from Spencer.
Dickwad. You should have saved me.
more fun 2 laugh
Ass. See if I give you your pizza stone now.
Plz?
Ryan smiles and puts his cell away. He can let Spencer stew for a few hours before he responds, it’ll do the fucker good.
In the Middle:
“I don’t get it.” Pete looks at the can opener. “Just—it’s a can opener.”
Brendon’s almost vibrating in his seat with excitement, but he doesn’t say a word. Ryan sighs. Brendon’s really milking the lost bet for all it was worth. Fucker. “Use it.”
Pete looks at the can opener again. And then at the can. He doesn’t shrug helplessly but Ryan can see the confused look in Pete’s eyes. And okay, it looks a little different from a regular can opener, but not much!
“Fine, give it here.” Ryan holds his hands out. “I’ll show you.”
“Dude, Bren’s got you whipped.” Pete jokes as he hands over the can opener.
“I can drop the can on your toe.” Ryan says, deadpan.
“Nah, just get one with the demonstration.”
Ryan shrugs and opens the can of tomatoes. “See,” Ryan holds up the lid—“it doesn’t leave any sharp edges.”
“Like magic!” Brendon interrupts.
The Bet:
“What’d the banana do to you?” Spencer looks at the pile of dented fruit and Ryan fights the urge to blush. He doesn’t succeed.
“Um.”
“No, seriously. Making banana bread? Banana splits? Banana pudding?”
If Ryan didn’t know better, he’d say Spencer was fucking with him. But it was Spencer and Ryan doesn’t think he’d do that. Maybe. Possibly.
“Um.”
“Okay.” Spencer takes a seat on the couch and shifts a little. “Are you trying to learn how to…” and now it was Spencer who blushes, but he’s blushing while holding a hand to his mouth and god—was he doing what Ryan thought he was doing?!
“No!”
“Okay. Okay.” Spencer holds his hands up in defense. “Got it—no oral sex.”
“Good. Because, yeah. I don’t need to practice on banana’s for that.” Ryan takes a deep breath and then reaches behind him to pull out a pack of condoms. An almost empty pack of condoms.
“Ryan, you’re like a brother to me, but there are something’s I just don’t need to know.” Spencer began. “And if you’re coming out as banana sexual—“
“Fucker.” Ryan scowls. “Brendon says he can put a condom on with just his mouth.”
Spencer nods.
“And well,” Ryan fidgets. “I might have challenged him. So I’m practicing.”
Spencer takes one look at the mangled pile of banana’s and shakes his head. “Did you at least YouTube it? Get some directions?”
Ryan doesn’t bother answering, just looks at the banana’s with determination in his eyes.
Almost Now:
“So, the table will go here.” Brendon gestures to the front of Ryan’s living room. “Kara said she’ll be here Wednesday at 4:00 to help prep the food.”
Ryan nods, as if he’s actually interested and didn’t just lose a bet.
“There are flyers on the kitchen table for you to take around to your neighbors.” Brendon continues.
Ryan would like to think that he acts suave, mature, but really? “Huh?”
“I thought it’d be nice, you know?” Brendon smiles. “This way they can put it on the fridge and remember! Plus, I put a kitten picture on it.”
“I’m sure Jon will approve.” Ryan says dryly.
“Oh, he does.” Brendon nods. “He’s coming!”
“He’s flying in from Chicago for this?”
Brendon shifts nervously from foot to foot. “Um.”
Ryan narrows his eyes. “Brendon, Jon isn’t flying in for this, is he?”
“He said it was my Christmas present! And it was his decision and you can’t do anything about it.” Brendon says this all really quickly.
“Hmmm.” Ryan looks at Brendon carefully. “Is anyone else coming?”
“Um, Pete?”
“I hope none of our neighbors have teenagers.”
Beginning:
Ryan’s phone vibrates against his thigh.
Want to go to a party? Brendon. Ryan smiles.
With you? Sure.
<333333 Tonight, 6pm at Kara’s
Now:
Ryan walks into the kitchen and drops the left over flyers onto the table. “Done!” he announces.
“How’d it go?”
“Fine.”
“I bet you had fun, getting to know your neighbors.” Brendon smiles. “And they’ll have fun and buy things and then Kara will be happy and…”
“And then it’ll be over, the entire thing.”
“Aw. Don’t be like that. You’re gonna have fun.”
“I lost a bet.”
“I know.” Brendon’s smile is lewd. “I was there, remember?”
Ryan blushes. “Next time…”
Brendon laughs at this. “Ryan, next time I’ll win, too.” Brendon takes a second, grabs his beer from the kitchen counter, and walks out towards the hallway. Half way there he pauses and looks over his shoulder. “Hey Ryan--how do you feel about rimming?”
