Chapter Text
Graduation
The sun beat down hot as hell on the back of Brian's neck. He took his baseball cap off with one hand and wiped his forehead with the other.
"Gross," said Gerard.
Brian glared. Gerard was wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt and a black hoodie, and pretending really hard that he wasn't sweating to death, too. "Shut up," said Brian, "or I'll wipe it on you."
"You wouldn't," Gerard said, but he took a step away.
The line shuffled forward a couple of people. "You look like a vampire, you know," said Brian after a minute. "Or like you're allergic to sunlight."
Gerard glared. "I like black," he said.
Mikey looked up from texting on his phone long enough to roll his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "You're so emo without Frank. He'll be over bronchitis in like a week, he's not dead."
"Shut up," Gerard replied. "I'm not being emo about Frank. I'm..." He made a little flapping gesture with his hands that made Brian frown. Gerard had been weird around Frank for a couple of weeks. "Anyway, the music department graduation was enough. Why do they have to have another one?"
Sweat was rolling down Brian's back and it felt totally disgusting. "So parents feel like they got their money's worth," said Brian. He tapped his hand against his thigh and tried not to sigh. He wasn't old enough to be the impatient guy in line. "Has Brendon said anything to you about after graduation? He won't fucking talk to me." Brian felt more than a little pathetic, relying on Mikey to tell him what was going on with Brendon, but Brendon had been weird the last few months.
Mikey shrugged. Gerard grabbed the phone out of his hands. "Hey," Mikey protested, "I was using that."
"How many times a day can you possibly text Pete?" Gerard said impatiently. "You're not that interesting."
"Your face isn't that interesting," Mikey said darkly.
Gerard stared at the phone for a second. "You're texting Pete's girlfriend?" he said. "Holy shit. Mikey, does Pete know?"
"I think Alicia told him, yeah," said Mikey, snatching the phone back. "Since they're going out and everything."
"Mikey, hitting on your friend's girl is uncool," Gerard counseled seriously.
"I'm not hitting on Alicia," Mikey scoffed. "She sent me a picture of her cat. I'm just being polite."
Brian stepped between them. They were still about a dozen people away from entrance to the football stadium and the sun was making him grumpy. "Brendon," Brian said loudly. "Your babysitter. His graduation. Remember?"
"I'm not supposed to tell you," Mikey said. He started to text and Gerard reached around Brian for the phone again. Mikey put it defensively in his pocket and glared.
"What? Why not?" Brian had offered Brendon a full-time job at the office, and Brendon had reacted by getting super squirrely and calling in sick for three days. Brian was still trying to figure that out.
"If I told you that, I'd be telling the other thing," Mikey said patiently. "Gee, soda."
Gerard handed over his Coke and crossed his arms. "We don't tell you everything, Brian," he said.
Brian knew that. It drove him fucking nuts, even though he hadn't called his mother about anything more important than holiday plans until Gerard and Mikey had shown up. Still, this was supposed to be different. Brian was a cool dad. He got it. He worked with bands. He understood teenagers. The fact that his were all acting like crazy people was so frustrating.
"You tell me all the important stuff, though, right?" Brian asked.
Mikey and Gerard exchanged a look. The line shuffled forward another couple of people. "Um," said Mikey. "Sure."
"What the fuck?" Brian demanded. "You'd better be. What do you mean—"
"C'mon," Gerard interrupted. "It's just ... We're grownups. So we don't come running to you for every little thing. We're not little kids anymore."
The urge to yell 'you are kids, you'll always be kids' was overwhelming. Brian tapped his foot impatiently and stifled it with a grumpy noise. The line shuffled forward.
"I don't want to be here," Gerard complained.
"We're here for Brendon," said Brian.
Gerard just shook his head and muttered, "I wish Frank were here."
Brian handed their tickets over to bored-looking students and herded the boys through the gate. The stadium was already filled with parents and the school marching band, and on the ground were rows and rows of folding chairs and a few thousand graduates in blue robes milling around. "I don't see Brendon," said Gerard.
"Duh," said Mikey. "There's ten thousand people and he's short."
"Well, I do see Ryan," said Brian, pointing. "C'mon."
It was really hot to be climbing stairs in the sun. Gerard got slower and slower until Brian was actually shoving him and dragging Mikey. "Guys," said Brian. "Hurry the fuck up. This is going to start before we get there." Gerard made a hugely huffy, put-upon noise and started stomping, but at least he was moving again. By the time they got up to their seats Brian's t-shirt was stuck to his back and even Gerard had taken off his hood.
