CASUAL AFFAIR; brendon urie

Chapter Twenty-One

He was humming, something tuneless, still managing to sound ten times more melodic than anything I could ever do, as he closed his eyes and leant his head backward. He pushed a hand through his hair, - soft, dark brown hair that I felt bad for pulling, and also really wanted to ask how he got it so soft - making it stick up in a mad sort of way, before letting his hand drop back to his side.

It was funny how comfortable he seemed there, naked, on my couch. How at ease.

My toes were wedged a little under one of Brendon's legs, but that was hardly avoidable, considering the awkward position I'd drawn my legs up to. It was a rather small couch, come to think of it. But still, legs aside, I was completely ... well, not relaxed, per se, but something quite close to that. Contented, maybe. Five minutes was a fair amount of time to get lost in, and there I was, away in a world of my own, staring up at the ceiling, as I laid both hands flat atop my stomach, feeling every rise and fall with each breath I took, until it reached a steady rhythm. Jesus, I couldn't even feel my heartbeat anymore.

Did I even ever have one on the first place?

Just as I was about to move one hand and put it on my chest to check, I felt a light tapping on my knees.

I hadn't even realised Brendon had stopped humming, as I opened my eyes and pushed up on my elbows to look at him. And those brown eyes were wide, round, the edges of his lips pulled upward. I really, really wanted to see his teeth then. That sudden urge to make him laugh, or smile wide enough should have - and would have - scared me a little any other time. But I was getting used to feeling weird things when I was with Brendon now. Which again, would have been cause for concern.

He tapped again. "I used to know a little Morse code."

I pushed myself up a little further - as far as my elbows would allow me to, actually. "Used to?"

His smile was a little sheepish. Embarrassed. And adorable. "Boy scout." he explained.

I bit my lip to keep back the 'Aw!' and the mental image of a young Brendon in the little uniform, clutching a loop of rope and s'mor stick. "I never took you for a knot tier."

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. But he smiled back, though he did duck his head a little.

Soon enough, after a moment, he pressed his finger to my knee, and then began to tap again - and this time I noticed it, long, drawn out one mixed in with short, fast ones.

"What are you writing?" I dug my elbows in harder to the couch.

He stopped his task, and there. I saw his teeth in that grin. "Figure it out."

I pushed myself up completely - not without a little effort and a grunt - so that I was now sitting upright, although due to the angle, the curve of my spine and back was a lot more pronounced, and rested his arms on my knees. Just as Brendon had done the night we'd met, outside the boathouse when we talked. "I can't. I don't know Morse code."

Brendon arched an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me that a girl like you was never a Girl Scout?"

I laughed - both at the accusation that I obviously appeared like the Girl Scout type in Brendon's eyes, and also at the memory at my brief - very brief - affiliation with them.

I held up three fingers. "For all of three days." I said proudly, before shrugging. "... Until my friend got us kicked out."

Brendon's eyebrow shot further up. How could he manipulate those things so well? Damn, his eyebrows were impressive. "She got you kicked out? Out of Girl Scouts?"

Even as I remembered now, I could feel my cheeks being yanked up, and the laughter shaking my shoulders. "Oh yeah. She kinda ... Accidentally set fire to the Scoutmaster's tent."