Author:
gemmi999Pairing(s): Brendon/Ryan
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word count: 1,576
Summary: Hi, I’m Ryan Ross—I live right up the street. We’re having a Pampered Chef party--and you're invited!
Now:
Ryan nervously rubs his palms against the side of his jeans, wiping off the sweat that had been collecting. “You can do this, Ross.” He mutters to himself. Then he leans forward and presses the doorbell quickly, almost hoping it won’t sound.
No such luck.
He waits a few seconds before the door opens and a tiny head peered out.
“Hello!”
“Um, hi.” Ryan shifts. “Can I talk to your mom or dad, please?”
“Sure.” The head popped away and Ryan began running through his speech in his head. Hi, I’m Ryan Ross—I live right up the street. We’re having a Pampered Chef party--
“Can I help you?” A nicely dressed woman interrupts Ryan’s train of thought. He startles for a second before regrouping. The woman was wearing Ugg boots and Ryan has to resist the urge to walk away, run away, tweet away. But fuck—he’s lost the bet and Brendon is kind of counting on him.
“Hi—“ Ryan starts, discretely taking a picture of the woman’s boots with his iphone. He can always tweet about them later.
Before:
“Okay,” Ryan said, looking around. “This wasn’t quite what I was expecting when you invited me to a party.”
Brendon shrugs. Ryan takes the shrug to mean that Brendon isn’t exactly comfortable, either.
“When you said Kara was having a party—“ Ryan tries again.
“There’s free food.” Brendon interrupts. “And she has beer in the kitchen. That says party to me.”
“Brendon, there are a bunch of Mormon women sitting around on couches, looking at catalogues.” Ryan whispers that last part—he doesn’t want to actually offend any of them, just—their mormon and old and probably married.
“See? I told you there’d be girls!” Brendon’s eyes are dancing with mirth.
“Yeah.” Ryan agrees. “Right.” Instead of arguing with Brendon again, he reaches for his phone. He’s texting Spencer before Brendon even realizes Ryan’s phone is in his hand.
“Ryan!” Brendon practically shrieks. “You can’t text during a party!”
“Brendon,” Ryan takes a deep breath. He can’t yell at the guy in front of his sister. “What kind of party is this, anyway?”
Later:
“Seriously, it’s the sickest shit ever!” Brendon’s saying into the phone. “Like, I can open up ANY can I want and the thing just does it and it isn’t sharp!” Ryan rolls his eyes. Brendon been on a Chef Boyardee kick lately. And he won’t shut up about the damn can opener Ryan got at Kara’s party.
Fuck, if he’d known he wouldn’t have bought the thing but Kara had fed him and Brendon had dragged him down—Ryan felt like he had to buy something. And he needed a can opener.
“Yeah, I’ll tell Kara you want one! It’ll be like a Christmas present or something.”
“It’s September, dickwad.” Ryan calls out. “Way too early to claim Christmas present status.”
“Fuck you, Ryan. Pete says it can totally count.”
Later Still:
“Dude, I told you it was the shit!” Brendon bounces into the room and throws an arm around Pete. Ryan looks at the two of them and then at the numerous open cans in front of him. They were making pasta with homemade tomato sauce. It sounded delicious just saying it.
“You were right, young Padiwan.” Pete says. “Ash loves it too. We’re thinking about getting one for Jess for Christmas.”
“Let me know and I can hook you up.” Brendon leans into Pete and winks, once. “I have a source, you know.” Ryan watches as he nudges Pete with his elbow.
“Dude, maybe Patrick needs one, too.” Pete’s mumbling to himself. “And Gabe. Jensen.”
Ryan rolls his eyes. Pete’s still listing names and Brendon’s eyes are getting wider. “Kara’s going to shit.”
“Does she make a commission?” Ryan can’t help but ask. “Like, 10% of each sale?”
Brendon shrugs. “Don’t know how it works, really. She just asked if my friends wanted anything.”
“Hmmm.” Pete smiles. “Maybe I should buy a bunch and just give them out as birthday gifts.”
“Like you do with Clandestine stuff?” Ryan jokes.
Pete sits up and smiles. “Brilliant, Ryan! I can totally sell these through Clandestine. I mean, stoners have to eat too, right?”
“Right!” Brendon smiles. “But you’ll have to talk to Kara about that. She knows the company better.”
Earlier:
u went 2 a tupperware party. laughing at u so hard.
Ryan scowls at the text message from Spencer.
Dickwad. You should have saved me.
more fun 2 laugh
Ass. See if I give you your pizza stone now.
Plz?
Ryan smiles and puts his cell away. He can let Spencer stew for a few hours before he responds, it’ll do the fucker good.
In the Middle:
“I don’t get it.” Pete looks at the can opener. “Just—it’s a can opener.”