Ryan scooted over to make room. He was wearing a fluttery scarf despite the weather. Ryan was sitting next to Jon, who was wearing a Cubs hat and looked hot and miserable. Brian liked Jon a lot anyway, but he liked him more for being a normal person who sweated. Brian wanted a beer as big as his head.
"You met Spencer's family at the music department graduation, right?" Ryan asked politely. Brian had actually chatted with the Smiths for a while earlier; Ryan had apparently been adopted by Spencer's family the way Brian had taken in Brendon. Spencer's mother hugged Ryan like it was totally normal to do so, which was almost the only time Brian had seen Ryan voluntarily hug anyone.
Spencer's sisters were having a fight over the last sip of their extra-large soda. They were also poking Ryan in the back and nodding at Jon and bursting into giggles every few minutes. Ryan rolled his eyes patiently and pretended to ignore them.
Spencer's mother hugged Brian and would have hugged Gerard and Mikey if they'd looked even remotely open to it. Spencer's father nodded and grunted, wiping sweat off his face. "We're so glad you're here," she said.
"This is never going to start," Jon complained. "I'm going to melt in to a puddle and die."
Mikey was already texting on Brian's other side. Gerard got the adoring look on his face he always had when he got to hang out with Ryan and Jon and Spencer. He craned his neck to look over Ryan's shoulder at the book he had with him. "What's that?" Gerard asked.
"Kurt Cobain's diary," said Ryan. "You want to see?" He handed it over with a little smile at Jon.
"What's up, Mikey Way?" Jon asked, looking over Mikey's shoulder at his phone. "Ooooh. Girlfriend?"
"Yeah, but not his," said Gerard, flipping through the book. "Pete's."
Jon raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were a player," he said.
Mikey frowned a little. "It's not like that," he said. "Pete's my friend. Alicia's my friend, too. I'm not... Shut up."
Jon was man enough not to laugh. "Sounds complicated," he said instead, and flashed Ryan a quick grin. Then he got busy taking out his camera and working with its enormous zoom lens.
Gerard squinted down at the football field. "They're starting, I think," he said.
"Dude," said Jon, snapping a couple of shots. "You think they're selling beer?"
"I wish," Brian said.
"This is a wholesome family event," Gerard said piously, looking through Ryan's book. "You two would just get drunk and crash the field."
Jon looked thoughtful. "Did you just dare me to streak graduation?"
Gerard's head jerked up. "What? No! I... Oh, you're messing with me. Shut up." He punched Jon in the arm.
"Because I will. If you make the bet worth my while."
"Spencer would enjoy it," said Ryan, deadpan.
"And it would definitely make graduation memorable," Brian agreed.
"Shut up," Gerard repeated, turning red.
On the football field the marching band started playing the national anthem. Brian wanted to pay attention, he honestly did, but the sun was right in his face and it was so hot outside, and from where they were sitting he could barely make out the speeches. He spent a lot of time staring at the crowd of graduates trying to pick out Spencer and Brendon, but the students were too tiny to tell apart.
It was weird that they were going to be old enough to go out and do things on their own, and it was even weirder, Brian thought, that he'd only ever known them as college students. It certainly felt like he'd known them for longer. He was self-aware enough to recognize that his dread of Brendon's graduation was actual dread of Gerard's, next year, but that didn't make him any less uncomfortable.
"I'm bored," Mikey said.
Gerard had been reading for at least three-quarters of the ceremony. "That's because it's boring. When I graduate you guys can skip it. I don't care. This kind of stuff is lame."
"It's important to Brendon and Spencer," said Brian.
Jon snorted. "If it were important to them they wouldn't have been up all night partying with the music department," he said. "I'll bet you a million dollars Brendon is asleep down there right now."
"No bet," said one of the twins. Crystal? "Spencer was so tired this morning he couldn't remember what his phone number was."
"It's important," Ryan said suddenly. Brian looked at him, surprised. "It's like... I don't know. You only get one. And even if it's stupid, what if no one goes? What if no one cares about you enough to be bored for an hour for you? Somebody has to take stupid pictures and buy you flowers and give you presents you don't want, and..." He trailed off, shrugging uncomfortably. "I mean. That's what I think."
Jon put an arm around Ryan's shoulders and didn't say anything. Gerard looked intensely curious, but after a quick look at Brian's expression he closed his mouth and shrugged, going back to his book. Spencer's mother, who had been listening, turned around to pet Ryan fondly on the knee and smile. Had they, Brian wondered, gone to Ryan's high school graduation? Had anyone?
"I got a bunch of pictures," Jon said instead. "Brendon playing for the department. Spencer getting the Presidential Honors award. Spencer punching Brendon for playing 'chopsticks' during the ceremony. Brendon hugging the head of the department."
"Blackmail material," Brian said. "Good."
"I do what I can," Jon agreed.
"Is it over yet?" Mikey grumbled.
Gerard looked up from his book long enough to squint at the field. "I think... I think the guy who's speaking is still speaking. You know what I mean. I definitely don't want you guys to suffer through my graduation next year. Maybe I'll just drop out."
Brian glared. "Fuck, no. You're graduating. We're going. And I'm going to videotape it."
Gerard rolled his eyes and went back to his book. The graduation freak-outs were getting worse, and he still had a year to go. Brian wasn't excited to see what he'd be like by December.
The Smiths started clapping, which Brian assumed meant the speech was finally over. "I think that's it," Jon said. "Thank god."
"We're meeting them by the D stairs," Ryan said. "For pictures. And then we're going to Brian's house for a party, and then Spence and Jon are taking you guys to the airport. And—"
"Ryan," said Jon, "you don't need to make an itinerary, okay? Today is about just hanging out and celebrating."
"Spencer made the list, I'm just reading it—"
Jon held up his hands menacingly. "Swear to god, Ross, if you don't chill I'm going to tickle you here in front of the entire stadium." On the field the graduates threw their caps in the air and everyone began applauding.
Ryan paused in mid-complaint. "I want it to be good," he said finally.
"Oh, honey," said Spencer's mother, and squeezed his knee again.
"Down the stairs!" Brian announced, pulling Gerard and Mikey up. The rest of the dazed and sunburned parents in the stadium were trying to file out, too.
Everyone got up except Gerard. "We should just wait for everyone else to leave first," he complained. "I don't want to shove through. What if someone falls and gets hurt? They should have an emergency evacuation plan." Mikey kicked him impatiently in the shin until he stood up and handed the book back to Ryan. They all pushed their way through the crowd and down the stairs, with Spencer's sisters arguing quietly over who got to give him his graduation present first, and who was going to sit by the window on the plane, and Spencer's mother pinching Ryan's arm and asking him about how much and how often he ate.
Gerard shoved his hands in his pockets and looked thoughtful, which Brian usually mistrusted. "What?" Brian asked.
Gerard shrugged. "Just," he said. "I'm going to college. In a couple of years, I mean."
Brian's stomach lurched. He was going to have to talk to his mother about what parents did when their kids started leaving. "Yeah," he agreed.
"It's just... It's weird."
Brian nodded. "It doesn't have to be like this," he offered. "It can be somewhere small. Somewhere near home."
"I was thinking about art school. Mr. Madison was talking to me about that a little bit."
Brian was totally fine with Gerard being an unemployable artist for the rest of his life, if that was what made him happy. "Okay," he said. "I think we're supposed to tour schools and stuff. When you find some you like, let me know."
"But what if... Never mind. Hey, I see Brendon. Brendon!" Gerard waved and shoved past a bunch of people on the stairs, disappearing in to the crowd.
"Where?" Mikey scowled. "I don't see them, and I'm taller than he is." Mikey liked adding 'I'm taller than he is' to all kinds of unrelated sentences. He had been taller than Gerard for almost six months now, and he was still pretty excited about it.
Brian squinted. "I don't know. He's—Oh, there's Spencer. Thank god one of them is tall enough to see." Brian pointed. Spencer had grown a beard in the last couple of months, and Brian couldn't decide if that was an unfortunate decision or not. On the one hand, Spencer no longer looked so much like a girl. On the other hand, he occasionally looked like a girl with a beard.
Spencer had already peeled off his blue robe. Brendon was still wearing his. "Oh my god," said Brian. "Did he bedazzle that?"
Ryan tried not to laugh, but he couldn't quite stifle it in time. "Yeah," he said. "That was his big stress project last week." He managed to be affectionate and mocking in the same breath.
"Oh my god," Brian said again. "It's so... Shiny."