Brendon’s almost vibrating in his seat with excitement, but he doesn’t say a word. Ryan sighs. Brendon’s really milking the lost bet for all it was worth. Fucker. “Use it.”
Pete looks at the can opener again. And then at the can. He doesn’t shrug helplessly but Ryan can see the confused look in Pete’s eyes. And okay, it looks a little different from a regular can opener, but not much!
“Fine, give it here.” Ryan holds his hands out. “I’ll show you.”
“Dude, Bren’s got you whipped.” Pete jokes as he hands over the can opener.
“I can drop the can on your toe.” Ryan says, deadpan.
“Nah, just get one with the demonstration.”
Ryan shrugs and opens the can of tomatoes. “See,” Ryan holds up the lid—“it doesn’t leave any sharp edges.”
“Like magic!” Brendon interrupts.
The Bet:
“What’d the banana do to you?” Spencer looks at the pile of dented fruit and Ryan fights the urge to blush. He doesn’t succeed.
“Um.”
“No, seriously. Making banana bread? Banana splits? Banana pudding?”
If Ryan didn’t know better, he’d say Spencer was fucking with him. But it was Spencer and Ryan doesn’t think he’d do that. Maybe. Possibly.
“Um.”
“Okay.” Spencer takes a seat on the couch and shifts a little. “Are you trying to learn how to…” and now it was Spencer who blushes, but he’s blushing while holding a hand to his mouth and god—was he doing what Ryan thought he was doing?!
“No!”
“Okay. Okay.” Spencer holds his hands up in defense. “Got it—no oral sex.”
“Good. Because, yeah. I don’t need to practice on banana’s for that.” Ryan takes a deep breath and then reaches behind him to pull out a pack of condoms. An almost empty pack of condoms.
“Ryan, you’re like a brother to me, but there are something’s I just don’t need to know.” Spencer began. “And if you’re coming out as banana sexual—“
“Fucker.” Ryan scowls. “Brendon says he can put a condom on with just his mouth.”
Spencer nods.
“And well,” Ryan fidgets. “I might have challenged him. So I’m practicing.”
Spencer takes one look at the mangled pile of banana’s and shakes his head. “Did you at least YouTube it? Get some directions?”
Ryan doesn’t bother answering, just looks at the banana’s with determination in his eyes.
Almost Now:
“So, the table will go here.” Brendon gestures to the front of Ryan’s living room. “Kara said she’ll be here Wednesday at 4:00 to help prep the food.”
Ryan nods, as if he’s actually interested and didn’t just lose a bet.
“There are flyers on the kitchen table for you to take around to your neighbors.” Brendon continues.
Ryan would like to think that he acts suave, mature, but really? “Huh?”
“I thought it’d be nice, you know?” Brendon smiles. “This way they can put it on the fridge and remember! Plus, I put a kitten picture on it.”
“I’m sure Jon will approve.” Ryan says dryly.
“Oh, he does.” Brendon nods. “He’s coming!”
“He’s flying in from Chicago for this?”
Brendon shifts nervously from foot to foot. “Um.”
Ryan narrows his eyes. “Brendon, Jon isn’t flying in for this, is he?”
“He said it was my Christmas present! And it was his decision and you can’t do anything about it.” Brendon says this all really quickly.
“Hmmm.” Ryan looks at Brendon carefully. “Is anyone else coming?”
“Um, Pete?”
“I hope none of our neighbors have teenagers.”
Beginning:
Ryan’s phone vibrates against his thigh.
Want to go to a party? Brendon. Ryan smiles.
With you? Sure.
<333333 Tonight, 6pm at Kara’s
Now:
Ryan walks into the kitchen and drops the left over flyers onto the table. “Done!” he announces.
“How’d it go?”
“Fine.”
“I bet you had fun, getting to know your neighbors.” Brendon smiles. “And they’ll have fun and buy things and then Kara will be happy and…”
“And then it’ll be over, the entire thing.”
“Aw. Don’t be like that. You’re gonna have fun.”
“I lost a bet.”
“I know.” Brendon’s smile is lewd. “I was there, remember?”
Ryan blushes. “Next time…”
Brendon laughs at this. “Ryan, next time I’ll win, too.” Brendon takes a second, grabs his beer from the kitchen counter, and walks out towards the hallway. Half way there he pauses and looks over his shoulder. “Hey Ryan--how do you feel about rimming?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-12-29 05:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-29 10:44 am (UTC)(I giggled out loud at Jon flying in from Chigaco for the party. And Ryan's determined look at the bananas. And Brendon's general adorableness. &hearts)
Thank you, mystery author!
no subject
Date: 2010-12-30 04:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-31 11:17 am (UTC)