Spencer and Brendon seemed to be arguing about something. They both looked exhausted and grumpy; Spencer had his arms crossed and Brendon kept stamping his foot. They stopped and tried to look happy when they saw everyone else coming over. Jon wove his fingers through Spencer's and gave him a quick kiss that made Spencer blush and duck away because his sisters were right there, and they immediately cooed, "Oooooh!" Spencer's parents hugged both boys and ruffled their hair, while Crystal and Jackie muttered under their breath about Jon being too hot for their brother. They were happy to hug Brendon, though.
Brendon didn't pause at all before throwing himself at Ryan. Then he hugged Mikey and Brian and Gerard, wildly enthusiastically and a little more physically reckless than usual. Brian suspected that Brendon was going to fall asleep in the car on the way home and nap through most of the party; he looked totally wrecked and there were terrible dark circles under his eyes.
"Congratulations," Brian said.
"I'm just," said Brendon. "I wouldn't have ever. You know? And I did, and I can't thank you enough, but I just... God, Brian." He hugged Brian again. His breath smelled a little bit like day-old beer.
Brian nodded. "Sure," he said. "No problem."
Brendon grinned. "Crazy, right?" he said, and then Spencer's mother pulled him away for more hugging and pictures.
"I don't want people at my graduation," Gerard said. "No people, and no pictures."
"Good luck with that," Brian replied. "It's not actually about you. It's about the people who are there to celebrate you. I plan to take millions of pictures."
Gerard huffed. Spencer's parents ordered all four of the older boys to stand together for pictures. Spencer was arguing under his breath with Brendon again, while Ryan shook his head and stared at his shoes. Jon was the only one who smiled politely for the camera. It was going to make for a strange photograph.
"Okay," said Mrs. Smith. "Now Brian and Gerard and Mikey and Brendon."
That was an even weirder picture; Mikey was trying to text with one hand and not get caught, while Gerard alternated every few seconds between acting too cool to participate and wanting to be the center of attention. Brendon leaned tiredly on Brian. They couldn't manage to all look in the same direction at the same time long enough for the photographs.
After a few rounds of shuffling to get all possible picture permutations, Spencer put his foot down. He looked tired and grumpy and increasingly impatient. "I'm riding back with my folks," he announced. "Brendon needs to talk to Brian. Can we go already?"
"No, I don't," said Brendon, sounding a lot like this was the seventh time through a fight.
"Yes, you do," Spencer snapped.
"No, I—Ryan, back me up."
Ryan looked uncomfortable and shrugged. "You know what I think," he said quietly.
Jon said, "This bus is leaving. I can take Mikey and Gerard, too, Brendon, if you want to talk to Brian on your own."
"I don't."
"Cool!" said Gerard immediately.
Brian looked at Mikey. If anyone knew what the hell was going on it would be Mikey. Mikey looked at his phone for a second, and then up at Brian and nodded. "We'll go with Jon," he said.
So something was definitely up. "Right," said Brian. "Meet you back there."
"You all suck," Brendon complained loudly. Jon snagged Ryan and pulled him away toward the parking lot, with Mikey and Gerard tagging along after. Spencer hustled his family off, too, after one final stern look in Brendon's direction.
Brendon fidgeted for a minute. "This is stupid," he complained. "I really don't want to do this."
Brian was dying of curiosity, but he just nodded and fished his keys out of his pocket. Brendon was much easier to break down than Gerard or Mikey, so Brian was sure he'd know what was up by the time they got back to his house.
In fact, by the time they got to the parking lot, which was a gridlock of epic proportions, Brendon was fidgeting and pulling sparkles off his robe. "Um," he said, as Brian unlocked the door. "So I. Spencer and I need a favor."
The inside of the car felt like an oven. Brian turned on the AC and didn't get in, since they weren't going to be able to get out of the lot any time soon anyway. Brian leaned on the top of the car and tried not to burn his arms. "A favor, huh?" he said. "Hit me."
Brendon fidgeted some more. "It's about Ryan," he said.
Brian knew if he waited long enough Brendon would start making sense, so he unstuck his t-shirt from his sweaty back and looked over Brendon's head at the traffic, calculating how long they would have to wait to get through the fucking 'no left turn' intersection.
"I kind of... I need to borrow him for a little while."
Brian frowned, but Brendon was busy shrugging out of his robe and not looking up. "Borrow him from who?" Brian asked. "From me?"
"Yeah," said Brendon. He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, which meant Spencer had picked out his clothes. "Just for a couple of weeks."
"I'm not totally following you here," said Brian.
Brendon squinted up at the sky for a second and then looked back at his sneakers. "So. Um. We wrote some songs," he said.
That much Brian knew from talking to Ryan and Mikey. He nodded.
"We had a guitar player but he sucked, and I can't play guitar and piano and sing all at once in every song, so Ryan's been doing it. He's really good. He wrote most of our lyrics, too." Brendon looked up, like Brian might challenge Ryan's talent.
"Sure," said Brian.
"The thing is..." Brendon bit his lip and ducked his head, and took a deep breath. "The thing is, we booked some shows. Spencer booked them, I mean. And they're in New York and Boston over the summer, so we need Ryan to come with us, so I need to borrow him for a couple of weeks, and I know you're busy, but come on, he doesn't say it much, but he totally wants this as much as we do, only he doesn't want to disappoint you and—"
Brian cut him off before Brendon could pass out from lack of oxygen. "How many shows?" he asked.
"Five. See, Jon knows the guys in this band called Tartarus, and they asked if we'd open, and we were like, totally, and—"
Brian interrupted, "I get the idea." If any of them were going to keep track of dates and money and be generally business-like, obviously it would be Spencer. Brian couldn't quite stop himself from adding, "Why didn't you ask me?" He sounded the tiniest bit hurt, because he was; this was what he fucking did for a living, and Brendon could have come to him any time. Brendon was supposed to know that. Fuck, so was Ryan. Brian tried really hard not to let the sting show on his face.
Brendon bounced on his toes. "I'm trying to be grown up. We didn't want... I didn't... Not just because it was me."
"Say it again, in English this time, please?" Brian said impatiently.
"You work with all these amazing bands and I knew if I asked you'd book us, too, but... I wanted it to be something we earned, not just something we got because you felt sorry for me. Not that you do. You did, though. Maybe you still do? I wanted... Brian. Come on. You know what I mean, right?"
Brian counted to ten in his head, and then ten again just in case. "Yeah," he said, trying not to snap. "I know what you mean."
"So that's why. Spencer thinks I'm an idiot, but I really... You're mad. Brian! Come on. It totally makes sense." Brendon pouted.
Brian got in the car, which was finally cool, and after a second so did Brendon. Brian crossed his arms and stared at the dashboard for a minute or two. "I'm not mad," he said finally. "I'm... It's complicated. I get what you're saying, I just disagree with it a lot. And for the record, I have never felt sorry for you. You don't feel sorry for Gerard and Mikey, right? Knock that shit off, please."
"Sorry," Brendon mumbled. He was only down for a second, though, before he looked up hopefully. "But you'll let us borrow Ryan?"
"There's a condition."
"Oh. Uh. Sure!"
Brian crept forward in to traffic. "You can have Ryan for as long as you need, that's totally fine. But from now on I get to handle all the bookings and tour management for you guys."
"Brian!" Brendon spluttered. "Did you just miss the part where I explained why we don't want that?"
"You don't want that," Brian corrected. "It's not the same thing."
"Right, but—"
"So now is my turn to explain. Shut up." He waited until Brendon had stopped flailing and settled down in to his seat, looking mildly grumpy. "Spencer's smart and responsible and will do his best, I'm sure. But he's just a kid. And you don't know ... There are a lot of shitty promoters and people who want to fuck you over or take advantage of you. That's not even getting in to the people who—" He couldn't quite bring himself to talk about what would happen to nice, smart, pretty kids like Brendon and Ryan in some of the clubs Brian had visited. Spencer wouldn't be able to stop that from happening. Fuck, for all Spencer was the tallest, he wasn't scary enough, either. They all needed babysitters. Brian had some people in mind.
"Right," said Brendon. "But—"
Brian honked at a guy who tried to cut them off. They were never going to get out of the stupid parking lot. "That's the deal," he said. "If you want Ryan, I get to represent you."
"Brian! That's not—" Brendon visibly stopped himself from yelling 'that's not fair.' "I can't agree to that," he said after a minute. "It's not just my band."
Brian nodded. He suspected Spencer and Jon would jump for joy, and Ryan would at least be reasonable. "So ask when we get to the party," he said. "Take a vote."
"You're trying to blackmail me," Brendon complained.
I am trying to protect you, Brian thought, and felt the familiar flash of anger that Brendon's actual parents weren't around to do it. "Yup," said Brian. "Whatever works."
Brendon lapsed in to grumpy silence. He stared out the window for a few minutes while they waited for the traffic jam to clear up. Brian counted to a hundred a few more times until he felt like he could talk about the whole thing without getting worked up again.
"I'll ask them," said Brendon finally, as if that was a huge concession. "What if they don't want to?"
Since Brian was completely sure that wasn't going to be a problem, he shrugged. "Then we'll renegotiate," he said.
Brendon made an unhappy noise, and then suddenly perked up again. "Gabe says you're going out with someone."
Brian was a grown up, he was absolutely not blushing or embarrassed about this. At all. Really. "Yeah," he said, not looking at Brendon. "A friend of Bill's. But we're not... I think I'm too old to 'go out with' anyone."
"Awwwww," Brendon said, delighted. "That's so cute! Is she nice? Is she pretty? What does she do? Has she met Gerard and Mikey? How does Bill know her? What's—"
"Brendon," said Brian. "Chill."
Brendon just looked expectantly at him.
Brian sighed. "She's pretty, yes. She's nice. She loves kids, can't wait to meet them. She works with Bill at the hospital. But it's only been a couple of dates and... I haven't been on a real date in like, years, so I don't really know how this goes."
"What about what's-her-name, Nancy?" asked Brendon. "You were hooking up with her for a while."
Brian almost hit the car ahead of them. "I never told you about that," he said.
Brendon rolled his eyes. "Duh. You didn't tell any of us about that. But you met her at Bill's wedding, and then you two spent that weekend away. She was hot."
"I'm not... Jesus, Brendon." Brian was blushing, but it wasn't his fault; the entire point of a secret fling was that it was a secret. Brian wasn't ashamed of it, exactly, but he wasn't crowing about it, either. "We're not talking about this anymore," said Brian firmly.
"When do we get to meet this one?" Brendon asked, bouncing a little.
When hell freezes over, Brian thought. Brendon, luckily, was the most distractible person Brian knew. "If you're taking Ryan for the band, I need to hire someone else," Brian said.
"You need to hire someone anyway," Brendon agreed. "You're fucking swamped. Mikey and Gerard have been making jokes about not remembering what you look like."
Brian winced. "Great," he said. "Fuck. Okay, we'll start looking through resumes tomorrow." He paused. "Or we could hire you full-time—"
"No," said Brendon immediately. "I'm not... I mean, thanks. But no. I can't." He stared at his hands in his lap.
Brian considered how weird Brendon got every time Brian brought it up. "I thought you'd jump at the chance to work with Ryan," he said slowly. "But that's not it, right? It's the band thing."
Brendon fidgeted and put his window down, then up again, then down again. The AC was still on, so Brian smacked his hand away from the control and put it up.
"I... I went to college, I did the responsible thing," said Brendon. "I can't... I don't want to be responsible about this. I want to play music. If I have a job I might never be able to."
Brian nodded. "Okay," he said. "Fair enough."
Brendon looked at him sideways. "That's it?" he asked quietly. "No lecture?"
"It's not like you're flying to LA and auditioning for American Idol, or dropping out of high school. You've got shows booked. You're a grown up, you get to decide what you want to do. And if it doesn't work out, you can always be my errand boy some more." Brian paused. "I think it will, though. You're really fucking talented, and you have the drive. I think it's the right decision."
Brendon stared at him for a few seconds, and then he threw himself at Brian, which was awkward while Brian was steering. Brendon put his arms around Brian's neck and clung. Brian chalked it up to high emotions about graduation. After a minute Brendon sat back in his seat and adjusted his seatbelt and his shirt until he was breathing normally again, while Brian concentrated on driving and pretended not to notice.
Brian spent the rest of the drive figuring out which tours and which tour managers he'd trust with Brendon and Ryan. He was pretty sure they'd charm any band they traveled with, but different bands had different reputations, and he wasn't going to drop them on anyone who thought tours were just an excuse to be drunk in every state. Plus, he needed to know what they sounded like so he could find a good compliment. He wasn't going to fuck around with this, because he was sure they'd be successful given half a chance.
Brendon was half-asleep against the window, but he yawned himself awake when they pulled up in front of the house. "I'll ask," he said, rubbing his eyes. "But it's totally blackmail. I just want that clear."
Brian nodded and turned the car off. "Right," he said. "Noted. I think they started the party without you." The front door was open and Brian could see streamers and people in party hats.
"That's ridiculous," Brendon scoffed. "The party can't start without me. I am the party."
That was true most days, but not so much today. Brian gave him an hour, tops, before he was conked out upstairs on one of the kid's beds.
"Ask them," Brian ordered, as firmly as he could manage with Brendon, and followed him in to the house.
Gerard had gone a little crazy with decorations in the living room, so there were streamers and tinsel and balloons everywhere. Most of them were black, and he'd horded them since Thanksgiving. There were bowls of food everywhere, and the radio was blasting Bon Jovi, which probably meant Gerard had picked it out.
Ryan and Jon and Spencer were sitting on the couch, fighting over a brownie. There was an entire plateful of brownies in front of them, but that didn't stop them from elbowing each other trying to get the one Spencer was successfully holding over his head out of their reach. Gerard was slumped in a chair, drawing. Mikey was in the kitchen, supervising the cooking, with Jeanne and Spencer's parents. Spencer's sisters were sitting on the stairs, watching Jon and Spencer and Ryan and whispering and nudging each other. Everyone was wearing party hats, which Brian thought was pretty cute.
"Spencer Smith, you have to share," said Brendon sternly, and climbed in to the pile of boys without apparent regard for his own safety. Spencer and Ryan scooted to one side and Brendon ended up sitting half on Spencer and half on Jon, which gave Jon the reach to get Spencer's brownie. "Hungry," said Brendon, reaching for a handful of crackers and almost elbowing Jon in the stomach.
"Ahem," said Brian, in what he hoped was a remind tone, not a nagging tone. It was hard to tell, and he was sure he got it wrong about half the time.
Brendon sighed and slumped against the couch, and also Spencer. "I need to ask you all something," he said reluctantly, and Brian took that as his cue to go in to the kitchen and give him some space.
The kitchen was full; Jeanne had somehow pried the Sidekick out of Mikey's hands and gotten him to make punch, mixing ginger ale and juice. "—absolutely unbelievable," Jeanne was saying. "First I was never going to have grandchildren, and now I have a houseful. Brian, don't just stand there, make yourself useful." She handed him the cake and a knife and pointed at the cutting board. "And every one's cuter than the next, although I'm partial to some." She didn't look over, but Mikey smiled to himself.
"We were so grateful to have someone looking after Spencer on this coast," said Mrs. Smith. "I still don't know what possessed him to go to the other side of the country. Honestly, he could have gone to school and lived with us, it would have been so much cheaper."
"He was never going to do that," said Mr. Smith mildly. "And now he's not coming home, because the boys are starting a band."
"Ha!" said Jeanne, slicing up vegetables. No one was going to eat those, Brian thought, except the adults. Recent college graduates had no interest in vitamins or nutrients. "I'd say that's Brian, being a bad influence again, but they've been talking about this for years." She waggled her knife at Brian.
Brian said, "They've booked some shows. Brendon told me in the car on the way home."
"And you're going to look after them," Jeanne ordered. "Imagine those babies out on their own."
"Do you think it's a good idea?" Mr. Smith asked, helping himself to some snacks.
"They'll be fine," his wife said firmly. "They're good boys. I'm sure they're wonderful musicians. And they'll have Brian. Won't they?"
Brian recognized the threat after years with his mother. "I just got done telling Brendon that," he said. "Everything's under control."
"I've been meaning to hug you all day," said Mrs. Smith suddenly. "Imagine Brendon out here with no family. I could just hit someone." Her expression made it pretty clear who she'd like to hit, and also that Spencer was definitely her son. "You're wonderful, Brian, taking in all these kids."
"I didn't take them in," said Brian awkwardly. "I just... They showed up and I didn't kick anyone out." It was always so fucking hard to explain this to people, that 'adopted kids' didn't mean he was some kind of saint. He still lived in mild terror of someone overhearing him hollering at Gerard for his shitty attitude or trying to get Mikey to do his homework. If he'd been the martyr everyone kept mistaking him for, he wouldn't have lost his temper with the boys nearly as much. He certainly would have found a better way to balance work and home life.
Mr. Smith said, "The little ones, sure, but college students? They're so annoying."
"They babysit for practically free," said Brian. "That's all I care about."
"Living room!" Jeanne ordered, picking up her tray of vegetables and nudging Mikey toward the door. They all paraded back out, and Mrs. Smith stopped to give Brian an affectionate smile. He didn't feel entirely like he'd earned it, but he appreciated it.
The pile on the couch had gotten pile-ier somehow, with Brendon sitting totally on Spencer and Spencer sitting mostly on Jon, and Ryan leaning on Spencer enough that Spencer couldn't actually move his arm. "Brian!" said Jon happily when he walked in. "Are you seriously serious? Fucking awesome."
Brendon might have looked mildly resentful for half a second, but then he looked at Ryan, who was as close to beaming as Ryan ever got, and he settled in to somewhere between resigned and delighted. It was weird how Brendon could hit a midway point there.
"In other words," Spencer clarified from somewhere underneath Brendon, "We will one hundred percent take you up on your more-than-generous offer."
"I kind of figured," Brian agreed.
"You don't have to," said Ryan.
Spencer elbowed him in the stomach. "Yes he fucking does, and no take backs," said Spencer firmly. "Jesus, Ryan."
"I just—"
"We would have needed help with contracts and shit anyway," said Spencer. "I could have faked it, maybe, but I don't really know what to look out for." He was dangerously close to sounding both serious and unhappy, which was apparently Jon's cue to hook his chin over Spencer's shoulder and nudge Spencer's cheek with his nose. Spencer tried to ignore it for a minute, and then gave up and started laughing. "Plus," he said, "It's kind of hard to do business stuff with these idiots around. Jon, stop that. Stop."
"We are not idiots," said Brendon. "Anyway, we voted."
"Cool," said Brian. He planned to gloat a lot later.
. "So maybe tomorrow or this weekend, when you guys are done celebrating graduation, we can all sit down and start working some shit out?"
"Sure," said Brendon. "If you're not too busy dating your hot nurse."
There should have been a record-scratching sound effect. Gerard threw his marker down and Mikey dropped a bowl of chips. "Again?" said Gerard. "Seriously? Brian?"
Fuck, fuck, fuck. "You knew about her," Brian said weakly.
"Yeah, but usually you just date them and dump them, like whatshername, who worked at the club."
Brian had been completely sure none of them knew about that particular fling. "This isn't like that," he spluttered. "This is... Susan's nice."
Gerard looked at Mikey, and then they both looked at Brendon, and then all three of them shook their heads a little bit. "Sure," said Brendon, in his too-perky voice. "So we get to meet her and stuff, right? Vet her for you? Make sure she's not weird or creepy or whatever?" He stopped, mostly because Jon was squeezing his arm.
"No," said Brian, and then, "Maybe. Hey, we're all here to celebrate your graduation. Who wants cake?"
Brendon cheered, and then yawned and tried unsuccessfully to hide it. Brian downgraded him to asleep in twenty minutes. Jeanne went back in and came out with the mildly terrifying cake that had a photograph of Brendon and Spencer in frosting on top. It would have been more appetizing if cake-Spencer hadn't looked so annoyed.
Later, after Jon had taken hundreds of pictures with two different cameras, and Spencer had smushed cake all over his sisters, and Ryan had dragged Brendon upstairs because he'd dozed off on the couch, Spencer's family dragged him and Jon off to the airport, and the house emptied out. Brian found himself sitting on the front steps with Gerard, who was sketching vampires in what was supposed to be his math notebook.
"Good party," said Brian, and yawned. Clean up was going to take hours, and Jeanne had flatly announced she wasn't doing it, and left. Mikey was upstairs texting again. Brian thought grumpily that Brendon was probably too old now to be bribed in to cleaning his house for him.
Gerard just shrugged.
"Wasn't it?" Brian added after a minute. "Yo, Gerard. Hello? Party?"
Gerard put his notebook down and looked up at him. "It was fine," he said flatly. "I guess."
Brian shook his head. Spencer's parents probably never had problems like these. "At least you're not on the roof," he sighed. He never got tired of bringing that up, although it made Gerard grumpy.
"I just," said Gerard, looking a little upset. "Brendon's all graduated. I'm graduating this year. I don't like it. I don't like parties that remind me of it." He pulled his hood up and tightened the pull-strings.
"Senior year can be kind of scary," Brian agreed cautiously. "But you have the advantage of having watched Brendon flip out for the past few months. You know what to expect. Plus, it's also pretty awesome. You're growing up and stuff."
Gerard glowered and kicked his sneakers against the steps. "I don't want things to be different," he said. "Things are fine."
"Maybe things will get better."
"Maybe things will get worse."
They stared at each other for a minute. Brian was pretty sure he couldn't win this particular argument. "Things are going to change no matter what we do," said Brian finally. "That's just... That's the way the world is."
"Well, the world is stupid, then," said Gerard, and stormed inside.
Brian sighed and nodded and wondered how the next year was going to go.